I know, I know. I'm an awful person who should be finishing my long-due-for-an-update story. But I can't seem to draw the inspiration to write more and instead I spend my time writing stories like this one during the few hours a day I have free.
So, I just figured instead of leaving you guys with nothing for a long time I'd share one of my favorites of the stories I've written so far; and I know, I'm guilty of actually writing a Twilight story, but I actually liked the idea behind the books just not the way it was written.
(I'm sorry in advance for any nitpicking I do while writing this.)
Also, I have a few other stories I've written in my free time that I enjoy and if this does well enough I might post some more. Add some spice and variety to my small story selection and all that jazz.
Enjoy :)
Disclaimer - I own a whole lot of zero, nothing, and nada
If I was a poetic person, I'd say that I got into the messed up situation because life was a long twisting road full of potholes and hidden dangers and you never knew what was around the next turn.
But I wasn't.
I'd never really been much of a fan of poetry. Instead, I could only think of five eloquent words to explain the sudden unexpected situation I was in.
I have no fucking idea.
Because waking up in a unknown bed, in an unknown house, wasn't something that had ever happened to me - I'd been a sad boring excuse for a teenager and college student.
The last thing I remembered was dying; and there was no doubt I should have been dead. I'd fallen of the side of a cliff when hiking out in the woods during a camping trip. There wasn't much wriggle room for survival when you fell from a cliff more than twenty stories tall.
So, maybe this was my afterlife?
I looked around the small room and frowned, being very disappointed at what I saw.
Now look, I have no issues with dying - even if it was a lot more sudden and splatter related then I thought it would be - but what I did have a problem with is my afterlife being set in a stereotypical teenage girls room.
(I mean, it beat fire and brimstone by a long shot but still, I'd never been enough of a girly girl to enjoy this kind of decoration. Give me heaven or give me hell, don't keep me in eternal suspense.)
If this was my afterlife, I was incredibly unimpressed. Waking up in a teenage girls room wasn't my idea of a stellar start to death. Or was it un-life now, since I was still technically kicking?
The rooms coral pink walls were covered in posters that had teen boy bands and what I could only describe as 'fuckboys' on them. There was a large desk with makeup and beauty supplies scattered across it. And a rather - if I was being honest - impressive bed in the center of the room, that looked soft and fluffy with an absurd amount of pillows on it - I'd always been a sucker for pillows, but come on, they're just so soft and fluffy.
(The extravagant king size bed made up for the poor taste in decoration.)
While looking the room over, I caught a glimpse of my reflection which threw up some big shiny and obnoxiously bright red flags. Because that motherfucker in the mirror was not me.
Motherfucker, though, was a crude and completely inaccurate way to describe the delicate girl shown in it.
Small and petite, she couldn't be taller than 5'' and weigh more than 105 pounds when wet. She had long thick hair that was auburn, full cupid bow lips that had a striking dark red lipstick painted on, eyes that where a surprisingly bright shade of blue - with thick dark eyelashes and an absurd amount of eyeshadow and eyeliner around them - and her slightly tanned skin covered in concealer and an obvious blush..
She looked just a step above a teenager discovering how to use makeup for the first time, like she was only just starting to get the hang of it.
Her clothes where... dark.
Black ripped skinny jeans encased the girls thin legs while a black lace corset like tank top with a thin spider web themed shawl over it covered her small torso. Even her socks were black.
Well then...
It wasn't bad-looking to be fair, but one odd pet peeve I'd always had was, that I hated wearing all the same color. To me it looked like I was wearing a huge onesie. Besides, I'd always been a pants, t-shirt, and hoodie person. Simple, easy, and comfy.
Why was I in this dark clothed, dark makeup, and very emotional and personality conflicted - going off the clashing room decoration and outfit choice - girl? Had I just possessed her body Orochimaru style?
That was a bit worrying. But was even worse was when I saw the calendar hanging on one of the two doors of the room.
Because it was so not that right date.
So not had I only emulated the actions of a crazed insane snake ninja but I'd also decided that time travel was needed.
Okay, deep breaths, at least I'm still alive so there was some silver lining to this. Even if I'm an awful horrible person who stole some socially confused teen's body. But I didn't mean so that makes it better right? No, no, I can't think like that. Just because I didn't mean to doesn't mean I'm excused from what my body-stealing soul did.
I'd only been standing there for a minute or two - it hadn't taken much time to look myself over, notice it wasn't my body, examine my new face and clothes, notice the date, and then overcome a mini-panic attack/identity crisis - when an odd feeling overcame me.
