I am not dead! Yeah, it's been a LONG time. I'm sorry I haven't written anything, but I haven't had any inspiration at all. Until now, anyway. :)
While I love S. Meyer and her form of writing, I always felt like Bella should have gotten angry or something after Edward left her. So, I wrote it down. Bare in mind, I am Team Edward and this is in no way going against him. Well, maybe a few comments, but nothing bad.
Hope you enjoy!
Please, please review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
As most would say, "Pick the weeds, keep the flowers." Well, right now I was picking both. Having been numb for five months now after Edward- the bastard-left me…alone…in the woods. I had dropped all my friends, given up on referring to Charlie as dad, and left Jacob in the dust after he cut our friendship short after his change to the big bad wolf.
Now, I understand, it seems harsh, but quite frankly, my dears, I don't give a damn. I had practically dropped off the face of the earth without a second after Edward walked away from what we had. Of course, at the time, the numbness had helped. But now…and this leads to my current predicament. I had worked so hard to stay in the blissful void of unawareness I had made for myself. Dug a mote. Streamed the water. Closed the gate. Made the walls unbreakable. Unshakable. Unfortunately, it could not last forever. Now, to my predicament, I was pissed. Completely and utterly furious at Edward.
His voice that whispers in my head.
His caresses that still soar through my mind and make me blush.
His lips, cold and gentle, ever present, uncharacteristically ghostlike on mine.
His perfect face.
His perfect body.
His thirst.
His intelligence.
His pure, undiluted stupidity.
Damn him.
As of now, my truck rumbles maniacally down the wet, slick road. It filled my ears, blocking all other sounds. If it wasn't for the rain and lightning, I would have completely lost the thunderous roar above me in the growling of my old, animalistic truck. I was going there. Yes, there. That house. The house where he lived, breathed, spent his time.
I did not completely know what I was going to do once I got there, but the sledge hammer and box of knives in the back of my truck gave me some clues. I had put them there, yes, but I did not actually think I would get up the nerve to actually do anything with them. I was just hoping, in my red-clouded sight, that I could just stand in the living room without breaking down.
Suddenly, I found myself laughing. Crazily so. I found my own anger and desperation humorous. I'm sure to an outsider, I would just look like a crazed maniac. Which I am, don't get me wrong, but that's for another day entirely. Today was the day for me to let out my anger and not let the numbness seep back in. I laughed again. It was great. Finally feeling something. Being numb for so long does have it's advantages, however. For instance, I got to work up to this. If I had been angry to begin with, there would have been no stopping me. I would have been completely irrational. Stuck in a state of anger, sadness, loneliness. Admittedly, this isn't very rational either, but I know I have a clear head. I could be cautious, careful or vicious, vengeful…knowingly instead of the opposite. I knew where my anger was directed, but that didn't change the fact that I still love him.
Pathetic, I know, but he was mine. Being blinded so long by my love for him I never found I could not have been more wrong. He was never mine, the tool. I was his, for all intents and purposes, but he was never mine as I had so wished him to be. I was his puppet, or pet as Laurent so adequately put it. Either way, I did not like it. The thought of being a toy, a doll, a plaything to hold on the outskirts of his mind and he was the master. The puppet master, of course. What else? I could practically feel the strings, and they burned. I scratched my right hand. Nothing. I sighed in relief. Thank God.
I snorted. I really am losing it.
The truck slowed as I came to his hidden driveway. I pulled in slowly and began crawling the long way to the big house hidden in the trees. I pulled the truck up to the steps to the front door. I looked at the house, my eyes traveling up and down…up and down. Like I was sizing the house up for a fight. Maybe I was. I had to admit, it was still beautiful, even when abandoned. Esme's tastes surpassed any magazines. She was perfect with things like this. Too bad I may be the one to tear it all apart. Oh, hell, it's not like their coming back, what does it matter?
The door creaked as it opened. My feet planted firmly on the ground as I walked around to the bed and pulled out the sledge and box with the knives. I set the sledge on my shoulder, the bottom of the handle resting in my hand. I held the box in the other hand. I walked up the steps, opened the door, and slipped inside.
The room was just the same. Nothing had changed. I walked over to a nearby table and ran my finger across. Huh. Five months, no dust. Wish I could keep my house that clean. I shrugged. I walked further into the house, sledge and box in tow. The room was impeccable. Spotless. The couches, chairs, and tables were left in the open. Pristine and clean, none covered with a sheet as most homeowners make a point to do when leaving a house. But then again, the Cullen's definitely were not most homeowners much less people in general. I sighed. Life is hard, right? I placed the box on the floor and walked over to the piano. Spotless. Of course. I thought over all the times Edward and I had spent at this piano. Wonderful memories. Yet, they were nothing. No more. They just brought more anger with a little more pain-like I needed more.
