A/N : I read loads and loads of Twilight stories written by Americans who write about Chicago and New York and Seattle, but, seeing as I'm English, and sadly, haven't experienced anything close to these cities, I thought 'why not bring Bella to somewhere I can relate to?' So I have brought her to the Jurassic Coast which is basically the south west coast of England, which I am very familiar with. Some of the stuff, for example, the university, are completely made up, but I do hope to stay true to the stunning coastline!
I sadly also own nothing to do with Twilight. :o(
It was raining surprise, surprise.
Apparently, in England, all it ever does is rain.
Not that I mind.
I grew up in the state of Washington, where it is in fact rare, to wake up to a day sans the soft rhythm of raindrops splattering against the window panes. I hoped growing up in Washington was going to be useful in accustoming me to the dullness of the English weather, but not unfortunately, to the overall greyness that seemed to suffocate me, along with the claustrophobic conditions of the somewhat stiflingly warm minibus.
As the cranky minibus struggles to push past 60mph on the M3 motorway, I cast my glance out of the window from the dark grey of the road ahead to the slightly lighter colour of the thick, shapeless layer of clouds. Inside the bus, a bad rendition of 'summer holiday' by Cliff Richard, is attempted by Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley, trying, I think, to boost the lifeless spirits of every student in the bus. On the contrary, it made me want to cringe further into the lumpy seat, which had a faint, unpleasant, musty smell.
I closed my eyes, trying to tune out the straining engine and it wasn't long before the jet lag consumed me, as I fell into a light sleep. Alice woke me an hour later, poking me in the stomach, a sharp jab where the pressure lingered.
'Bella, look out the window. Isn't it pretty?'
I followed Alice's instructions and looked out the window, still a little bleary eyed. I blinked and let my eyes focus on the splashes of colour in the distance. Green. Though not the rich, darks greens of home.
'We're nearly there now, Bella!'
The scenery was nice; there were fields and fields- some held crops, often a colour between gold and sand, whilst others were a picture of black and white pokadots, which I presumed were sheep and cows.
Alice didn't try to make any more conversation with me for the rest of the journey. I could hear a musical beat from her headphones and wondered idly how long her hearing would be left unimpaired with music that loud. Alice shows all the signs of anxiety and excitement, she bounces in her seat a little and strains her neck so she can read the signs out the window. I, on the other hand, feel tired and a little grumpy and really, really need a good night's sleep.
Bored, I took my letter out of my rucksack which was squashed down at my feet, unfolded it, and for the fifth time, read it silently to myself. It was from my exchange student. I would be staying with him for a month and had insisted that I know a little about him before I committed myself to the ordeal. Unfortunately, he didn't reveal too much and I ended up having to decipher every sentence. He wrote—
Isabella Swan,
I hope you are looking forward to coming to England ,you will really like it here. The Jurassic coast is an amazing place, and I hope you will accompany me to some of my favourite places during your stay here.
You will be pleased to know, I'm sure, that you will have your own room, though, I'm afraid, there is only one bathroom. Everything in my apartment will be yours as well as mine in the coming month so upon your arrival, please don't hesitate to use anything. I learnt from your letter that you are fond of cooking, so I must mention that my kitchen is well equipped- you will find everything you need, though, I must add, I never use anything but the kettle and the fridge!
I see myself as a genuine person and I hope that you will like me. I know it feels a bit unfortunate to be partnered with someone the opposite sex, I know it must be nerve wracking enough coming to a foreign country, let alone staying with a male you haven't uttered one word to before.
I have enclosed a picture of myself in order for you to recognise me upon your arrival. I look forward to seeing you, Isabella.
Edward Cullen
I slid my hand in the envelope and felt the sharp edge of Edward's enclosed picture. I took it out, facing my body away from Alice, who was still humming away obliviously to her ridiculously loud music, and quickly glanced at the male model shown. It was hard for me to believe that this picture truly was of Edward, maybe that was the reason why I was being so secretive about it. Or maybe, just for once, I wanted to keep this miracle to myself. I call it a miracle because no way on this earth is this God-like creature in the picture meant to be for me. I wanted to touch his structured jaw and run my hands through his tousled mop of copper hair. I wanted to feel his moulded lips against mine and stare into his sparkling green eyes.
But all of a sudden, reality came crashing back down upon me with staggering force. I felt my blush, inwardly cursing my decrepit reaction to my thoughts, and hastily stashed the photo and the letter safely back into the envelope. It should be illegal for me to fantasize about such things. I was average, but I considered myself a little less. I was given thick brown hair which was often impossible to style, and matching brown eyes. Though I was of slim build, my knowledge of fashion certainly diminished any appeal my body has, because I cover up in shapeless hoodies and jeans combo on a daily basis. There was nothing alluring about me at all. The lack of boyfriends was an obvious sign which displayed the lack of attraction the opposite sex had for me.
I am in major need of a confidence boost and the man in the picture will do nothing to my ego.
Nowadays, I think myself a mere shell of a human being. Certainly, the lack of confidence has something to do with it, or maybe it's because the majority of the time, I'm alone and feeling desperately sorry for myself.
Then I remember why I am sat here now, and why, despite the colours that flitter past the window, everything still seems so grey. Like a switch has been flicked in my brain, it renders me speechless at the sudden excruciating pain of why I am sat here, surrounded by the familiarity of students, but never feeling so alone in my entire life.
Suddenly my plan felt stupid and preposterous. Of course running away was never going to make me feel any less further away from my problems, even if I am on the other side of the Atlantic ocean. My troubles are like a ghostly haze which suffocate my body. They follow me everywhere. As much as Alice tries to take my mind off of things, as much as I throw myself into my school work, the pain never becomes easier.
And that's why tears began trickling down my cheeks. Of course Edward Cullen will never want me. He will take one look at me, see how much of a pathetic human being I am, and never want to lay eyes on me again. I am damaged, broken, and shouldn't be here.
I slapped a hand to my cheek discreetly and wiped away the betraying tears. I didn't like anyone to know my emotions. I let my lids close on their own accord and try to doze off for a while, ridden in my own sadness, being without happiness for so long has made me forget how it feels.
So what do you think so far? Is it worth me continuing?