It was like my skin was to tight, something was pressing on me and my panic - that I'd barely managed to just suppress seconds ago - came back full force along with the need to just go hide somewhere safe and think things through.
And then all my clothes where suddenly bursting from my new body and falling to the carpeted floor in tattered shreds.
"What the fuck is going on!?"
Here I was, naked, standing alone in what I suppose was my room now. Which wasn't to odd, because nakedness was a common thing that happened in bedrooms, but what wasn't common was people's clothes suddenly ejecting the fuck off of them.
I went to take a step forward and nearly fell when I noticed my feet where hovering a bit above ground, which threw my balance off and nearly sent me on my new booty.
I was like a wobbly newborn deer as I stumbled and tripped over to the stable safety of the bed. And for a second there was a moment of relief because I could lean on that magnificent fluffy surface as I tried to figure out the surprise shit storm my life had sudden become, but then, of course, that relief was immediately ripped away, torn to pieces, and scattered among the tattered shreds of my used to be clothes.
I couldn't touch the bed.
No matter how much I tried I was always hovering just slightly over everything. Anything I tried to touch moved or compressed under my attempts of touching it and I quickly learned that if I put too much pressure the object would creak warningly even though I didn't feel much resistance.
I barely managed to stop myself from cracking the head-board when the wood let out a loud crack under my hand's invisible-shield-thing.
Pulling away I wobbled dangerously where I stood. If I fell, would I go crashing through the floor?
Cautiously, I lowered my body, making sure to never place too much pressure on either my hands or feet. The floor didn't creek though and besides the depression of the carpet under me there was no sign of anything giving under me.
Sitting - or was it hovering? - on the floor I tried to calm down my furiously pounding heart.
I was so happy I wasn't a screamer or a flailing panicker because this room would be destroyed and there would most likely be some random stranger running to the room to witness my naked shame and muppet-like flailing noodle arms.
Slowly my heart slowed as I calmed down and as it did I immediately noticed my body sinking to the floor. I wasn't floating above it very high, but the small distance was very noticeable with my current hyper-aware focus on it.
The more I relaxed the lower I sank, and soon my bare cheeks and legs were against the soft carpet of the floor.
...Well, at least the carpet was soft...
Slowly standing up I was relieved to feel my feet touch the carpet and my hands compress the - I knew it! - marshmallow soft mattress of the bed. You never know how nice it is to touch things until an invisible shield burst from you - destroying your clothes in the process - and you can't touch anything.
I'm sure that was something tons of people can relate to.
Okay, so inviso-shield is activated through panic it seemed. Nice to know, I could so not stop feeling that so that was just dandy. Dear god, the body I was in looked like a teen. Was a teen now? A teen that went to school?
Oh god, school, I'd escaped from that place so long ago, I'd already taken my lumps. And now I might have to go there? With the possibility that if I felt panic my clothes would come bursting off of me while I was standing in front of a bunch of judgy hormone riddled teens?
What was this? Life on hard mode? I don't need this bullshit.
Anxiety bubbled up - another pretty way of saying soul crushing panic - and again my skin felt tight. My hands clenched as I tried to hold it back.
But there wasn't anything to really hold back, it was a feeling not a physical thing.
My hands clenched into tighter fist and I bit the inside of my mouth, teeth pushing into the soft flesh of my cheeks as I tried to focus on anything else.
My mom used to tell me to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth when I felt sick. A way to take your mind off the urge to puke, and I began the familiar breathing technique.
For a few seconds I felt the softness of the mattress under my hands disappear but moments later the bed covers rose from under the invisible shield and touched and brushed against my hands.
The tightness went away from my body and I felt marginably calmer. Okay, so there was a way to fight it.
But as the last of the tight feeling on my body slipped away I noticed the sharp sting of pain in my mouth and hands.
The taste of copper covered my tongue as the ripped flesh inside of my mouth slowly bled. Warm blood also oozed out from small crescent cuts that my manicured and black painted nails had made in my palms.
Wincing, I reluctantly swallowed the the small amount of blood - unable to see a trashcan in the room and unwilling to venture out just yet - while running my tongue gently over the tears. For my hands, I grabbed one of the ripped shreds of cloth on the floor and used it to gently pat away the blood.
When the bleeding stopped, surprisingly early, I gathered up the rest of shreds of cloth and used my age-old method - tried and true - of hiding things in my room, shoving them all under my bed. Once that mess was hidden, I walked over to one of the doors and peeked out.
