Chapter 1 - Absence
There's a sharp crunch of pebbles under my feet, reminding me of just how far I'd walked. The whoosh of the waves told me I was no longer in the isolation of the forest. And as I felt the salty sea breeze blow my long hair behind my back I realised I had wandered all the way to the beach.
As my laboured breaths evened out I took in my surroundings. The familiar cliffs felt alien somehow, I hadn't been to La Push in a long time.
I was in a daze, a daze of 'what ifs' and 'just maybes' and 'he's coming back' and I didn't notice were my feet were taking me. I don't want to be here, at this beach, it feels… wrong. Like I shouldn't be here. Old family feuds prevented me from visiting in the past, through loyalty rather than compliance. But I can be here now, there's no reason why I can't be here, not anymore.
The pebbles shift under my weight as I sit cross legged, just out of the tides reach.
I welcome the gentle breeze.
I welcome the calming rhythm it brings to my composure and the refreshing feeling it leaves on my skin.
I absorb the sound of the waves as they lap against the pebbles, mere feet from me, threatening to touch.
Im blinded by a rainbow of colours. The sun, high up in the sky, sets each individual pebble on fire. Glinting and glistening in the natural light as silent tears begin to roll down my face. The rainbow is distorted.
I couldn't do this with him.
This place was off limits. I couldn't sit on this beach and enjoy this sunshine. I couldn't feel it's far away light heat my skin. I couldn't witness the dazzling effect it had on my vision.
But now I could. He wasn't here. He made his choice, and im dealing with the after math.
I know I shouldn't be here, I know he wouldn't want me to be here. But he can no longer make that decision.
He left.
.
.
.
.
Darkness is everywhere I look, not even the moon can penetrate the thick blanket of clouds that suffocate me tonight.
Im warm. Im secure. Im alone.
Blanket upon blanket covers my tiny body in this curled up position, curled up so tightly my spine threatens to spring straight. My arms cover my chest, almost like they're holding me together, if I let go im sure to fall apart.
But it's warm, it's too warm. Layers of fabric begin to take effect and soon enough my skin is on fire. Pushing and pulling, I try to break free of my self-designed cage. Im wrapped up so tight, it's difficult to escape. My arms fail to leave my chest, and my legs cannot kick strong enough. With each failed attempt my frustration grows. My teeth grind together and my hands ball into fists. Im not even strong enough to free myself of blankets and my anger burns. This shouldn't be so difficult.
Pushing and pushing, my frustration finally wins and I burst free.
The heat dissipates and the cold night air settles like a blanket on my skin. I kick my blankets to the bottom of my bed and welcome the cold. Lying still, the only movement is from the heaving of my chest and the only sound is a deep inhale and exhale. Over and over again.
The silence is painful. The air isn't cold enough. The space makes me feel lost. Isolated and free at the same time. I don't want the freedom.
I want him.
.
.
.
.
The ride home from school seems longer in his absence. Im alone with my thoughts, again. I could listen to music, I could distract myself somehow, but that would mean transferring my concentration onto something else. My focus was set, the way it had been for the past week, on remembering him. His face, his voice, his arms wrapped around me, his hand on my cheek. All these memories were now at the for-front of my mind. If they weren't, I would risk losing them forever. Self-preservation would win out and I would start to forget, I would start to move on, because that's the healthy thing to do.
But I don't want healthy.
I want him.
I don't have to tell my feet how to work as I walk into the house, im on autopilot, it just happens. I don't feel the heat of coming home as it hits my winter cooled skin, I don't smell the fish that's simmering on the stove, I don't hear my dad whistle to a tune on the radio. I just climb the stairs, step by step, until im finally were I need to be.
My bag drops to the floor with a thud that I barely register as I make my way over to my computer.
No emails.
I check my phone… no calls, no texts, no nothing.
He's practically erased himself from my life.
I need to hear his voice, I need to hear his words and I need to see his face.
I hate myself for deleting all the pictures. I couldn't stand to look at them in the first few days. But now I have nothing, it's like he was never even here.
