A/N: My first attempt at a Twilight fanfic. Go easy? Thanks to my co-writer, Leah and our beta, Laura.
Summary: OOC Bella and Edward. Canon pairings. No Jacob Black.
POVs: Edward and Bella.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here. Except for my own characters, who are based on Twilight characters anyway.
Preface.
Edward.
There's a time in your life when you realise how much of a sick, twisted bastard God must be to allow such horrible things happen to you.
I was there, right then, in the barren wasteland people thought could pass for a funeral garden. Staring at my mother's dead, lifeless body lying in the coffin that reeked of timber and perfume. Why you would spray a dead body with such overbearing perfume is beyond me. She didn't smell like my mother anymore. She looked just like her though. She could even be asleep. If I could just wake her up…
"Dear boy, what are you doing?" asked the priest. I looked up at his horrified expression and realised I was actually shaking my mother. My dead, cold mother. I shuddered and lay her back down among the flowers and plush, purple velvet lining her home - her coffin.
"Sorry" I said huskily. I decided it would be better if I just walked away. I would only end up offending everybody with my insane behavior. But they shouldn't be freaking judging me. Fuck, I'd lost both of my parents in the space of a year; it takes its toll.
I grimaced bitterly at the audience, sitting out there in their black dresses and suits like it was some red carpet fashion event. I had just opted for my tattered jeans and plain, grey top. What was the point? Mum was dead anyway.
I doubted she cared whether she got respect or not. She was gone. Her body was nothing more than a pit of dead cells and rotting flesh. Soon enough, she would be eaten away by microbes floating around in her coffin. Lovely thought.
I walked to my shitty, plastic white chair and sat down numbly. I think I almost missed the seat with my ass, but I didn't fucking care.
I wanted my mother back. I wanted her happy. She deserved to die when she was fulfilled and ready. Not in a fit of despair and self hatred. I sighed and dropped my head into my large, coarse hands. 'The hands of a real musician' Bella had always said.
She was the only thing keeping me stable right now. She placed a warm arm around my back and hugged me into her chest.
"It will all be okay, Edward" she whispered into my ear, her voice light and soft but strangely croaky from crying.
I couldn't tell my Bella how completely wrong she was. Nothing was okay, nor would it ever be. I could see myself living the rest of my life depressed and alone. Bella would leave me soon, realizing how fucked I was in the head, and she would be happy. At least somebody here deserved to be.