Caresses Of An Empty Heart
A/n : Major psychological stress and angst. Let's go for a ride shall we? Rated M for Star Gazing. I do not own Twilight or any characters of the story. They belong to SM.
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Your whispers echo off the walls
And you can hear my distant calls
The voice of who I used to be
Screaming out "someone, someone please".
She decided it's a pretty sky.
The stars seemed to be twinkling a lot, and she also decided that it was in support of her decision to leave him. But she looked at the moon, looking particularly cozy with a star, and another star not so far away, feeling left out, and she needed to look away.
Then she decided they were mocking her.
Crazy laugh bubbled and died in her throat, taking the form of tears. She was laughing, she was crying. And then she started singing. 'So what,' she thought, 'if the words sounded prettier in a certain boy's voice? He doesn't own the song.' And she started singing at the top of her lungs, her arms flailing around as if she didn't have a care in the world.
Isabella Marie Swan had the river in front of her, the highway lay behind. Her monster of a truck , that she pretended to love much like everything else in her life, stood quiet and ominous a few feet on the grassy bank of the said river. She would be fine, she always was. She always landed on her feet, and no auburn haired – green eyed brat could change that. Not even Edward Cullen. She just needed a minute.
She was still singing, laughing loudly now.
"Come Josephine , in my flying machine…." . Warm honey rubbed on cold ,cold skin.
The memory took Bella by surprise. The song came to her lips , never went past them. The perfect voice, the pretty face. Some people really do have everything , don't they?
Seems like Karma ain't such a bitch with a little persuasion .
Bella was staring straight ahead, onto the other side of the river. Blank face, weary eyes. She did lose a rather tiring game of tug of war. But to be true, the game never was fair, was it? It was always her against the the two of them. Even if you do remove Irina, the day she lasted against Edward Cullen would be declared a national holiday.
All it ever took was broken kisses, whispered love and screamed out threats. All it took was a look, a touch ,a smile. All it took was him to be ready to lend a fragment of him to her for a little while, only to rip it away from her when she grew close to it.
Love screamed at him to stop, but he couldn't listen, because he had smothered love with mindless sex and endless addictions. She screamed that he was hurting him, stated it, proved it, whispered it. He shoved cotton in his ears. What was she supposed to do?
What hurt more? Leaving or pinpricks-like-hammer on an already breaking heart?
She left.