All I have to remind myself that he was actually real is the pain in my chest. The hollow pain that feels like its letting all the bad stuff in, and all the good stuff out. The hollowness is filled with nothing, just black. There's no anguish, no regret, no rejection, no fury, just black.
My heart is black.
Im going crazy. Thinking about him is making me crazy. But I can't let him go, I don't want that, I never wanted that, I wasn't the one that walked away.
.
.
.
.
I'm falling. Im cold and im falling and there's nothing I can do. Down, down into darkness, into nothing. And I'm screaming. Screaming for someone to hear, for someone to see, for someone to notice the pain and hold me. I want someone to stop me falling, to tell me everything is going to be okay and stop the pain in my chest. But im alone, no one hears.
Im pulled so abruptly into reality that I didn't even realise the transition. It suddenly seems like I was never falling. But I was screaming, im still screaming, and im grabbing so hard onto fabric that seems to keep me fixed in consciousness.
I feel familiar strong arms wrapped tightly around my whole body, and for a second I think it's him. Only when I feel a moustache brush my fore head do I remember where I am. Memories suddenly cloud my vision.
I'm 6 years old and I'm crying. Im on the ground clutching at my barely grazed knee when he envelopes me in his big strong daddy arms. He smells like old fishing tackle and engine fumes but I don't miss the sweet strawberry scent that taints his breath. He pulls me onto his lap and kisses my forehead again and again until I calm.
That tickle of coarse black hair on my clammy fore head is what reminds me that I am safe. He will make it all better. Im not 6 anymore, he can't kiss my cuts all better and give me ice cream. Now im 18 my problems are a little more complex, my pain isn't visible, it's so deep down that no one can reach it, not even me. But he can take the sting away.
I focus on calming my breathing. Slow breaths, in and out, in and out. My heart rate begins to emulate.
He's laid with me in my bed, holding me close, so close I forget what it's like to have ever been apart from him. We're on our sides, facing each other, except I can't see his face. My face is buried deep into his chest and my hands grab, white knuckle tight, at the fabric of his sleep shirt, im not sure if I can let go.
But feeling his arms circle around me, memories come flooding back. Of butterfly kisses and sleepy snuggles and lazy Sundays and freezing cold fishing trips. I realise I don't have to let go.
I haven't felt this in so long. The comfort of a love that's so sure, the one love in the whole world that is unconditional. I hadn't felt this in so long, I had forgotten what it felt like. I needed it, I needed to feel loved, from a love I know would not leave me, ever. How had I gone the past 2 weeks without this, surely it's impossible. He's here, he's here for me now.
He rubs circles on my back as he shushes me back to sleep. The darkness is coming back. But the arms that surround me and the kisses that cool my fore head let me know that I am safe.
.
.
.
.
"Tell me Bells, what happened?"
This is the third night this week Charlie has come to settle me in the night. Like a baby, im suddenly too dependent on him. He wipes away my tears and he holds me like before. He tells me im okay, it's going to be okay, I think the repetition is for him more than me. He's never seen me like this, I honestly think it frightens him, but he's maintaining a calm façade, and it makes me sort of proud, to see how strong he can be.
Maybe I can be like him.
He usually doesn't ask questions, he usually just settles me until im calm enough to sleep again. But tonight it seems he wants an explanation.
I sit up from my hunched position against his chest as he asks again. "Talk to me."
I don't know what to tell him, I don't know what to say.
From my behaviour, you'd expect some huge fight and a dramatic storm out. I would've preferred that to happen.
Fighting means you still want, arguing means you're willing to work through the bad, yelling means still you care. But nothing happened.
Nothing.
He just left.
Not a call or a text, he didn't even come to me to say goodbye. Every night he snook into my bedroom and we slept side by side, he couldn't even come say goodbye, one last time.
Though I suppose, I should've realised the last time we were together. He said nothing about leaving, not even a hint of a whisper. But his actions we're all wrong, his kisses were too urgent and he held me too tight. I knew something was up, I just, I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to acknowledge the uncertainty and ruin the precious moments we had. So I remained silent, I pushed away my worries and lost myself in love, like I always do.
