I am a shadow. I am a shell. I am not who I was, yet I embody her. I am teeth and venom, like a snake. I am fake blood, drinking and drinking until I could pop. I am like a mosquito. I am golden eyes that really should be red. I am cold bitterness. I am a monster.
But today I am hopeful.
The air is thick with fog as I dart through the woods, towards the spot where he said he would meet me. I expect to meet an old man, someone who is as close to death as I am.
Before I left the house today I tried to make myself look as inhuman as possible. I am wearing no shoes, a tank top and shorts. It is the middle of January.
He cannot want me. He cannot. I refuse to let him look at me like he wants to save me. Those withered eyes that I know I will encounter; I cannot let them want me.
I stop at the edge of the clearing. There's a creek running through this little field, and I'm so close to La Push and to him. I could practically smell him.
I could smell him. He smelled like a dog, if I was to be honest. The vampire that I was reeled back at the stench, but the human memories that remembered the way he smelled were overjoyed at the prospect of being close to him again.
I step out into the clearing first, just like we agreed. It was a matter of caution more then anything. He didn't want to be the one to put his neck on the line. I could understand that. The sun hits my body, and I shimmer. I sit down on the dry, brittle grass and wait for him to step out from the edge of the woods.
He's young. No. No no no. Stupid boy. "Why?"
He doesn't back away at the sharpness of my voice, but creeps closer until I can see him fully in the sunlight. He hasn't aged. Not after I begged him, I—
"Jacob, why didn't you—"
The sad look on his face made me stop. Please don't ask, it said. Please don't ask me why I didn't age for you.
For me, of course he didn't want to do anything for me anymore. And I was selfish to think that he would have. We always ended up miserable together.
"How are you?"
Stupid question. He was probably much better off then I was. He could be happy, knowing he could age and go on if he wanted. He could live. And I was already dead in this hell of a world.
I had decided to stand up so that he could see me for what I was, could know me for what I was. I watched his lovely eyes take me in before they settled on my face. I wondered how different my dead face looked from my human face.
"Bella," he drew out my name with misery before taking another step forward. I took this positively. "Yes, I am still Bella."
He bit his lip before shaking his head. "You're just Bella. You're not Bells."
"Yes," I swallowed, "I suppose you're right. I'm not…who I was."
His eyes were still wandering over every inch of my face, as if still searching for any semblance of humanity. I could have told him there was none left. "Do you regret it?" he asked softly.
"Every day."
He fell to his knees before me, his hand moving to twist through his chin length hair. He didn't have anyone to keep it long for anymore. I followed him slowly to the ground. I could feel the heat coming from him. I was afraid of it, afraid of what it might do to me, of what it might bring back.
"Bella," he chocked out, "I tried so hard to keep you from this."
I leaned as close to him as I would dare. "I'm…I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you Jacob. I didn't listen to you. But this is not your fault. This is my mistake and I must live with it forever."
He groaned. I leaned back now, if he touched me it would all be over. I was wary of his hands. They were by his side now, gripping onto to nothing but the air. If they touched me, if I felt their warmth…
I would never be able to go back.
"Jacob please, please listen to me. You cannot make yourself miserable over this, it will ruin your life," I begged him, daring to move forward an inch. "One mistake ruined my life, do not let the same destroy any chance you have at living."
He was crying now. "I should have stopped you. I should have done everything—"
"You did do everything. I was just too foolish to listen."
"I can't even look at you Bella. You just look…like you don't even want to be anymore." He had taken those hands and buried his face into them.
That horrible feeling came. They pricked at the back of my eyes, they caused my breath to gather up in my chest and squeeze. I was choking on my unshed tears. They were building up, ready to explode.
The dry sobs ripped out of my body. He was right. I didn't want to be anything. I didn't want to be what I was, and there was no being what I had been. There was just existence and why would one want to simply exist when they could live?
He touched me. His affectionate hands moved through my hair in rhythmic, soothing motions. The heat shot through my icy skins and down throughout my body. It was exhilaration. It was like he was pushing his heat and life into me.
I would never be able to go back.
I pushed myself forward and into his arms. He shrank back at first, but then he wrapped his arms around me tightly and held me close.
It was like a flame had flicked at my soul and ignited it. I felt alive. The heat was making me high; I could barely keep my thoughts together. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest, could hear the blood rushing through his veins. It was his life, and maybe if I pressed myself close enough, maybe if I pushed away the thoughts of 'forever' and 'existence' hard enough, it could be my life too.
"Jacob I feel alive," I said wistfully. He shivered at my cool breath, but continued to hold me close.
His heart was my heart. His blood was my blood. His life was my life.
I would ask Jacob to end it one day soon, and he would agree to it, but for now I would enjoy living, no matter how much of a pretend it was.