My Nedward
(A My Immortal/Twilight Fanfic)
I can barely remember the first time I saw him because my mind just went blank. I was wearing my plain pale pink tee shirt over my small and homely breasts, brown corduroy pants modestly covered my skinny legs, and I was wearing my worn-out black shoes. My limp dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. I felt tall and awkward in his presence, even though his bony frame towered over me.
"Hi," I mumbled meekly to his feet. "I'm Annabelle. With an E."
He hesitated. I mentally berated myself for adding the "with an E" part.
"Hey." He replied sexily.
I felt a thrill go through my body. I grinned but quickly turned that frown right side up because I was self-conscious of my snaggle-tooth. I put my hand behind my back and rubbed it up and down my other elbow and blinked up at his blindingly beautiful form.
Nedward was surely a descendent of a Greek god. He had dark golden hair that shimmered in the sunlight and glittered in the moonlight (I would find this out later). He had a dazzlingly bright smile that forced you to smile too. His luscious ruddy lips were filled with strong, white, straight teeth. His pale skin was like a vampire's, but with an adorable smattering of light blond freckles.
But most importantly were his eyes. Glacial blue, yet soft and reflective. I was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I couldn't look away from the polished opals underneath his eyelids, framed by blond lashes that caught rays of sunlight. I think a friend tried to catch my attention, but I couldn't look her way.
I was jerked out of my dream by my best friend Rosalice. She shoved three textbooks into my arms.
"You dropped these," she rolled her olive green eyes at me. I stared after Nedward longfully, again hating myself for looking so stupid in front of the cutest boy in school. I had just moved to this new, small town in a really lame state, Minnesota. On the drive here all I saw was corn. Apparently, that was all they had here: corn, corn, corn. I never wanted to see corn again. Except one certain boy's ear of corn.
I met a couple of nice people during my first few days at the high school. There was Frasper and Jaspank, a pair of goofy identical twins. We first started talking because we had one thing in common, our Alaskan heritage. Eskimos aren't very common in the Midwest, so we became fast friends. They seemed overly competitive though, seemingly over me. I don't know why, because I was so plain. I tried not to give them any false ideas, and had to hang out with them less. But this would prove to be a problem, as I later found out that they were best friends with Nedward.
Rosalice smiled. She was beautiful. I wanted to be just like her: she was all beachy blond hair; eyes the color of sea foam; perky, swollen breasts like ripe cantaloupes; a flat stomach, and a belly-button piercing (which I had been begging my parents for for so long); and mile-long, tanned legs.
I was a self-professed bookworm, which surely no one would find sexy, and especially not Nedward. My skin was alabaster from lack of sunlight; you could see my purplish veins through it in some areas, and bruised showed up easily. My hair was too thick to do anything with, and my body was boyish and straight.
"Let's go home," Rosalice said in her beautiful sing-song voice.
"Yeah, let's," I said distractedly. We mounted our bikes and rode them to Maple Street, where she lived on her farm. It was two miles from school. My house was another mile. I waved as she jumped gracefully off her bike and walked inside.
As I continued to pedal past rows of corn and wheat, I thought about how to seduce Nedward. Everything I had seen in movies wouldn't work on him—I had nary a jiggling thigh to reveal with a highly slitted skirt, nor cleavage to spill overtop a plunging neckline. I couldn't carry a note like a songbird, dance like Rihanna, or glide my fingers over elephant-tusk piano keys. Everyone had always told me I was a talented poet, but it would just seem silly to write him a love sonnet.
I pulled open my garage door in time to realize what I had to do. As a thing of beauty, Nedward would only appreciate one of his kind. I had to become beautiful.
I remember faint flashes of this moment. Headlights glared in my face. The tractor roared ferociously. Its enormous tires ground their teeth over the garage floor, catching my stray and terrified foot in the process. I passed out from fright.
As I was told in the hospital, Jaspank and Frasper had worked together to shut the tractor down and push it off of me. I woke up hazily, and didn't feel hurt.
"Why did they put me in the hospital?" I asked to no one in particular.
"Just to make sure you're okay," came the reply. This person offered me a snowcone.
I was flattered at the traditional Eskimo show of love, but the Jaspank's advances towards me were too forward. Jaspank was generally more aggressive anyway, while Frasper was the mellow twin.
Feeling weirded out, I left the hospital in my gown and started on my way home again. As I passed Rosalice's house, she happened to be watering her plants. She looked horrified and brought me inside.
"Annabelle! Why are you walking around like that, with your back all bare to the world?" She demanded of me while pulling out some boxes from shelves.
"I opened my garage to a rogue tractor. Someone left it on and the movement from the garage opening forced it to roll onto me. The Alaskan twins were luckily there to save me, but I'm not sure I want their help anymore. Jaspank's flirting is going too far. What are you doing, anyway?" I asked curiously.
"I saw the way you looked at that…what's his name? Whatever. Anyway, if you want a boy to like you, you have to change the way you look." Rosalice stared at my plain face and saw it as a blank canvas.