I could never have imagined that that was our last night together. Whatever troubles we had, I didn't think the consequences could ever be that severe. But remembering that night, remembering him and his gentle kisses and his feather light touches, I could feel myself coming undone again. I couldn't stop the fresh tears that rolled down my cheeks now.
I lean back into safety and bury my face in the crook of his neck.
"He left me dad" I manage to get out between sobs.
Charlie sighs, holding my hands in his as he searches his mind for what to say next.
"It won't be like this forever" he finally finds the words.
I want to believe, I try to believe. But I can't remember me without Edward, I can't remember that girl anymore. How can she come back if I can't find her? I don't even know where to look.
But my dad's trying, and I want him to know his words are appreciated, no matter how unrealistic I find them.
"I love you" is all I can say as a lower my head back onto my pillows.
"I love you too baby" he assures me as he kisses the back of my hand he's still holding. And im able to fall back into a realm of dark and unpleasant dreams. Facing reminders of love doesn't seem as scary as I squeeze Charlie's hand and know that im not alone.
.
.
.
.
The hustle and bustle of the cafeteria is too distracting. I can't focus on any of the three conversations going on between my group of friends simultaneously. Im basically a zombie at the table, just sat looking gormless, staring past my food, past my friends, staring past all the kids and out the window into never ending forest. I've been absent from the groups chatter for a good 20 minutes when I finally get caught out.
"Well?" Jessica asks "Hello! Earth to Bella" she teases and the whole table starts to giggle.
Its light hearted and friendly laughter, but its laughter directed me and it stings. I've always managed to avoid being the centre of attention, but now im it for the all the wrong reasons. I don't like their laughter, I want them to stop.
Angela and Ben and Eric stop laughing, they can see im uncomfortable. But Jessica and Lauren and the bitchy members of the group are still making fun of me and I want to cry. I feel so embarrassed. I feel like a little girl who just got pushed in the mud by some big boys and now I can't get up.
I usually ignore their snide remarks and their childish behaviour, but today I just can't. Their words are cutting into me and I don't even want to defend myself, I just want to run away and cry. I want them to stop, but I don't ask them too, I don't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they're bothering me.
I tell myself im just a little sensitive today. I never used to cry, hardly ever, but now even the tiniest thing can set me off. Maybe it's just PMS I tell myself.
'Or maybe it's because im broken' my heart says.
I don't want to think like this, this sort of thinking is bad and I need to hold it together, especially in front of everyone, especially now.
Thankfully Angela saves me and asks me to go to the library with her. The others don't see my teary eyes as we get up and walk away. Angela links her left arm through my right as we walk and she has no idea of the much needed support she's providing me with. She's one of the good ones.
.
.
.
.
For the first time in my life, I don't want to call my mother.
I don't want to tell her about the boy that changed my world and then tore it apart. About how he made me feel complete and I gave him my heart. About how I experienced things with him I've never experienced with anyone. About how he showed me so much about myself and made me see what I was capable of. About how when he left he took everything with him. About how I've lost myself.
She doesn't need to know, she will only worry, and there's nothing she can do.
I have my dad now, he's proving to be more than the doting father, and he can handle my screams and my nightmares and my middle-of-the-night tears. He is helping me feel better and my mother doesn't need to fret. She couldn't handle it like my dad can.
But even he can't make me feel whole again. He can't find Bella before Edward. He can't put me back together again. No one can.
Edward, I love you.
Hey guys, new story. This one isn't as dark as the other one, though at times it will be kinda depressing, but without the bad we cannot truly appreciate the good, so stick with me ;)
So I broke up with my first love, was feeling very New Moon Bella, and this was the result.
I hope someone out there can relate to this story, and how lost Bella is feeling. It would be nice to know I'm not alone.
Please leave me comments, I want to know what you like and don't like about this story, and if its worth me continuing with it. I have some cool ideas though so I hope you do enjoy it.
Thanks for reading :) x