I shook my head to dismiss all regrets. The sledge felt weightless, surprisingly enough, as it settled into my hands. I shook my head again. No regrets. I gave the piano one last look. First thing to go.
I raised my arms up and to the side, my torso turning slightly. I reared back, and with all my might, flung my arms down. The head of the sledge made contact with the very center of the top of the piano. I swung twice more. Farther back and towards the keys. I stepped back to survey my handy work. It was bruised, that was for sure. The large dents in the piano did nothing to calm me down. I walked closer to the piano and gave four strong, low swings. Each leg fell away and the piano fell into a broken heap on the floor. I stared at it a long time, the sledge hanging limply at my side. As great as it felt to ruin the one thing that I missed hearing more than Edward's voice, my anger still masked my relief for gaining one up on the moron. I smirked in my head. My face was frozen in an emotionless mask.
My main task was done, but I wanted to continue. That, I did. I went through the house, smashing tables, breaking beds, cutting and tearing pillows. Smashing picture frames. I even threw a couple lightweight chairs out some windows. Honestly, it felt great. I worked my way from room to room and up the stairs. Finally, I hit the third floor where Edward's room was. I walked in and found it exactly as it was before they left. Surprisingly, his CDs, books, and stereo still sat against the wall. Well, those are my first targets, I decided. Before going to work, though, I walked over to the window. The sun was setting, letting out bright flares of orange, pink, purple, and blue across the sky. It was breathtaking. Fire. Suitable. I held the sledge up, aiming straight for the stereo.
Down it went. Broken, shattered, and in pieces. A remnant of what it used to be. It was expensive and high class just like everything about him. There went the money. I smirked. The CDs came down next. I went shelf by shelf, allowing the shelves I could not reach follow suit and topple from above. The cases split as they hit the ground. As I walked from side to side, swinging at the shelves, I broke countless disks beneath my boots. Bang. Another shelf down. Click, click. Another case in two. Crack. Another disk broken. Along with my breathing, all that could be heard was beautiful destruction. It was glorious. Finally, all the shelves were down, broken disks and cases littered the floor along with loose sheets of paper from books I ripped apart along the way. Huge piles line the walls where the shelves had collapsed. The remnants of the stereo stationary, alone, broken. Just like me. Ha! A perfect analogy.
I took care of his flat screen, killed the Bluray, and ended the computer's expensive life. His desk came down in a gorgeous array of colors of different kinds of wood. I tore at his couch with a knife, cutting away at it like my heart had been cut. I ripped one cushion open and tore the fluff out with my hands. Like my heart was ripped open with his hands. Another perfect analogy. I stood in front of the couch. The poor thing was practically gone. I had gone at it far worse than I thought I had. Woops! Oh, well. I faced the window, the couch at my knees. I bent down, planted my hands on the shattered remains of the end of the middle cushion, and with one rough push, cracked the window from top to bottom. Another, the glass shattered and blew out over the yard like acid rain. The couch came tumbling after. I walked up to the now no-glass window and looked down on the disheveled cushions. The pieces of the glass sparkled in the evening light.
It was done.
I walked down the steps and out to the truck, placed the box and sledge in the bed and stood beside my truck surveying the house. Glass littered the ground. A couple chairs here and there. Windows missing from specific areas. It was then one name came to mind.
Alice.
It never occurred to me that she might have seen me destroying and vandalizing their home. Honestly, I did not care in the slightest. It was their fault. Sure, I did not have to do this, but it made me feel a hell of a lot better. For the first time in five months, I smiled. A genuine smile with a calm air. I was happy and my anger was gone. The day they come back, if they ever come back, this is the house they will find. They will have to start over, rebuild everything. It won't take them long, but even a vampire can get shocked, so they will be slowed. The thought made me happy. It was done, I felt better, and I had finished what I unknowingly came to do.
I got into my truck, backed away from the broken house, and drove away.
I was done feeling numb, and I was going to live life one painful day at a time.
I still love him, but that feeling just simmers. Still strong, but sedated.
I could live, even if only alone.
I could survive.
I will.
The light of the sun gave it's final glow.
I fell at Twilight.
I died at Twilight.
And now I was reborn.
Okay, so...yeah. I just got this idea and had to write it down.
Please, let me know what you think, flames welcome, reviews very appreciated.
Also, I may have an idea for a follow-up to this in which Bella still saves Edward but not because she's stupid enough to jump off a cliff, other circumstances. Also, the Cullen's come back to see the damage Bella did to their house. And Edward's beloved piano and CDs. Let me know if you guys would like to read that.
R&R
Xoxoxoxox
~Much Love,
VSA