Ash and Memories

"You're beautiful."

A dark whisper against my neck.

Fingertips trailing on my thigh.

Caressing.

Ghosting between my legs.

I kick out.

A hand clamps over my lips to muffle my screams.

I'm thrashing the darkness.

Pain at the back of my head, blocking out the fluorescent lights in my eyes.

Something warm and sticky drips down my neck.

I already know what it is.

Blood.

My blood.

xxx

I jerk upright in my seat just as a crumpled ball of paper hits my cheek. It bounces once on my desk and settles on the floor. I see that it was the fifth one.

Around me, there is a chorus of silent laughter.

My heart is pounding, not from this childish display of oppression.

It's not real. Get yourself together.

After my heart has stilled, I shoot a glare at the blonde idiot sitting three seats down my row.

Mike Newton writes something, crumples it, and throws it at me. I catch the note and untwist the paper.

WAKE UP SLEEPING BEAUTY

I crumple the paper again, and it joins its comrades on the floor.

I mustn't retaliate. Nothing good ever comes out of that.

I glace at the clock on the wall. Twenty more minutes till the end of class.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him look back at a friend. He is grinning.

I want to punch it off his face, though I've never punched anyone before. I would be the one with the bruises. And, despite the injustice, I would be given a white slip of paper requesting my presence in the Principal's Office.

Another ball is thrown, and this one hits the back of my head.

I shoot a glance at the distracted Banner writing an equation on the board and babbling about cell theory. I know for certain that he will turn his head at precisely the wrong moment.

The hypothesis had been proven time and time again. It was now a Theory with a capital T.

Fuck this.

I turn and throw the crumpled paper back to the thrower: Tyler Crowley.

He dodges it and his elbow knocks his notebook to the ground making Banner turn around.

"What, exactly, Miss Cullen, are you doing." His deep voice holds no question, just accusation. I hate being called that.

Snickers. The loudest are from Lauren Mallory who flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder with a well-practiced hand motion. Newton follows the gesture with his eyes though he does not realize it.

I sneer "Just fuck off, Mr. B." I don't add anything intelligent to the insult; it would be lost on the great leader of anti-Darwinism. I have long since given up on making him believe the subject he teaches.

"The office, Miss Cullen. I hope I don't need to show you the way out." He gestures with his green marker.

I roll my eyes and pack up my things: a chewed pen, a coffee stained notebook, and a ratty bag.

I stalk out as gracefully as I can -not very graceful- and slam the lab door behind me. I relish the hollow echo it makes as the sound bounces off the surrounding red brick buildings.

From the pocket of my jeans I pull out a cigarette and light it. Drawing the at once toxic yet fragrant smoke into my aging lungs brings a smile to my lips.

I started smoking two years ago to the horror of my stepbrother, though he's thankfully decided to keep it from his parents. When I was fourteen I had managed to swipe a pack from my best friend's father. The two of us had gingerly shared a cigarette, neither willing to be the pussy who couldn't smoke like a man.

xxx

The coughing fit that left me was explosive.

"Shhhh!"

I looked up and sneered at the younger boy. "You shhhh!" I whisper shouted at him.

We were sitting on the floor of Jake's Dad's garage. I had just taken my first real drag from a cigarette. I was in hell.

Jake kicked my leg

"Ow! Dude, that was me!"

He shrugged. "I know."

I sighed. "Jesus, how old are you?" I couldn't believe I took him with me. I should have taken Angela.

"Hey."

"What do you want, Jake."

"Pass it to me." He demanded, gesturing for the lit cigarette in my hand.

"Yeah, no." I force myself to take another lungful. It burns. I barely manage to blow it out without coughing. "I'm older than you." I continued. "I'm supposed to be responsible."

He snorted and dissolved into silent giggles.

I rolled my eyes. "What?" I said, annoyed.

"Nothing," he managed to gasp out. "It's just that you've pretty much screwed that bit up."

I smacked him. "Shut it, you dick. A little respect is in order." I hide my cringe when the word "dick" comes out.

"Perhaps I would if you deserved it!" he said mischievously.

"You little shit!" I made a swipe for him, but he ducked. I fell forward, and he deftly plucked the cigarette from between my fingers.

Before I could say anything, he brought the stick to his lips and took in a deep breath.

His coughing was as explosive as mine. I hid a smirk.

"So, how'd you like it?" I asked.

"Love it" He replied hoarsely. He took in another drag, and that made me narrow my eyes. I was not about to get shown up by some thirteen year old.

"Give it back, little kids shouldn't smoke." I snapped before I stole back the roll of paper.

Xxx

It's strange how people change. One minute, it's as if they are standing beside you. The next, you hardly know them. The next, they're gone forever.

Here, in Forks, people change as they do everywhere else. Though perhaps it is only here where change occurs mostly when people test the fates.

When Harry Clearwater jumped off Elder's Cliff two years ago, His wife Sue drank all her husband's alcohol, thirsty as the fish he used to catch with his buddies. She grew fat, and smoked. Her daughter Leah had to raise her brother Seth alone. None of them were ever the same again.

The kids in La Push often jumped off Elder's Cliff as a test of mettle. I've jumped off it once. It was the singularly most terrifying thing in my life. I dropped like a stone from impossible heights struggling not to faint before I hit the water.

xxx

"It all depends on how strong your legs are, and how far you can propel yourself into the water. Bella," I looked up at him. My face is reflected in his eyes "you know you don't have to do this, right?"

It was the height of summer and the water was being tossed wildly by the wind.

Jake was pleading and his golden eyes were serious. He knew all too well the danger of jumping off Elder's Cliff. His father had lost his legs, and he very nearly followed suit.

"Jacob Black" I teased, "are you suggesting I back down from Paul's dare?"

He could tell I was only distracting myself. He knew me better than anyone.

"I love you Bella." He whispered into my ear as if it was a secret. Time slows and my heart beats faster. I feel blood heat up my cheeks and look up to see him blushing too. It was the first time he's said he loved me aloud.

"So, just-"

I cut him off, "I know Jake," I murmured and placed a quick hesitant kiss on his cheek

I jumped off Elder's Cliff, and for a moment I saw the world in clarity; the grey clouds held such defined forms while the rocks below me looked so sharp that it hurt to look at them. Gravity pulled me downwards leaving my queasy stomach somewhere in the sky. All I could hear was the loud rush of wind in my ears; I could see the blur of earthy colors and feel the panic in me rising as my body fell without care of up or down. I hit the icy water with a sharp splash and it nearly knocked me out cold. Jake swam out to help me get back to the shore.

That evening, we wrapped ourselves in towels and sat on his living room floor and shared a kiss that tasted of saltwater and hot sunshine.

xxx

I blow out my breath of smoke. I've changed since that jump. Just another one of the many things I'd rather not remember, though I can't decide if I'd rather forget what happened before the jump, or afterwards.

It's been a few months since then, and it hurt less than I thought it would. The painful sobs that once shook my body and the bitter aches that pierced me deep within my chest faded to twinges of longing for what we had. Or what I thought we had. Perhaps it didn't hurt so much because we were never really together. Or maybe it just wasn't love like he said it was.

Or maybe you're too good at forgetting.

After I finish my cigarette and flatten the remains beneath my old shoes, I walk into Mr. Greene's office. I can smell myself despite the air freshener that reeks of sickening sweetness and the air conditioner cooling the office ten degrees above average Forks temperature. I smell of ashes and old memories.

I am greeted with the customary stack of papers littering the desk of Forks High School's principal. I sigh heavily. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

AN: Hey, so yeah, I edited this. Hope you like it. Feedback makes me smile and is much appreciated :)