Title: The return of a Daughter
Summery: The views of a supernatural being that watches Charlie prepare for Bellas arrival from Arizona when she comes to live with him.
English is not my fist language and I find spelling and grammar confusing and perplexing so be warned
I find a comfortable seat on the window sill in Charlie's bedroom to sit and contemplate his sleeping form, he does not seem to be peaceful in his slumber he tosses and turns and mumbles in his sleep. Probably to excited for tomorrow to get into a deep restful sleep. I use the time to collect my own thoughts; Charlie's excitement over tomorrow is only equalled by my dread of it. I am spitefully hoping that he does not wake up, that I don't have to go through all that again. As soon as I think it I feel bad, how can I wish death on the old man even after all that has happened? Turning my body away form him to hide my shame I gaze outside to the starless night trying to ready myself for the agony waiting for me when Charlie wakes up.
The alarm clock goes off at 7:30 just like it does every other Wednesday. I watch as Charlie slowly gets up with a grunt his years are catching up wit him, his hair is almost completely gray standing all over his head. He yawns turns into a smiles as he looks at the calendar on his bedside table. I know the reason for that smile, every Wednesday he pulls the same face and says the same words "finally" even if my heart has stopped beating, every time he says it I feel my heart stop again like I have been dumped in freezing cold water suddenly no matter how many times a hear it, it always has this effect on me. He puts on his slippers and disappears out of the room not even looking at me, he never looks at me. I thought I would have been used to being ignored but the hole in my middle aches every time he walks past me without a glance.
He makes his way down the stairs murmuring about how he has to fix the loose step three steps form the top. He says it every time but never seems to get to it. I fallow slowly behind him, listening to him as he starts his morning coffee and puts on the stove.
I make my way in too the kitchen just as he pores the black sludge into his favourite chipped cup, the cup with the best daddy ever written on it. He does not drink the sludge he only stares at the cup. It's like that every time, he just looks at the old memento for a small eternity, the sludge has become ice cold by the time he smells the smoke, he gets so absorbed in his thoughts, by the idea that his daughter is coming to stay with him that he forgets about his bacon in the frying pan, the meat starts to smoke up the kitchen. I can only sigh at this he has never learned to make anything that is remotely edible. All the years of bad cooking have damaged kitchens walls, the green wall are faded and there are scorch marks over the stove. They are desperately in need to be repainted but I doubt Charlie notices it.
Charlie grunts as he looks at the burned mess in the frying pan and the oil droplets and bacon grease that has splattered over the stove and walls "I have to clean this up before Bella comes, she should not feel that she has to look after me" I can not help but giggle morbidly at the irony off that statement. I lean against the door frame while Charlie begins his 'cleaning' of the kitchen which only entails scraping the burnt bacon into the trash can and dragging paper towels over the kitchen table and counters which only spreads the dirt around. The house is covert in dust it's almost like all the surfaces has a disgusting brown blanket on, the windows are so covert in grime that it is imposable to see through them, cobwebs are all over the once immaculate house. Charlie never notices the filth it used to scare me that he doesn't but I have gotten use to it by now.
Years of living alone means Charlie has started talking to himself. I don't think he notices it anymore it has become part of his routine. "Renee said that Bellas flight lands at four...don't want to be late". I stay down stairs while Charlie fetches his alarm from his bedroom. He sets the time for one and puts the silver devise on the dining room table. He does this very Wednesday like clock work but just like every Wednesday he never gives the alarm enough time to go off I doubt today will be anything deferent.
"there is so ... gotta do" he mumbles to himself as he takes out a white card out of his wallet, The card is turning yellow and the edges are worn, faded black letters are stamped on the front of the card: Forks public library . "I hope she likes it, she always liked to read. Probably not as good as the one in Phoenix" He puts the card on the dinner table next to the alarm. He sighs hopefully and retreats back into the kitchen.
I know what's coming next, it's always the same with Charlie every Wednesday it is the same but this one is too hard for me to watch. So I leave to house and go sit on the back porch steps placing my hands over my ears like a small child trying to block out the sound coming form the house. My attempt is useless I can still hear the muted sound form inside even if I can not make out the exact words spoken. But even if I can't hear a thing I can recite exactly what is being said.
