"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a might stranger: I should not seem part of it."
- Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights, Ch.9 /
The voice was barely a whisper, yet it was enough to rouse me from a sleep.I knew that voice. It lacked the warmth and comfort of Jacobs. Instead it was slick, forceful and marble like. It seemed flatter, colder than I had last remembered. Yet it was still the voice I'd grown to miss, so to hear it again in my own home brought back the aching pain that had recently been pushed aside; almost forgotten.
Still with all that misery, the hairs of my arms still stood, and I could feel the electricity circulating cold through my bloodstream causing a vast amount of goosebumps.
Edward.
I wasn't sure if it was a fabrication because over the past months my mind had created a different s conceptions of thoughts, one where Edward had never left me. So the knowledge of whether I was even awake at all was a mystery to myself.
I laid there for a moment perfectly still, convincing myself I had never heard it to begin with. It was then I heard it again, fainter this time. I sat up tangled in my bedsheets, noticing that at the sound of the voice my room had become what it had been months ago: damp, and quiet. Nothing like it had been when I'd fallen asleep earlier with Jacob.
Jake had been there for keep my nightmares at a distance, my dreams of Edward never seemed to come when he were around.
I noticed he had left too, had he also heard the voice?
At the thought of this my feet gained pace, stumbling down the landing, trying to keep a reasonable balance. This was ridiculous, what was I doing? Who was I meant to be defending? Who was I running to? Someone who had the strength and ability to hurt Jacob, or someone who's entire history centred around killing something I loved?
I wrapped my hand around my torso as I let the thoughts of Edward invade my mind. I lingered for a moment at the top of the stairs, leaning over slightly, trying to hold myself together.
"Bella, I'm here, love."
My legs shot out from under me and I ran, almost falling down the stairs.
It was then Charlie came into view, he'd surrounded himself with my college applications, reviewing the choices Jake and I had been looking at earlier. I almost felt pitiful for him, sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa for the sake of my dreams that kept interrupting his sleep. I hadn't noticed all that Charlie had done, given up any sort of social existence to stay home with me. Someone who was so dramatically depressed I couldn't even conjure up a conversation.
When I finally saw the tall figure I stood frozen, as I watched him lift his hand, turning the dull lit room making him barely noticeable into light. Standing in front of me was not the voice that I had heard, but for whatever reason I lacked disappointment.
"Jacob."
Then I was awake.