Only to quickly close it when I saw it led out into a nicely lit hallway.
Checking the other I found it to be a decently sized closet full of clothes. They were all separated by fashion style and color - with more care than I'd ever put into organizing my clothes - going from pink and trendy to black and punk.
It took some searching but I managed to find a pair of simple blue jeans, a green t-shirt, and black hoodie.
But I didn't put them on right away. I didn't want a surprise noise or sudden spook to end up with them ripping of me.
Sitting on the bed - and feeling very uncomfortable with being just naked in unknown room - I again brought myself into a panic. Which wasn't hard, I just had to think about the current situation I was in.
A few seconds later and again the tight feeling reappeared.
Unlike last time it took me a few more seconds to rein it in.
Maybe clenching my fist and biting my cheeks had helped me last time? I'd only did the breathing exercise this time.
I again worked myself into a hot panicked mess but this time I did my breathing exercise while tapping my thumb against each finger.
It wasn't instant but it did make the tight feeling disappear faster. It was better than ripping the gum on my cheeks apart or digging my nails into my palms until they bled. Maybe I just needed practice or a better distraction/calming technique?
A practiced a few more times and while I didn't exactly make the shield or feeling disappear any faster I did feel more secure in stopping it from completely happening. I wasn't about to stress test my method with a jump scare or anything but I had a bit confidence in putting on some clothes now.
I'd never been more aware of how tight my clothes where while I put on these new ones. Tightness only meant less give until they ripped and these jeans could put some skinny jeans to shame they way they hugged me - I was honestly jealous of this bodies figure while inhabiting said body.
Leaving the room I found myself in the hallway. It was decorated in a desert themed way, with tan walls that had a rough texture to the paint and a few cactuses in pots or on top of a wooden desk.
Outside the large window of the hallway I could see that it looked like a crushingly hot day, with no clouds in the sky.
The few plants I could see in this houses backyard where growing on a hard dirt cracked ground and looked more hardy than lush and lively.
Was I actually living in a desert? I'd only ever lived in places with plenty of water and plants. The desert was a hard change from living in the mountains surrounded by forest and farms.
But the house was surprisingly cool and not dry which was nice.
Walking along I checked each door I passed by, peaking in. I found two bedrooms - one was a master bedroom that was cluttered with things while the other may have been a teens room but was decorated in an 'adult' like way. Or as some would call it minimalistic style - I personally prefer bone bare style.
There was also a large bathroom that thankfully was empty.
Walking down the steps I headed towards an open doorway of where the kitchen was. People usually left a lot of informational heavy stuff on their fridges. Report cards and pictures hung by proud mama's and papa's, reminders, grocery list, bills, and other things that I might be able to read and figure out who or where I was.
The kitchen was small but tidy, and the two door fridge stuck out.
Eagerly, I walked over and began to read the multitude of papers trapped under colorful magnets on it.
Most where reminders for people named Renée and Hannah Swan. The name Renée Swan was a bit unfortunate for the woman, I was betting. She must have gotten tons of people commenting about her name during the Twilight fiasco, though remembering the date that might not have happened yet.
I do not remember at all when the books and movie became popular. Just the general feeling of not caring about it all. Though I had read all the books.
The first one had been passable, maybe a bit unhealthy relationship wise of just how reliant Bella was with Edward, but no relationship was perfect, the second had been a bit of a chore to read, I'd never been a fan of angst or drama and I'd had to skip and skim parts of the book; uninterested in reading Bella's awful behavior. The last one though, whoo, had that been weird. Alien chestburster style babies, creepy imprinting that boiled down to Jacob grooming a child - that would reach adulthood in a few years - to date him later when it grew up - because you can argue all you want but you have to admit Jacob was most likely, sooner or later, going to date the child he helped raise - and some fake mock battle that didn't actually happen.
Pushing those thoughts away I read more papers. Oddly enough there was a medical report for one Bella Swan on the fridge - something about cutting her arm due to blunt force - with a few others medical reports under it. All of them had injuries of someone that was accident prone would get on them and with each new piece of information discovered I was beginning to panic again.
My skin was tight and I looked away from the fridge and leaned against the counter while I tried to calm myself.
It took a bit longer this time because, holly fuck! Dying and waking up in a new body with mysterious clothe ripping powers was one thing, but being related to a Bella Swan was a whole other can of worms.
