AN: Of course when I finally write again, it's a Songfic. I'm so bad, geez, I'm having the worst writers block ever. It's like having a big brick in the middle of my brain, squishing it. Ugh. But Songfics write themselves (Yay) so only minimum creativeness is required on my part. But the song is Cellar Door by Escape the Fate, so bon appetite, readers!
Cellar Door
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Edward knew something was wrong.
We walked through the doorway, heard you calling from the hall
The radio in his room emitted a static-filtered version of a song he barely recognized, the empty refrigerator buzzed from the kitchen, Emmett's Jeep honked as he locked it, the last one out, and at the other end of the house a clock struck eight. It wasn't hearing any of these things, however, that fazed him. It was what he couldn't hear.
To find you in the bedroom not breathing at all
Edward was kneeling by his couch in seconds. He used one long, ivory, shaking finger to brush a lock of hair away from her sweaty face. The remainder of the Cullens crept into the room and, one by one, transformed into picturesque statues – cold and completely still. Normally, the fact that nobody in the room was breathing would be perfectly ordinary, despite the gentle figure slumped across Edward's golden couch. Her sickly pale skin almost sparkled in the contrasting glow radiating from everywhere in the room. The carpet, the walls, the couch, the setting sky – it was too much light, too much life, for Edward to handle.
I drag your body to the cellar where we lay, the wax it melts away,
He took Bella in his unusually weak arms and ran away from the light, and away from the life; into the dark basement. The walls, filled with blood-filled glass bottles, glittered faintly in the few remaining seconds of light, before the cellar door slammed shut and left the entire scene in absolute night.
Edward lit a single candle, so that maybe he could catch a glimpse of her face before all traces of the beauty once there disappeared forever. The candle melted away slowly, and Edward's angry expression softened. Even in death, Bella's features were more lovely than any ancient craftsman could have created.
I kiss your face...
He sighed. Now wishing he could cry more than ever, Edward leaned over Bella and kissed her on the forehead. Rather than calming him, the gesture gave him a burning feeling, starting in his very core and spreading through every vein, until he was inexplicably on his feet cursing the very teeth that had done this to her. Wanting to poison himself, though knowing in his heart it was pointless, Edward gnawed at the skin on his wrist. The blood pooled out, but he still felt nothing but anger. His arm barely even hurt. Edward fell, again, to his knees. His eyes flickered from his wrist to Bella's face and back. The droplets of blood that rolled down his arm reminded him of tears, and what little satisfaction that gave him was enough.
Now we are starting to love you more
Your body's on the canvas I painted on the floor
Esme and Alice lead the rest of the family down the small staircase, and in the blinding light of the sunset, Edward watched Rosalie bury her face in her hands. Nobody screamed, though that seemed the only appropriate gesture. They just stared.
Edward's blood pooled around Bella's body; drenched her hair, her clothes, her bare feet.
Now you wait, like the drug, like the change in the pain it goes on for so long
And oh, how it hurts in the worst way, now that you're gone, it's so wrong, it's so wrong...
"Leave," Edward whispered. Esme was the only one to move – she reached out a hand, but it dropped back to her side before the movement even counted as genuine motion.
"Leave!" He yelled, jumping to his feet. Then he whipped around, as not to look at them, and stared at the flickering flame until he was sure everyone had left.
If I could take you somewhere, I'd take you to the darkest place,
Alone again, Edward moved Bella's limp figure onto a wooden casket in the corner of the room. His eyes traced her body greedily, knowing the candle wouldn't give him much more time.
scatter you in art forms,
admire the whore beauty in different ways,
your hands on picture frames
The preciousness of her fingers reminded Edward of Bella, just days ago, clinging to a framed picture of the father she'd never gotten a chance to say goodbye to.
your eyes in the glass wear your face as a mass
Her brown eyes had had such depth, something they'd lost in… he gulped, death. He imagined them on the glittering wine bottles, reflecting endlessly upon each other. Her eyes had been like never ending mirrors placed to face eachother.
So beautiful…. Edward squeezed his eyes shut, and let the world spin around him.
Now they are starting to love you more
a gallery of your beauty, no charge at the door
It seemed that when his eyes opened again, Edward was standing in the middle of a terraced meadow. Their meadow.
Bella was laid across a beautiful, white- marble coffin. Matching bouquets were scattered around the meadow, and delicate white chairs were spread around the coffin, perched in the middle of the scene. The meadow looked small, not as he remembered it at all.
As you wait, like the drug, like the change in the pain it goes on for so long
And oh, how it hurts in the worst way, now that you're gone, it's so wrong, it's so wrong...
The funeral appeared to be over, and a draft blew solitary petals above his head. The white contrasted with the endless, blue sky.
Bella's expression was patient as she waited to be buried. It was so unlike her, thought Edward mockingly. The last he'd seen her alive Bella was in an impatient agony, though she tried to hide it. Her feet tapped against the arm of his couch, and her fingers snapped weakly. She smiled up at Edward through clenched teeth.
And down below your veins run dry your vacant eyes
His dead heart sank into his kneecaps, his body felt unbearably cold.
She wasn't smiling at him anymore. She looked so peaceful.
Too peaceful.
I lost control your face is pale, your body's cold
And down below your veins run dry your vacant eyes
I lost control your face is pale, your body's cold
Maybe if I hadn't drunk so much, maybe if the venom hadn't attracted her so strongly, hell, maybe if I hadn't enjoyed it so damn much…
Edward placed his hand on Bella's shoulder, and let himself shake.
Wait, like the drug, like the change in the pain it goes on for so long
And oh, how it hurts in the worst way, now that you're gone, it's so wrong, it's so wrong...
Edward watched as the service picked up the casket and carried Bella away. He watched as the chairs and veranda disappeared around him, until the meadow was plain and beautiful again. It was exactly how he wanted to remember it, and how he had. Except for one, crucial, part. \
It's so wrong...
The sun set and darkness closed in on the once beautiful, now abandoned meadow.
He missed her. Oh God, he just missed her.