Authors Note: Love received some inspiration for this story come from the song Rhythm of the Blues by Mary Chapin Carpenter.
Disclaimer: All the recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of our beloved Stephenie Meyer. Although we would have loved to have the imagination to come up with this awesome series we did not! No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
The song Rhythm of the Blues doesn't belong to us either! Although Love was inspired by a couple lines in the song and similar lines can be found in this story. Again no copyright infringement is intended.
NUMB
By VampirexLove
The days were melting together. I couldn't tell where one ended and another began. I moved from class to class throughout the day without realizing when I stood up or sat down. I didn't remember the bell ringing, didn't remember talking to anyone, answering questions in class, eating lunch or any of the other things that made my school life routine, although I was sure that they had all happened.
After school I sluggishly walked to my truck. Dark sinister clouds hung overhead and I knew a storm was imminent. The other students were rushing to their cars hoping to make it before the rain began to fall. I heard someone call out my name but by the time the thought to turn around registered in my head I knew they would have been long gone, so I continued walking. I could hear the rocks under my heavy feet, as I dragged them along the gravel, when I felt the rain begin to fall. It was coming down quickly and felt like tiny drops of ice water, but that wasn't enough motivation for me to pick up the pace. The chill of the freezing water had no effect on me, I'd become desensitized to everything. When I got to my truck my hair was soaked, so were my books for that matter, but I didn't care. I opened the door and tossed them on to the passenger seat next to me, then proceeded to climb in. I let the engine roar to life and made my way out of the parking lot.
The ride home was just as monotonous as my day had been. I slowly pulled to a stop in front of my house, turned the key to the off position and just sat in my truck watching the rain beat, now heavily, against the windshield. The melody was mesmerizing and I found myself unable to move, numbed by the rhythm of the rain.
An unexpected gust of wind drew my attention to the forest behind my house. The trees were swaying and bowing in perfect harmony with the wind and rain, as if part of some well choreographed dance. I gazed into the forest and my focus slowly became blurred. My mind was empty and I was enjoying a brief moment of serenity. A sudden betrayal of my own thoughts reminded of the last time I had entered that forest, the last time I heard his voice, the last words he spoke. "It will be as if I'd never existed." Anger began to creep into the back of my mind. The swaying harmony of the trees was immediately replaced with sweeping insensitivity. How could these trees appear so peaceful, so obliging, so understanding when it was blatant hypocrisy to the way they treated me just a few weeks past. The way they deceived me and hid the one I was searching for, the one that I longed for, all the while leading me deep into nothingness. It would not soon be forgotten. The displaced anger I felt was gradually changing to resentment and my thoughts were now inspired with fire. The visual of 20 foot high yellow and orange flames behind my house excited me a little. Surely flames could dance through those tree branches as beautifully as the wind.
There was a tiny twitch at the corner of my eye and I knew that there would be no stopping the rage that was about to ensue. I no longer cared about the gapping hole inside me. Whether I would regret it or not it was time to take some sort of action. I felt my face flush red with heat and my breathing began to quicken. I realized I had been gripping the steering wheel exceptionally tight when I felt my nails digging into the palms of my hands and looked down to notice that my knuckles were white. I let go of the steering wheel, my fingers were stiff, and let my arms fall to my side. My right hand brushed swiftly against my keys that were still hanging in the ignition. I looked down and the first thing my eyes caught sight of was a gift he had neglected to take back. In his attempt to remove all evidence of his existence in my life, I realized he'd forgotten a few things.
My ears were scarlet, burning, and I could hear the blood pounding fast behind them. I furrowed my eyebrows and glared at the stereo with disgust. I suddenly hated that it was here in my truck, my one place of refuge. I hated that it played his favorite songs… that it played my favorite songs. I hated that it played music at all. But mostly I hated that it was a daily reminder that I wasn't good enough for him. Before I realized it had happened I pounded my fist into the stereo. It felt remarkably great! I did it again, and again.
The fury began to consume my very soul as every built up emotion deep within exploded like a bomb upon impact. The pain I should have felt as my fist struck the metal was non-existent, just like his presence that I ached for. I drove myself to pound harder into the stereo. I flailed the heel of my shoe into it and I heard the screen crack beneath my force. Blood splattered across the stereo as a sharp metal edge sliced across my knuckles, tearing away at my skin. I become frenzied as I continually struck the stereo, as if I could punch away the pain, do away with the devastation. Finally, I grasped my fingertips around the corners, and as Edward's gorgeous face flooded into my memory, I tore the stereo from the dashboard with a large heave.
My chest rose as I gasped for breath, but it felt as if I was incapable of getting enough air. My body trembled and sweat trickled down my forehead. I held it in my lap as I gazed upon the battered present with a mixture of forlorn love and hatred. Cords spilled from the large gaping hole where Emmett had once installed the stereo. Small cracks crept along the plastic of the dashboard from where the force of my furious attacks also damaged it. There was a multiple array of colored cords that had been parted from the connection of the stereo and they hung over, just inches from my knees. I knew that I had done a considerable amount of damage to the present, possibly beyond repair, the same could be said for my heart. My vision became blurred as tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks colliding with sweat; finally splashing onto the stereo in my lap.
