Tears

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Heh.

Sooo...no idea whatsoever where this oneshot came from, seriously. I don't have any special preference to Charlie, nor do I particularily enjoy this part of the books. Just bored, I guess. -shrug-

Anyway, this is my first Twilight fic; I mainly write for Warriors; you know, the cat series? If, by chance, you happen to read those books, I'd appreciate if you checked out my oneshots on this account and my stories on mah main. I do love Twilight, though; I'm planning on writing more for this fandom in the near future. Anyway! Enough of my babbling, let's get on with the actual writing.

In case you hadn't guessed, this is Charlie's POV when Bella left with the Cullens during the climax of Twilight. Enjoy.


The door slammed in my face.

I staggered backwards a couple of steps, tripping on an embarrassing combination of my own two feet and the air. It was like I'd been slapped smartly across the cheek, or, at least, so seemed the stricken look upon my face; my eyes bulged, while my jaws sagged so wide that you just might be able to drive my bulky police cruiser straight through without any trouble. My hand flew up to clutch at my chest, unrecognizable emotions flying through me at the speed of sound.

Blindly, I sank down onto the striped sofa. As usual, the television was on, blaring commentary on the baseball game and flashing its bright images so the light danced around the little room, although I barely noticed. I merely stared at a spot on the wall opposite me, not moving, hardly breathing; I felt hollow, dead. How could this possibly have happened, this peaceful life of mine become so horribly twisted, so horribly wrong?

Tipping my head back so it leaned against the back of the couch, I lifted my gaze to look comprehensively at the ceiling above. How? The question lingered in my head, stubbornly refusing to leave.

"Just let me go, Charlie."

My daughter's words had, quite literally, ripped out my soul, thrown it harshly on the floor, and trampled it without sparing a thought for how I might just feel about it. The long-ago memories, buried under layers and layers of sleepless nights and silent mournings, had already been threatening to become unearthed, and had blown up in my face at Bella's whispered phrase.

The perfect echo of her mother's.

Nearly two whole decades ago.

I'm not a crier, not one lousy bit. Heck, I'll grudgingly admit that one of my greatest fears is tears; they scare me to death, truth be told. Glittering tracks running down cheeks, the anguished, passionate overflowing of eyes...they make me cringe, flinch back for some unknown reason. I'm not sure why, or how, or...I just...I just can't take crying. Not one damned bit.

Well, it looks like I've just about killed that factor; at least the one where I rarely spill over. For I cried then, bawled like hell itself was racing dangerously at my heels.

When my only daughter stormed out of the hosue because of that slimy Edward Cullen, for the first time in nearly seventeen years, I cried.


...I've realized that it's terribly short, yes, don't kill me for it. I needed something to do for twenty minutes and typed this up. I also think that Charlie might be a tad bit OOC...ah, well. I'd love it if you, y'know, dropped me a review? -hinthintnudgenudge- :)

--Annie