"It's NEDWARD! Don't you forget it," I said huffily.
After many minutes of applying eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, and blush, she turned me around in my chair, but wouldn't let me look in the mirror. She rummaged through her closet and threw a couple of articles of skimpy clothing at my obeying lap. She closed the door and let me change.
The first thing was a bustier that pushed my boobs up and made them look three sizes bigger than they really were. My waist was accentuated by the curving whale bone, but my hips did not fill the bottom part. Secondly, I had to wear a thong that felt like my butt was experiencing flossing at the dentist, or a chronic wedgie. There was barely any material: it was mostly netting and lace. I didn't see the point of fancy underwear if no one would see it. On top of that, I wore tiny denim shorts with multiple rips in them. Five-inch stilettos adorned my awkward feet.
I felt odd and not myself. I was wobbly in the uncomfortable and revealing clothing and high heels. Rosalice came in again to work on my hair. She let it out and ran product through her hands, spreading it in my hair. She looked turned me around to the mirror.
The heavily-painted face in the mirror had a gaping, bright red hole in the center. My expression of shock was not uncalled for, but Rosalice obviously thought her work was beautiful; I looked more like a streetwalker than anything. Not sure of my confidence, but determined to make an impression on somebody, I biked to town with Rosalice.
We were trying to figure out what kinds of candy to buy when a deep, comforting voice sounded behind us. A boy trying to pick up Rosalice, no doubt, I thought in regret. We both turned around with a shock.
"Hey," Nedward smiled his easy, big smile.
I began to stutter, but Rosalice answered for me. "Hey," she said smoothly. She knew how to talk sexy.
Then I realized, to my embarrassment, that she was not answering for me, but herself. I felt a twinge of anger at Rosalice. She could get any boy she wanted, but she had to steal mine? This was just unfair. I felt my raccoon-decorated eyes start to water up with frustration. This would not help Nedward like me. He didn't even pay attention to me when Rosalice had given me a makeover.
I started to run home, crying. A friendly hand grabbed my shoulder. I looked back hopefully, but it was the wrong boy. Frasper was offering his comforting presence.
"Thanks, Frasper," I sniffed while letting him hold me in his arms. I didn't want to lead him on, but I needed someone to hold me.
Frasper leaned closer and nudged a lock of dark hair behind my ear with his nose. I felt his warm breath on the back of my head and the hairs on my nape started to raise in alarm.
"No, no," I pushed him away. "I'm sorry, Frasper, this just isn't going to work out."
Frasper looked sincerely hurt. "It's him, isn't it?" he narrowed his eyes accusingly. "I've seen the way you look at him." He turned away, and I was now genuinely alone.
"Annabelle, what have you done?" I deplored myself. Rosalice had abandoned me for the boy I wanted for my own, and I rejected two boys that would take me. I felt helpless.
At home, I sat in my room. My days started to blur. I couldn't sleep, and if I did, my eyes were open. I didn't change clothes: there was no point. I simply read my books and wrote sad poems in my journal. I started eating junk food all the time, sat in front of the computer, played Gameboy or sewed fursuits.
One gloomy day I signed on to IRC at Fur Affinity. I was helping a friend from my guild with some sewing tips for her next con when I received a message from a strange male furry. Even though his picture showed him in his fursuit, I knew he was hot. His fursuit was hot, and I was looking for something to help me out of my deep pit of depression.
We talked for a long time. He brought up pokemon. I told him I was very good at it, having played since childhood. He needed help with a battle since he didn't know how to get past a certain glitch; I had done this a million and one times. This was the perfect boy for me!
He started to tell me that we needed to meet. He said he went to my school. I became alarmed, and typed faster. What if this was a hoax? I decided I needed this interaction, and snuck out that night without telling my parents.
I arrived in the alleyway that we had arranged to meet. I stood around nervously. A trash can lid fell off the can with a raucous clatter; I flinched. I heard a flick and saw a sharp flash in the dim light of a nearby streetlight.
A knife was at my throat. I trembled with fear and my hands grew clammier and sweatier than they normally were. My knees wobbled and sweat dripped down my back.
"Pull down your pants, lady," a gruff voice growled.
I obliged while violently shaking. Since I had not changed clothes I was still wearing the promiscuous and skimpy clothing Rosalice had given to me. I heard the clanking of a belt being unbuckled, low chuckling under a sour breath, and finally urgent unzipping and fumbling.
I was panting heavily with fear. The strong man kicked me to my knees with a rough shove. I felt him grab my bony sides with an unrelenting grip. He slowly bent down to thrust himself violently into my white, innocent lily flower. As I heard him grunt, two things happened.
First, I cringed and whimpered. I was sobbing by now. Second, I was no longer even on the ground.
I was on the back of a strong and fast-paced person who was carrying me away. My thoughts were dizzying and I wondered if I was being taken away to get raped by another person. I fainted at the horrible thought. It would be better if I was asleep when it happened.
But it never did happen. I awoke in the dim sunrise to my favorite grin and sparkling azure eyes.