I reached for the handle of the door and flung it open, stumbling from the truck with the stereo grasped tight to my body. The darkness of night consumed the heavens and I had barely noticed how long I had stayed within the confines of my truck. It seemed like moments, but in actuality, it had been a couple of hours. I could barely see through the dimness and tears as I willed myself to enter my house. The toe of my shoe got caught on the top stair of the strong porch and it sent me sprawling. Splinters became lodged into my palms and I first noticed the pain in my arms and the wounds I had gotten from my assault. The stereo fell from my grasp and hit the ground, splitting into two large sections. I plunged towards the pieces protectively, treating them like sacred possessions. It was bittersweet how my love for the stereo was equal to my hate. I pushed myself into a sitting position and as another spasm of sobs raked over my body I thought of my heart also torn into two.
Waves of pain washed over me, both emotional and physical. Through the rain I could tell that darkness was settling in and the hour was growing late. I knew Charlie would be home soon and I couldn't let him see me sitting on the steps like this. I couldn't let him see me like this period! I picked up the first piece of stereo from the porch, my hands trembled, as I reached for the second piece the corner sliced my index finger and I felt the cool night air sting the small open wound. I held my finger up to look at it and slowly a blood droplet appeared. I let the blood drip. Staring at my finger motionless for a moment I remembered the last time I had a cut like this on my finger. I let out a small laugh, more like a scoff, "No hungry vampires here tonight!" I whispered to myself. The realization set in that my life was now, and would forever be completely devoid of anything meaningful… of love.
I picked up the last piece of the stereo, unlocked the door and walked straight to the kitchen. In the light I could see the extensive damage I'd done to the stereo. I gloated to myself for only a second until I noticed the blood that covered the stereo and my hands. I immediately felt a wave of nausea overcome me. The room began to spin and my sense of smell was heightened. I quickly opened the cupboard under the sink and grabbed a black trash bag from the box. Stuffed the stereo in the bag and twisted it closed.
I pushed the bag onto the counter and turn on the faucet, so the water would run as hot as possible. I shoved my hands beneath the streaming liquid, watching steam rise from my cold hands, and ignored the burning sensation that erupted along my skin. I doused my hands in the lemon scent of the liquid soap I used to wash dishes and bit my lips, containing a gasp in pain. I recoiled from the stinging of the soap that seared my cuts, worse than I expected. I quickly washed away all remnants of blood and the soap, drying my hands on a soft towel that lay on the counter besides my bag.
I shut off the valve, and was looking at my hands that were red from irritation, just as the door swung open and Charlie lumbered in. He hung his gun belt on the hook, but not before removing the bullets from the gun chamber and placing them in his pocket. This was a new habit. His way of protecting me from… well, me I guess. It was a completely unnecessary action. As miserable as I had become I can honestly say that was one thing that had never crossed my mind, and never would. He covered his belt with his old coat, and called out for me. "Bella, you home?" His deep voice questioned, as he moved into the kitchen.
"Hi Cha- Dad!" I tried to call out enthusiastically but it sounded false in my own ears.
I stepped in front of the bag on the counter so that it was hidden behind my back and out of Charlie's view. Charlie walked into the kitchen and his expression caught me off guard; he looked surprised to see me there. It hadn't been that long since I last cooked! "How was your day?" I posed, but he could tell by my tone that I was only trying to make small talk.
"Long." He paused, and his eyes glanced down to my hands. I wasn't prepared to answer any questions so I quickly folded my arms. Picking up on my cue he continued, "You'd think living here people would drive more carefully in this kind of weather."
"You'd think," I agreed. Then I realized I hadn't even thought about dinner. What to make…? Something fast so I could get him out of the kitchen and me up to my room. "Are you hungry? I was thinking soup." My tone was pitiable.
"Sounds great to me, I'm going to turn on the game. Do you want to join me?"
I rose one eyebrow "Dad, since when do I enjoy watching sports with you?" A slight grin crept across his lips and then he shrugged. I knew he was only trying to keep me away from the solitude of my room, but I longed for it. "Anyway, I have homework to do. I'll bring the soup into you."
"Thanks Bells." He watched me for a few seconds then gradually turned and walked out of the room. I heard a click followed by the muffled groans of a crowd.
I tossed the garbage bag under the table, just in case he came back in the kitchen, and then opened the pantry and pulled out the first can of soup I could find. A few minutes later I was pouring the soup into a bowl, and placing it on the tray with some crackers and a glass of milk. I put one arm under the tray and grabbed the bag with the other. When I got to the stairs I gently put it on the first step, so that it wouldn't make much noise, and then walked into the living room to see Charlie sitting in his usual spot, his eyes intently watching the screen.
Trying not to interrupt him, I carefully laid the tray upon the coffee table. As I glanced up, the television just happened to catch my attention, and though I knew nothing of the teams or players, I knew the game that was being played, baseball. I could feel the
familiar ache in my chest beginning to overwhelm me and for just a brief moment, hoping that it would minimize the suffering, I allowed the memories to wash over me. I felt weak for allowing it, I knew that when it was over I would regret the few moments of bliss I felt when I thought of him.