When you cheat death, apparently, you're a lot more prone into humoring ridiculous situations, only this one wasn't really funny. I didn't want to deal with the world of Twilight. It was a teen romance novel full of sparkly - and sometimes deadly - vampires and anger prone shifter wolves who refused to wear shirts.
I didn't need this shit, I could barely keep my clothes from bursting off me, how was I supposed to handle that shit?!
But maybe I was just overreacting and these two people had unfortunate choices of names that will make them curse the Twilight series.
With comedic timing - because my life now must be one big cosmic joke - a teen girl entered the kitchen.
"Hannah? What's wrong?" She looked worried, staring down at me with large doe brown eyes. Her long brown hair framing her pretty face.
"Isabella?" I said slowly, warily looking at her like she was some great looming beast about to bite me.
Her cupid bow lips tilted down into a frown, "You know I hate being called that, it's Bella."
She wasn't exactly identical to Kristen Stewart but she was still a shoo in for Isabella Swan's description in the book.
With doe brown eyes, brown hair, a pretty face, 5'4'' height, slight body build, and exact same name she could be - and terrifyingly might be - the actually Isabella Swan.
My skin felt tight and my shock and denial made my reaction time too slow to stop it right away. By the time I'd managed to gain control again the sound of cloth tearing had already filled the room.
"What was that?" Bella asked.
I stared straight ahead, not making eye contact. "Nothing." I said in a tight voice. Because it so wasn't my tight pants tearing over my butt in a embarrassing way. Now why would you ever think a crazy thing like that?
Leaning back on the counter, I gave the girl a strained smile. "I'm just hunky dory over here."
"Okay?" Bella said slowly.
"Yep." I said refusing to move from my spot until it was safe.
Bella stood there a few more seconds before slowly backing out of the room, giving me weirded out look as she went.
When she was gone I crab walked my way back upstairs and to the room I'd woken up in, keeping my back to the wall. I even passed a confused looking Bella who I gave a tight smile too as I slid past her.
Once the door was closed behind me I walked over to the fluffy bed - my only friend in this world so far - and fell face first onto it, burying my face into one of the pillows and letting out a groan of frustration.
I was well and royally screwed.
Slipping into the role of Hannah Swan was surprisingly easy.
Classes were simple and much less stressful than college had been with only the downfall of less freedom, teenagers, poor food, and Hannah's 'friends'.
I use the term friend loosely though, because these teens could care less about Hannah and seemed to be wary of talking with me because I didn't put on any makeup - besides chapstick. But could chapstick be considered makeup? - and wore unpopular clothing.
I'd already had to sacrifice my hoodie due to the horrible weather here, I wasn't willing to part with my t-shirt or pants yet and it had taken ten minutes of searching to discover the pair of sneakers I now wore buried behind rows of high heels and wedges.
I don't blame the teens for trying to distance themselves from the new Hannah - me - because I wasn't Hannah and they weren't really my friends. I wasn't the person they were used to and I never would be.
I had a different personality, sense of style, and habits.
Hannah's teachers enjoyed the change though. The High School classes I'd had were easy. Sure I had to refresh my memory on some of the details but mostly I'd managed to pass everything with ease, and most classes I brought home A's or B's - because I'm willing to cheat hardcore after suffering through learning this crap the first time around; if already going through this once in another life is considered cheating that is.
Home life was a bit more difficult though. Renee was certainly something. She was scattered brained and had a tendency to disappear with her boyfriend Phil for stretches of time.
(And yes, I was still trying to work my way through the roller coaster of emotions that came with realizing you were in a teen romance novel - or was it movie in this case? - but I have to say I'd gotten pretty good at controlling my clothe ripping shield due to this.)
Renee wasn't exactly present enough or aware enough of her surroundings to realize the differences in Hannah - her fricken daughter - but I'd experienced worse parents in my past life and she wasn't even in the top ten.
No, the worst person I had to deal with by far was Bella. I'd forgotten just how nosey that motherfucker could be. But she was someone who'd met a family of strangers and then felt the need to insert herself into their lives while demanding they tell her their biggest secret. Honestly, I'd cringed while reading just how demanding she was. It be like going up to a stranger and demanding they tell you a life changing secret about them and then continually harassing and looking up information on them when they didn't.
Girl's got some nerve.
And that girl was now on my case. Some people might think it was cute that she was so determined to be a part of her sisters life and yes, I understood why she might feel the need to get answers about her very different sister, but that didn't mean I liked it.
