I own nothing. Songs belong to their respective owners (noted) and Twilight belongs to S. Meyer.
Someone asked me what I though Bella's frame of mind was when she ripped the stereo out of her truck. I replied that it was like the song "Bubba shot the Jukebox," by Mark Chestnut. For those unfamiliar with it the song goes:
Bubba shot the jukebox last night
He said it played a sad song that made him cry
Went to his truck and got a 45
Bubba shot the jukebox last night.
But I then decided it was probably a bit different.
It was two weeks after he...Bella couldn't let herself think his name, left. She had started going back to school on Monday, and made it through the whole week. She drove home in a haze, until she heard Lonestar on the radio.
Got a picture of you I carry in my heart
Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark
Got a memory of you I carry in my soul
I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold...
Bella's tears began to fall like rain.
Not a day goes by that I don't think of you
After all this time You're still with me it's true
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside
Baby oh Baby not a day goes by...
I still wait for the phone in the middle of the night
Thinking you might call me if your dreams don't turn out right
And it still amazes me that I lie here in the dark
Wishing you were next to me with your head against my heart
Bella kept singing the song through her tears. It ended as she pulled into the driveway. Reaching over to shut the radio off, she wrapped her arms around her chest. Trying in vain to hold herself together.
Knowing she could stand it no longer, she began to try to pull the stereo out of the console. It was irrational, but she wouldn't be able to make it if she kept being reminded of him with every note of every song. It gave a little at her vicious pulling. Taking heart at the response of the machinery at her attempts, she pulled even harder. When at last it was hanging on by only cables, she tore even harder, ignoring the bleeding nails and knuckles her struggle had engendered.
When it finally came completely loose, she opened the truck door and heaved it onto the ground. She almost walked away, but she knew it would only cause more questions from Charlie. She picked it up gingerly, and carried it like a child to her room. Putting it in a plastic bag, she pushed it to the farthest corner of her closet. That was the last time she listened to the radio of her own accord.
The name of this fic came from a Julie Robert's song "Break Down Here." I have included part of it for reference.
150,000 miles to go
Before the bad blood and busted radio
You said I was all you'd ever need
But love is blind and little did I know
That you were just another dead end road
Paved with pretty lies and broken dreams
Baby leaving you was easier than being gone
Don't know what I'll do if one more thing goes wrong
I'd sure hate to break down here.