Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga, nor the song "Paralyzer". Those rights belong to Stephenie Meyer and Finger Eleven.
WARNING: There are going to be some hints of EdwardxRosalie in this fanfiction. But don't worry, it's all cannon pairings! You just have to trust me, alright?
- - - - -
Well, I'm not paralyzed,
But I seem to be struck by you.
I wanna make you move
Because you're standing still.
If your body matches
What your eyes can do,
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you.
-Paralyzer by Finger Eleven
- - - - - -
Edward Cullen's Point of View:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Okay, well, maybe just the worst of times. At least, in my opinion.
...Eccentric.
...Crazy bitch.
...The girl belongs in a mental facility.
...Calling out to aliens in the middle of class? Really?
It was always the worst of times when there was a new student. Usually, the normal babbling of minds at a superficial school like Forks High was manageable. But the kids were quick to judge, and everyone wanted to when there was someone infiltrating their social hive. Especially in the case of this "Isabella Swan."
...Hot. But, damn, is she weird.
...Those bookish clothes makes you think she's going to rip off those glasses and start stripping like they do in those 80's music videos. If only she would stop babbling on about aliens...
...Ugh, she's a total slut!
...That four-eyed freak...
These kids' parents really taught them about creativity, eh? My wry thoughts (and those of others) were disrupted rudely by someone tapping on my shoulder.
"What the-" I turned, only to spot none other than Rosalie Hale, and I was reduced to a stammering mess. "S-sorry, R-Rose!" I managed out, wondering where all my confidence had disappeared to. Ah, yes, Miss Hale. Also known as the most eligible bachelorette slash play girl in Forks. A friend of the family, and also one of the few who knew our secrets. Mostly because the Hales themselves had a few deceptions up their sleeves.
"Heard of the new girl, yet?"
I averted my gaze to my feet, figuring coherent speech might be easier this way. This childhood friend was the only person who could flush my usual arrogance down the drain.
"Can't stop thinking about her." I grumbled in response.
"Oh, could it be Eddie-kins has got a crush?" My sister Alice came bouncing up, all smiles and hyperness. But the urge to strangle her was great at the moment was far to great too note that. She always had to bring my...lacking love-life up.
"Uh, huh, and Hell froze over. I haven't even seen her with my own eyes yet." I snapped, rolling my eyes. Rose gave me a short, twinkling laugh that made any male with testosterone in them go weak at the knees. "Well, I'm off to Spanish. I'll see you two later."
I watched her go like the love-struck puppy I was. Alice laughed, but then froze to cut it off. Her eyes glazed over for an eerie effect, and I acted quickly to catch her before she tumbled to the ground.
In my family, you had to be used to this kind of thing. Look at the family tree of Esme Cullen, and all you got was one psychic after the next. Rarely was there ever a power-dead one, and most specialized in the highest of arts.
My mother in question was an expert on psychokinesis. According to the dictionary, and we all know what a good source of information a bunch of balding old guys and a computer program are, she could "move or deform inanimate objects, as by mental process." As long as they weighed no more than what she could pick up with her hands. Which defeated the purpose, in my opinion. Then again, she could move them as far as she wanted them to go without any effort. So I suppose there are some advantages.
Alice could see snippets and pieces of the future, depending on a person's decisions. The facts that she fainted each time this happened, and she couldn't control when this happened were the only faults in that. Carlisle and Emmett, my father and brother, were both power-dead. Carlisle, because he didn't come from a line of psychics. Emmett, because the gene pool split between us three kids did not work out in his favor. But every notable psychic family had its black sheep and every power had its limits. Except the Volturi. But everyone in the supernatural world preferred not to speak of them.
My particular power was telekinesis. Problem with that was that I heard all the mental voices in my immediate area, and I swore one of these days I was going to go insane.
Alice startled herself out of her daze a moment later, chewing on her lower lip as she rightened her self. A mysterious, smug smile was making itself apparent at a rapid pace.
"Have fun with the new girl." Were her parting words as she dashed off to her next class.
With a sigh of irritation, I made my way toward AP Biology.
- - - - -
"Well, Miss Swan, why don't you come in and and tell us something about yourself." Cue fake smile from the teacher. I stifled a chuckle when it actually happened. I was no Alice, but sometimes people were just too predicable. But even with that amusement to distract me, my mind snapped into focus when Isabella entered the room. As did the minds of all the males who hadn't seen the mysterious beauty yet.
She wore something of a white collared shirt tucked loosely into the folds of a knee-length pencil skirt that displayed a shade of unstimulating brown. With curling mocha hair up in a messy bun and deathly pale skin, she fixed the room with a chocolate, cold glare that seemed to be directed at each individual, yet everyone as a whole, in the vicinity of herself. The librarian-like frames over those lovely orbs only seemed to magnify the effects of it.
I couldn't stand that gaze. But at the same time, I couldn't do anything about it.
Then the new girl's mind grazed the fringes of mine.
Her onslaught of thoughts was designed to be an attack, anyone who heard them would be certain. I saw stars, motor vehicles, newspaper articles, random flashes of color...no image stayed for more than seven milliseconds, and the sequence looped in on itself. Ducks blended with polar bears, which mixed in with a slide show of various cheeses, which was followed by a showering of seashells on a little girl. Blood splattered walls grew tentacles. Nail polish bottles spontaneously combusted before my eyes. Or, at least, it seemed that way.
I rubbed my temples in a vain attempt to stop it all. But it kept coming. Santa Claus riding a donkey. Bright orange diaries covered with ants that were...picking off a human finger that was still holding a page for its master. Toddlers giggling at the sight of their mothers being murdered by Big Bird. A samurai gazing hopelessly at his sword, glazed with spicy mustard.
What was this crap?!
It all halted abruptly, and I was dropped back into my own word with a cry.
The teacher gave me a look of severe annoyance, and Isabella Swan's gaze fell on me. No mistaking it, because her eyes met mine and a brief flash of a rusted bullet racing toward me consumed my mind before she put a cap on it.
I was certain she was the source of that lovely montage.
She seemed almost surprised when I matched her glare with one of my own, but whatever caused that made it disappear in favor of untampered excitement. Then the teacher repeated his earlier question in another attempt to make her introduce herself. Isabella nodded once, determined, and began her speech.
"Hello. You have my permission to call me 'Bella-'" Conceited, aren't we? "-and I am sure we are probably not going to get along. I have no interest in you if all you care about is when Abercrombie is releasing their newest line, and if your bracelet compliments your eyes." Wasn't that, um, everyone? "I am not a friendly person. I hate human interaction. And my impression of this school is a word that begins with a B. I doubt Mr. James would appreciate my vocalizing of this, so I shall refrain from doing so. Thank you for your time."
She added one last comment. No one listened. No one heard.
But me.
And if there are any mind readers, or anything of the supernatural sort in this room, please contact me at your earliest convenience. Yes, I mean you, carrot-top.
I reached up to make sure my hair was still that same copper-wire orange.
Well, shit.
Author's Note: Hiyas peoples! I wanted to sort of make a spunky, no-shit version of Bella. And since sometimes (admittedly) I mentally call out to the mind readers of the world, I got the idea for this. I'd really like your opinion (preferably in a review XD) about whether this story should get trashed or not! Please?
Oh! And don't worry about the EdxR thing. This is going to turn out all cannon pairings! I just need that for the plot!