In those brief seconds, I allowed my mind to picture his gorgeous face, his stunning topaz eyes, and the reminiscence of his appealing breath upon my face. I could almost smell the aroma of his breath and when my knees quivered and my body began to shudder, it brought me back to reality.
"Edward," the whispered word slipped from my lips before I could catch it. His name, I spoke with such love and affection, caused the pain in my chest to intensify and I lost my breath. I rushed out of the room, my footsteps heavy, and in a swift motion, grabbed the bag on the stairs and dashed for my room.
"Bella, are you okay?" Charlie's concerned voice called to me as I reached the last step.
"Yes, just tired," I chocked, trying my best to sound calmed, but it sounded rushed. My chest heaved to catch air and without waiting for Charlie to answer, I entered my room, practically slamming the door and then leaning against it for support. I could feel my legs threatening to give out beneath me, so I pressed my back against the door and slid to the ground. I pulled my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and tucked my head onto my knees.
In the solitary of my room, I allowed the dam that held back my emotions to break, and the tears began to fall. A moan escaped my grasp, as the vision of him appeared before me like a hallucination, his skin radiating like thousands of diamonds glimmering in the summer sun. I couldn't tear my gaze away from him, but slowly, his honey eyes changed to onyx and I watched as my beloved began to vanish into air.
I shook my head, stiffening myself, for I couldn't deal with the pain anymore. It hurt unbelievably, after feeling such a loss, the pain of turning into a vampire would be nothing compared to this. I sneered, harshly chuckling to myself. I refused to allow the pain to dominate me, but like what I had felt within my truck, the rage began to
infest itself within me. I craved to release it and upon impulse I thrust myself up, the first thing within my grasp, my collection of CDs.
I held the CD that Phil had given me in my hand, a CD that he also had, and launched it against my wall. It exploded on impact; the case shattering into multiple pieces, but the CD itself some how remained in tact. I brushed away the plastic pieces that had fallen on the disk and then snapped it in half with my hands. The jagged edges snared my skin, but I didn't notice. The sound of the cracking sent a surge through my body, knowing that my frail, human hands could cause destruction. I felt a power within myself, I had never known before, swell. I repeated the process with every other CD that reminded me of him, which ended up being all of them.
"Bella?" Charlie's strong voice called out, almost like he was just outside of my door. "Bella, honey what was that?"
"I tripped and my CDs and fell to the ground," I lied, but it still sounded convincing and I heard his footsteps just faintly retract back to the living room.
My breath was ragged as I glared upon the broken mess that use to be my CDs. Plastic pieces were scattered around my room, fragments of CDs every where I looked. Physically, I had devastated any thing that could have reminded me of Edward. I looked at the mess, my breathing becoming irregular, and a smug smirk laced across my lips. Feeling content within when the thought that I might be able to move on came into my thoughts, however that quickly changed. From the corner of my eye, lying on the nightstand beside my bed, I saw two books that made my head swim. Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park. I picked up Sense and Sensibility and turned to a random page and, of course, the name Edward was the one word on the page that seemed to jump out more so then any other. I began to tear into the books, pulling each page away from the binding. I crumbled them into small heaps and threw them negligently to the ground. A few times, I kicked the papers, stomping on them in frustration. They lay scattered around me, half of them ruffled while others had been split into multiple sections. The
covers I threw against the wall and they landed in the pile of broken plastic.
My fists were clenched at my sides and I turned to see the stereo lying by the door. I could see the faint outline of the broken metal pieces beneath the large folds of the bag. It was radiant next to the carnage in my room and I knew that I wouldn't get rid of it. I would keep it as a remembrance, for I wasn't ready to let go yet. It was beautiful next to the CDs and torn pages and it almost hurt to tuck it away into my closet. I would know it was there, but I couldn't stomach seeing it every day. I wiped the back of my hand across my cheeks, brushing away the tears, and began to clean up the mess. I placed the
black trash bag, holding my stereo, in the back of my closet, and hid it beneath a few fallen articles of clothing. Next, I retrieved a broom and swept all the pages and shards of plastic into a pile, sweeping them into a small bag and then dropped that into the garbage
pin in the bathroom.
When I returned to my room, I turned off my light and collapsed onto my bed, not bothering to change my clothes, and curled beneath the covers. I wrapped the blanket around me as tight as it could go, imagining it to be his arms holding my body, except I couldn't feel his coldness; I didn't smell his breath. Nor could I hear his familiar whispering into my ear.
I laid there in the darkness, silent tears streaming down my checks, pretending that loneliness would look as bad on him as I knew it looked on me. It was a paper thin pretense, but tonight I would allow myself the hope that came with the thought. In the few moments that my mind was quiet I could hear the cadence of the rain again. The gentle rap on my window was once again hypnotizing, but sleep still evaded me. The rain slowed to a trickle and I could hear the wind sweeping through the trees outside. I imagined the ebb and flow of the trees from earlier. I gently closed my eyes, listened to the wind, and wept as it tenderly rocked me to sleep.
