Summary: Nessie Cullen is a medium; she can communicate with the dead. She joins Jacob and his small group of paranormal investigators in hopes of finding proof that what she experiences on a day to day basis is real. AU/AH. Rated M for language and violence.
A/N: Hi there! Welcome to a new short story. I'm not sure when I'm going to be able to update this story, but I will do my best to make it semi-regularly. Please forgive me if it takes a while, though. The next part will be up next week, and after that I don't have anything written. I'm excited about this, though, and I hope you give it a chance!
As usual, I don't own any recognizable characters. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just own the plot and a few original characters spaced throughout :)
Enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Medium
Medium - noun; a person supposedly used as a spiritual intermediary between the dead and the living.
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Prologue
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I watched silently as Jacob crossed the grass and sat next to me on the bench. He looked around for a moment, then turned his still-handsome face to the clear, blue sky. The birds sang happily and flew around, flirting with each other in the early spring air. He sighed deeply and looked down at the flowers in his hand. I knew they were for me. I wondered briefly how long it would take him to give them to me this time.
I knew he wasn't happy. It made me sad each time I saw his face, worn and weathered from years and stress. He didn't sleep well. He'd told me that often; he had nightmares that kept him awake. I couldn't blame him. For any of it, really. Nothing that had happened was his fault, no matter how hard he tried to take responsibility.
I reached over and touched his arm. The light jacket he was wearing wouldn't block my touch. He shivered, but otherwise didn't acknowledge me. I moved a little closer and thought about saying something. He wouldn't hear me even if I did. I tried to lay my head on his shoulder. He shivered again and stood up.
"I'm sorry, Ness," he said simply. He didn't move to leave; he just stood there.
I didn't try to touch him again. I'd wondered often if he even knew I was here. He wasn't as sensitive to these things as I had been. I thought about the past and everything that had led us to this point as I watched him stare at my grave.
My name is Nessie Cullen. This is the story of how I died.