Charlie is phoning the diner to make sure the cherry cobbler is available and if they remembered to save him and his daughter a table for tonight, the girl on the other end is use to these kinds of phone calls she reassure him there will be cobbler and they will have a table available. Charlie tells her how useless chook he is and that he does not want to poison his daughter on her fist night. I can almost picture the sad sigh of the girl on the other end of the line; I think she almost hates these phone calls as much as I do by now.
Next he calls the station telling Deputy Max that he must run the fort today, Bella is coming home he says. I kick at an invisible rock as 'Deputy' Max is telling him that he has everything under control that Charlie does not have to worry about a thing. It's not really Duputy Max anymore its chief now, but he still plays along to Charlie's phone calls. The sad tone of Max's words feels like daggers to my hart as he concludes the phone call desperate to get it over with. I can't hear the conversation but I know exactly what is taking place inside the house even sitting outside I can't escape it.
After talking to Max, Charlie makes his finale phone call and I make my way back inside the house I always come inside for this call,it is the only hope I have to finally get some peace, I am feeling the fluttering of hope in my chest that I have no rights to as he starts calling his friend Billy Black. Billy will not answer; he does not talk to Charlie anymore, not for a while now. Sometimes Jacob answers , this is the origins of my hopeful feelings, Jocab is not one for pretences he always tells it straight to Charlie, he is the only one left that does, those days are the worst and the best. The couple of times that it has happened Charlie just shrugged it off saying that the kid must be on something, it always brakes my heard and gives me hope when Charlie is confronted with the fact that he will not accept.
It's a bitter sweet feeling, hoping Jacob answers, hoping that he makes Charlie understand. That the truth finally gets through to Charlie. Even thought the chances is slim the phone call is in many ways this is highlight of my day the only hope I still have of ending this misery is based on the outcome . Seems I don't have any luck today though the line just rings and rings till Charlie gives up hope of someone answering mumbling to himself about how he will phone back later, he puts the phone back into the cradle. I did not really expect another outcome but there is sill a part of me that is a bit disappointed.
I am alone for a while as Charlie disappears into the bathroom for his morning rituals. Taking a seat on the living room sofa as he starts the shower I Listen to the splatter of the water from upstairs is soothing for a couple of minutes I can imagine that everything is back to normal just like old times. My mind wanders from the fantasy and my peaceful state changes as I contemplate the water droplets. It reminds me of the rain and the rainy town that I hate and love at the same time. All that I need to end t my torment is one salty drop of water from Charlie. I need him to except the truth so that I can finally leave this town, but any chances of that happening does not really existed it seems. All that is left for me is too see the results of my actions, forever trapped in the misery that I caused, I wander what is going to happen when Charlie is gone, what is going to happen to me then? Where will I go when the house is empty?
My thoughts are interrupted as a newly dressed Charlie half runs and half skips down the stairs. He is wearing a pair of too small jeans that look like that they where expensive once upon a time, Renee probably bought those years ago, they barely reach his ankles now he pairs of the jeans with a fades and stained white oxford shirt. The outfit is a big leap for a man that usually lives in plaid and would have looked nice if clothes where not past their better days.
He is brimming with joy to start his preparations; he starts by pulling out purple bedding from the chest in the den. "I hope she likes them. Purple, hope its ok. Sale lady said...Should have asked Renee what she..." he trails off as he heaves the bedding upstairs. I don't want to fallow, it is only gonna hurt being in that bedroom. But because I'm a fool for punishment or because I like being in the company of a happy Charlie, I slowly make my way upstairs after him. I can never get myself to walk into the bedroom; it hurts just standing in the hallway, so I lean against the railing as far as I can be form the bedroom and watch Charlie form the open door. The room looks exactly the same as I remember it, except for the thick layer of dust coating all the services. I watch as he makes the bed happily humming to himself as he awkwardly throws the sheets over the mattress. Most of the sheet lands on the carpet and the parts that made it on to the bed are lying in a crumbled heap on top of the mattress. Charlie does not notice this as he continues with the pillow casings.
