Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Bella Swan, nor any other feature of Twilight. Credit for that goes to Stephenie Meyer.
I sunk beneath the water, the brim of the bathtub hiding everything from view. The water plugged my ears, muting the hammering rain. Closing my eyes, I wished the water would drown out my thoughts as well, but my mind couldn't escape recurring thoughts of Dracula.
I remember my sophomore English teacher assigning the book in the beginning of October, for the sake of Halloween. She was trying to get the class hyped on reading, but the only upside was the brick-heavy hardcover, which provided us with daydreams of throwing our copies at her and knocking her out stone-cold.
The girl that sat beside me always spoke about having nightmares after reading the night's assigned chapter. She'd shiver, her eyes wide with terror, as she would tell me about Count Dracula sinking his teeth into her throat on Halloween night, about her feeling the blood trickle all the way down her Barbie costume. I couldn't decide which was more disgusting to envision: the Barbie costume drenched in blood or the Barbie costume itself.
I, on the other hand, had no nightmares about the book whatsoever. The thought of a Transylvanian man drinking blood disturbed me, obviously, and imagining it all made me a little nauseous, but not scared. I didn't like it either, though. I found it boring and tried to answer the study questions via SparkNotes. Mrs. What's-her-name was one step ahead of me, though, and strategically formed questions so in-depth that I felt I had to actually bury myself in the pages.
But now the book was haunting me more than ever. Jacob's voice was ringing in my head. The cold ones, he called them. I thought about how cold Edward's hand was. I thought of his strikingly white teeth... unexpectedly, I imagined them crowned with blood... I sat up in the water, feeling dizzy again. Shaking my head lightly, I tried to drive my thoughts away from Count Dracula. The farthest I got was Lucy Westenra – the victim.
Lucy Westenra was proposed to three times in one freaking day. John Seward, the smart doctor who ran a psycho bin. Quincey Morris, who had to shoot his horse after it was mauled by vampire bats. Then there's Arthur Holmwood, the "honorable" dude. A terrifying thought rushed in after – my spring dance incident. Eric, the smart guy... Tyler, whose van was ruined with what had to be Edward's back... Mike, the nice one I can't bring myself to hate... all of whom who had asked me to the dance, in the same day. No, I told myself. They're not that similar. In fact, I had to draw out those similarities – no need to panic.
But I should be disgusted. I should be calling up whatever-her-name-is from the office and asking for a schedule change pronto, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't even want it. Because no matter how creepy it sounded, I couldn't picture Edward advancing toward my throat – baring his gorgeous teeth – without turning it into a passionate kiss... holy crow, I'm pathetic.
But I didn't try to push the thought away. I let it in... Edward's cold lips... his pale, almost luminescent face... his mesmerizing topaz eyes gazing over me... visualizing his crooked smile gave me goosebumps, even half-submerged in hot bathwater. The sweat on my hairline froze as I imagined his icy breath bearing down on me.
Thinking about him, I gradually started to decline back into the water again, slow as the sun sinking over the horizon. Like some crepuscular creature, the image of Edward seemed to grow stronger and stronger with each milestone of descent... it reached my shoulders as I thought about his hands touching my face... my chin, and he lifted his head from my throat... he looked straight into my eyes, and I stopped sinking for a moment. My heart was racing - his face inched towards mine – then finally, that moment of sweet salvation...
His chilled lips met mine, and I sunk into the hot water entirely.