Hey everybody! This is my second Twilight fanfic. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Tanya's POV
Listening to Irina and Kate whisper, I discovered they were talking about me. It didn't matter. Whatever it was, I didn't really want to know.
I was drowning in melancholy.
As someone below the surface does, I couldn't truly feel, see, or hear. Nor could I taste. Everything was bland and unappealing. I'd become an empty shell.
He'd taken a wrecking ball to my world, and left me destroyed, letting me pick the pieces of my heart by myself.
My icy skin had become colder, my fair hair gone limp, and my senses – all of them – dulled. Just because of one man.
Edward.
Musing, I realized that I had and had not expected his rejection. I'd expected him to be calm, no matter the verdict. I had not, however, been entertaining the idea that he would ever say 'no.' I didn't like to think about how he'd done it, either.
Edward had been swift, firm, and final, but every time he reappears on our land, I'm sure my eyes beg him to change his mind. No wonder he stays away from me, cold and distant.
He'd coolly and gently told me that he wasn't interested. I wasn't his type, he'd said. I'd been depressed for days afterward. My mind had gone for weeks, my ability to function diminished significantly. I'd left for a month or more.
Kate and Irina had been worried; of course, it was their nature to be concerned for me, their sister. Carmen and Eleazar had just let me be – they knew I needed time to think. I'd vanished to the snow-covered Aleutian Islands, to relax and breathe the real air – air untainted by pollution.
Dwelling again on the day my dead heart shattered, I barely noticed when Kate got up from where she sat on the pine-colored couch.
"Tanya," she said, her sweet voice filled with anguish. Irina's face had gone hard, her glassy eyes glaring daggers at the portrait of the immortal child that hung crookedly on the wall.
"Yes?" I croaked out, staring blankly at the tabletop.
"This came for you today." Kate pushed a parchment envelope in front of me.
"There's no return address," I noted, not at all interested in the simple envelope marked with nothing but two words in graceful handwriting. Denali Coven. It was the handwriting of Edward Cullen. I would forever remember the elegant i's, the beautiful curves of the n's. I was mesmerized just by the insight that I had memorized every letter of his handwriting.
Edward taught me how to write. No one except us knew that.
"Yes…" Kate murmurs, barely audible. "Alice Cullen delivered it while you were out this morning."
She knew that would sting; the reason for her whispers. But it stung more than she knew. It felt like someone had ripped my limbs away – namely, that little pixie of a vampire. She hadn't even stopped to tell me how her family was doing. Rage exploded inside my head.
But it hurt. I wanted to cry, too. For a long time, sitting there shaking over the tiny envelope, I couldn't bring myself to open it.
I need to do it, I told myself. I need to get over him. Gingerly, I picked up the envelope; broke the seal. Pulling the letter out, I unfolded the clean, white paper.
I flinched as I read the words daughter, wife, Irina, and Volturi. My sister had set the Volturi on them. And she'd visited the day the letter arrived? Not even that dark-haired psychic deserved such a fate.
"Irina…" I groaned, rereading a sentence, frozen in my seat.
"They killed Laurent!" she roared, melodic voice hoarse with unshed-able tears. "Somebody had to pay!"
"And now the whole family will be slaughtered," I hissed back at her.
The last paragraphs of the letter, however, forgave Irina even as she rushed out the door.
Please, do not punish your sister; she made a mistake. But we do need you here. You know where to find us – Forks, the Olympic Peninsula. I'm begging you, Tanya.
Come.
-Edward
One word. One word that assured me that he still existed; had not yet been dealt with. I knew. I felt it. A sixth sense told me he was still on this earth.
"Kate," I said, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah, Tanya?"
"Tell Carmen and Eleazar to pack. We're taking a trip to Washington. And Irina won't be coming.
Kate's eyes were fixed on the door, astonished, but she went to her room.
My desolate mood evaporated. He needed me. It was all I ever wanted; to be needed. My hope returned. I, in that moment, moved on.
Pieces of heart clicked together and welded into place in my chest.
I was whole again.
Some of the facts in this are a little off, but I had to mess with it a little. Sorry!
Oh, and please review! I appreciate every one!
~AL