The bed looks like it has been made by a two year old when Charlie is done, the bedding is skew and wrinkled and uneven lumps of material are visible all over. Charlie stuffed the pillow casings like someone would stuff a turkey. But never the less he smiles at his handy work running his hands over the bed as to smooth out small wrinkles but all he is doing is moving the lumps to around.
Taking a couple of steps back Charlie admires the bed like a person would admire an artwork in a museum. He runs down stairs and picks up the library card; he puts the card in the middle of the bed to wait for its new owner. "Bella should see this when she steps into the room, maybe it will make her miss her old one less." He states this like he has invented the cure for aids
I can not take it anymore his optimistic happy demeanour is driving me insane, why can he not except the truth and move on everyone else has. "Charlie wont you remember, remember when Deputy Max cave you the coroners report and the death certificate, where are they Charlie what did you do with them, please remember Charlie! Remember when Max came; remember the look on his face when he gave you the papers! Please except it Charlie" I scream and rant behind his back, begging and pleading him to remember. He does not take his eyes off the bed he just looks at it like it is some kind of shrine.
He does not hear me or even look at me as he step outside of the room and closes the door. I watch as he enters his own bedroom to make his own bed. I take a moment to compose myself as he disappears down the hallway. As I enter the bedroom I watch Carlisle as he looking at his reflection in the bedroom mirror, stoking his hands over the week's worth of facial hair on his chin and cheeks. "Cant pick up Bella looking like this" he whispers to himself before disappearing back down the hall. I sit down on his bed as he goes to the bathroom for his shave.
He still has a wedding picture of him and Renee on his bedside table. He could never really let go of her. I guess holding on to the people he loves, believing that the separation between him and his family never happened or is only temporary is his copping mechanism. I really wish he could learn to accept the inevitable. It could save me and himself so much pain if he could only let go of things once in a while.
He retunes to his bedroom, he passes me on his way to the mirror without a second glance. He is straightening his shirt and admiring himself in mirror as I make my way to him. I stand behind him looking at our joined reflections in the full length mirror. What a pair we make. Charlie looks like he has shaven with a broken tin can, only parts of his cheeks are shaven, tuffs of hair are sticking out in puffs on his face and other parts are clean shaven. He has also nicked himself a couple of times. Little drops of blood are visible all over his face and his white shirt is now even more stained.
I move form investigating his reflection to looking at myself. My hair is clinging to my head. My skin is an unnatural pale with a blue tinge to it. There are purple and pink blotches under my eyes and on my cheeks. My lips are almost completely blue. Me and Charlie look like we could be he stars of a horror movie.
Charlie moves away from the mirror and collects the car and house keys form his bedside table and then leave the room humming again as he makes his way down the stairs. I fallow as slowly as I can behind him, walking like someone on their way to the gallows.
I observe the house from atop the stair case as I walk down. Some kids where throwing stones at the house a couple of moths ago hoping to get a reaction from Charlie. They broke one of the windows, glass are still scattered all over the floor. Some kind of spider has made a nest between the TV cabinet and the living room wall, its offspring is now taking over the living room. Just like the dust and filth it does not seem that Charlie has any plans in removing them, or even noticing them.
Charlie turns the alarm off and collects his jacket. while he does this I make my way out of the house to the rusted, faded red truck ,waiting for him to get his things so we can get this over with. I climb into the passenger seat as he walks down the steps, the truck still smells like mixture of Tobacco , rain and fish fry its is kind of sickening and reassuring at the same time. I watch Charlie through the rear view window as he strokes the side of the truck like it's a Ferrari and not a gas eating rust bucket, he is wearing a stupid smile like he is picking up his crush for prom and the truck is the limo or something.
The trip to Seattle is uneventful; Charlie just looks at the road with that stupid grin on his face while I look at him with a frown on mine, it is kind of an awkward silent atmosphere.