She was always there when I was home. Hovering around me when I was outside of my room, not giving me space and watching me like a hawk; like staring and vigilance would make me fess up as to why I was acting so different.
She'd questioned me about it a few times and I'd given her some bullshit answer about deciding to be myself and when she'd continued to push I'd pretended to crack and admit that I'd heard my so called friends talk about me behind my back - which really wouldn't be so shocking if they had - and it made me think over everything.
She was reluctant to back off but after a month or so of me repeating my story, and stony silence to any other questions, she gave in and left it alone; reluctantly. Besides, her not focusing on me left her more time to neorotically stress over particularly difficult homework and tests, which she was prone to doing.
Not only that but she was also pretty controlling around the house; a by product of scatterbrain Renée. She felt the need to keep schedules of all of our activities throughout the week and had a tendency to make every meal and clean up before you got the chance to.
I tried helping but it only seemed to stress her out more. I have no idea how bad Hannah's cooking had been but it couldn't have been bad enough to warrant Bella hovering over me as I made scrambled eggs.
Other than that though, Bella and I lived in a peaceful existence for siblings. She was a pretty montone person and her emotions were not very noticable on her almost always blank face - besides her very telling array of blushes. She did have her snarky moment though.
The only break in that behavior I saw was when Renee brought up visiting Charlie this year at Forks. Something he called about every year apparently. That was when I realized this version of Bella was the overjoyed happy Bella because she turned into the most angst riddled teen I'd ever laid eyes on at the mention of rainy Forks.
Her depressing auror rolled of her in waves and she moped around the house for days at the very idea of having to go and stay with 'Charlie'.
The strong response to Forks had me baffled. Why did she hate going there so much? That drama filled response couldn't just be the results of hating rain could it?
But there was no simple answer and for the past couple days she'd been the poster child of a moping angst filled teenager; you could lower your mood just by standing near her.
But I, unlike her, was actually interested in going.
Not because of the people though, it was because the idea of a rainy place full of trees sounded lovely.
I'd learned I was not a desert person.
I didn't do well with water restrictions, being constantly thirsty, heat, dry skin, blazing sun, and wearing the least amount of clothing possible.
I hated the heat, loathed it. I wasn't a huge fan of the cold either but I'd take a winter day over a sweltering hot summer day any time.
I'd also missed the forest I'd grown up around. Any green tree with leaves would be welcome after seeing only prickly cactus and tumbleweeds for the past couple of months.
So with only a little wariness, I said I'd go to visit Charlie.
"You're sure about this?" Renee asked for the twentieth time.
"Yes." I told her again, standing at the edge of the security check. The no-turning-back-from-here point in the air terminal.
Bella stood beside Renee, looking just as angst and worried filled as usual. The girl had nearly had some stress fit when I said I was visiting Charlie, spending hours trying to talk me out of it.
Her biggest point had been not knowing Charlie that well anymore and being so far away from them. It was nice knowing she cared - even if it was all for Hannah's sake - but I found it hard living with these two and pretending to be their loving sister and daughter.
I didn't want to spend this whole life pretending to be Hannah for them. I was guilty for her disappearing - even if she never existed in the real Twilight - and I'd always feel the burden for that, but I couldn't fake loving them forever.
Maybe over time I could, but it wouldn't be fair to them to trick them like that. And telling them the truth was impossible because I refused to do so. I'm not going to pretend I care about them believing me or not or the possible effects it would have on this world - because me being here was already going to change things - I'm being truthful when I say the only reason why I wouldn't tell them was the selfish reason of not wanting to.
I just didn't want to deal with it.
So instead I was going to leave them because faking loving them was already hard enough. I mentally flinched each time I saw hurt cross their features when I didn't share in reminiscing about a memory or when I forgot something important or didn't act as loving as they thought I should.
Charlie didn't know current Hannah and wouldn't be thrown off by her behavior and maybe next time I met Bella and Renee they wouldn't be either. Time changes people, after all.
"I got to go now mom, love you." God, it was weird saying the word mom. My own mom had died years ago and calling some new woman that was just so odd to me.
Renee's eyes teared up as a stifled sob left her. "Oh," she pulled me into a crushing hug, "I love you too, sweetie."
After a full minute of hugging me she pulled back and Bella was there, awkwardly hugging me as she patted my back.
"Be safe." She said, blushing from the show of caring.
"I will." I said, moving away from the blushing teen and crying woman.
"As much as I can be in Forks." I muttered under my breath as I joined the soul crushingly long line at the security check.