We are almost half way there and he is still totally in his own world, ayes on the road with that smile on his face. The grin is mocking me; it's only there because he thinks he is picking me up form the airport that fact hurts more then any words can explain, I wish I can end his misery end the false hope so he can move on with his live, every moment of seeing him like this is absolute torture. I slam my hands down on the trucks dash board, trying to get him out of this stupor. "Remember when Sam brought the truck back form the cliff edge; he said he was sorry for you lose Charlie. Please Charlie remembers, the CLIFF Charlie remember the cliff, I jumped off the cliff! I am not at the airport, Charlie. I am gone form this world" I slam my hands against the truck door the sound is like a lightning bold echoing in the cab. Charlie does not hear it, he does not move, he does not notice me. Its useless he can't see me he will never see me. I feel the tears on the edge of spilling, I can't cry I can't sleep and dream that this is not real I can never escape the pain I caused. I retreat into my seat wallowing in my own cloud of sadness.
Charlie remains silent, still with that stupid grin on his face. I am starting to hate the lack of noise in the cab it just reminds me off what I have done. I tried to turn on the radio to break the silence till I remembered that the closest thing the truck has to a radio is a big ass hole in the dash. That just reminds me of the big ass fool I was, throwing everything away for some controlling, melodramatic, misogynistic, arrogant ass hole vampire, who likes to pat himself on the back for all the hardships he had to survive as an immortal.
I guess living eternally as a stinking rich heart throb that never has to have a job but still lives in a mansion ,has all the access to the fastest cars and newest gadgets and has a mommy and daddy that took him back after even he went on a killing spree probably just because he was bored must really suck, O poor Edward what a hard life you have to live, not being able to drive your Astern martin because you have to fit in with all the mortals around you that actually have to work for their money.
At least I finally understand why he did not want me to be immortal, I have no future no life nor has Charlie. I am forced to see the results of my foolish actions. I have to watch as Charlie slips deeper into madness with out being able to do anything about it but fallow him around and witness how it increases. No one looks at me or speaks to me or knows I am here. What is going to happen when Charlie is gone, am I going to stay stuck in this purgatory forever seeing everybody's lives around me continuing while mine is stuck in stasis, am I going to watch all my loved ones die while no one is aware of me, am I going to be stuck in that house all alone for all eternity while the world outside changes and goes on living without me. Edward has no idea how horrible eternity can be.
He has probably already found him another human to dazzle, probably sitting across form her now in some cafeteria in some sunless town telling her all the amazing things he has seen and done in his hundred and nine year existence while asking her a bunch of pointless questions and telling her how special she is. He probably does this in every town he and his family moves to, and as soon as the girl gets older then he is, he and his family pack up and leave for another cloudy town before the relationship gets to serious and she starts demanding immortality and commitment. 'O Bella I will always love you in away, your too good to become a blood sucking demon like me you belong in heaven', yeah whatever.
It's actually so ironic that I got my wish to live frozen at 18 for all eternity and got the chance too witness exactly what my absence has done to my father. I can't believe that this hell was once my biggest desire, I deserve this, to see what my selfishness has done to everybody that actually loved me and not just pretended to, but Charlie does not deserve this fate he deserved a happy normal live. He did nothing wrong, this is all on me. I cost him his future and now he is living in this purgatory with me and he does not even know it.
I turn my gaze to the threes flying by in the window, trying not to get lost in my thoughts, thinking more of the reality of Charlie and my existence is only going to deepen my depression. I wonder what Renee is doing she did come too Forks after I jumped. That was a really scare time; it took me awhile to figure out that I was dead. I struggle with perceiving time, the days that Charlie is not going to the airport to pick me up are all kind of blurry I don't know what I am when I am not fallowing Charlie around getting the house ready for my arrival , maybe I only exist on these days. Its like ground Hogg day except that I am aware that time has passed between the days.
The fist couple of days Charlie was totally catatonic it was...normal for us. I and Charlie aren't really known for our long conversations and I was still depressed about the Edward thing that I did not even notice that no one saw me or spoke to me. It took Renee's arrival and seeing me in the mirror that revealed the truth. It was not the dead eyes or my blue skin that gave it away but the fact that I am soaking wet, the water never evaporates or drips off, but my clothes and hair sticks to my body, that and the fact when Renee came she did not seem to see me or speak to me which is unusual for Renee but not really uncommon Renee does not deal with her problems she runs away from them and i think my depression was something she could not get her mind around so ignoring it and me rather then dealing with it would be classic Renee , but when she asked Charlie what kind of coffin he thought I would like that is when the truth sunk in, to say that I was freaked out was an understatement I screamed and pleaded tried to brake things and even ran around the house naked but no one saw me. I even tried to contact the Cullens for help, but I soon figured out I can't leave the house without Charlie going with me so searching all the cloudy towns in the world is kind of a impossibility and I don't think they will be able to see me, Jacob cant.
Charlie never helped her pick out the coffin though. Renee ended up going for a monstrosity of a thing with huge gold handles and some kind of gold figure on top, something that she would have liked. She took me back with her, well the physical me and berried me in Jacksonville, Charlie did not go so I could not go. Which I think is a good thing; I shudder at the thought of how my tombstone must look like if Renee picket it. Having my funeral in Jacksonville also meant that none of my class mates could go. I think the only people that I actually knew at the funeral was Jacob who made the in his Rabbit, Renee and Phil, but I think Renee must have invited her whole social circle so I don't think they where alone.
We reach the airport parking lot in no time at all, I cant see how that is possible in my old truck, but it probably has something to do with my perception with time then Charlies amazing driving skills. He observes his reflection in the rear view mirror before getting out. He smoothes out his greying hair which I can tell has not seen a hair brush in some time and is still standing around in all angels on his head. The blood from cuts on his cheeks and chin has started to clot stopping the bleeding, but it's still not a pretty site, he straitens is shirt before getting out. I have to run to catch up with his long strides.
Charlie gets weird looks as he makes his way to arrivals, people are walking circles around him just in case he is some kind of criminal or a terrorist. I hate it that they avoid him when I would give anything for him to be able to recognise me standing next to him, to see what his refusal to accept my death is doing to me, or just to have a freaking conversation with me.
Charlie makes his way to an unconvertible looking plastic chair, I sit on the ground cross legged in front of him and so we wait for the 'my' flight to arrive. Charlie still has that huge scary smile plastered on his face, even bigger then before. Like a child seeing Disney land for the fist time. It's kind of disconcerting for a grown man to smile like that, especially when his face and shirt has blood on them. I wish I could wipe the smile of his face. He is always so happy and positive, he has not once since my death done so much as frown. I need him to cry for me, to morn me so that I can move on, sometimes... I don't know if it's right for me to wish for that freedom. I should give Charlie his ignored bliss and just be thankful that I can still be in his life.
He looks straight at the gate where I am supposed to immerge from; His eyes have a twinkle to them as he waits for his long last daughter to come live with him. It's like I am under the crashing waves again fighting for another breath of air looking at his face is killing me again. I feel like his tugging at my heart strings forcing the dead organ to feel everything that he is refusing to accept. I hate that he can't see me, that he cant talk to me, I just want him to hold me again and tell me everything is going to be ok. I lay my head and hands in his lap sobbing tearlessly at all that we have lost
"Please daddy you got to let me go, please so that you can go on, please live your life. I am never coming back" my voice breaks, I really wish I could come back for him." Just one tear dad that is all that I need to move on. You got to accept it" He does not even look at me. I start rocking myself against his legs sobbing into his lap. "please daddy, please please please...let me go, let me go" I chant it over and over like a prayer hoping that it gets through to him
It feels like knifes slices through my chest as he stands up, the movement pushes me to the side. He has no regard for me or my emotional turmoil as he stands up to speak with a flight attendant. I know it is not his fault but his refusal to comfort me in my emotional turmoil and watching him just walk away hurts my very soul "Excuse me miss, has flight 1286 arrived jet, its not on the board"
"Sorry sir there is no such flight arriving"
"O really maybe I got the day wrong, she is probably only coming next Wednesday"
Based on a South African short story called terugkeer van n soldaat (Return of a soldier). The reason I am writing the story is to improve my own writing skills I know I am not half as good as the other writhers on the site and I really want to improve so I can wright better academic texts, I have had lecturers tell me my work makes no sense, so if you made it to the end and understood me please tell me it will do wonders for my self esteem.