This fic was written for THE GAZEBO FIC CHALLENGE: The Essence of Charlie Swan
Prompt used: 3. Charlie watching Bella struggle in New Moon
Please see the C2 - THE GAZEBO FIC CHALLENGE: The Essence of Charlie Swan for more fics in this competition.
Thanks to my beta for this story: Alice Vampire
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Twilight saga. If you recognize something it is the property of Stephenie Meyer.
It is barely the 13th of January.
The night is at its darkest and all light seems lost.
It is raining. Nothing new there, it is always raining in Forks. Normally the rhythmic dribble of the rain soothes me and pulls me to sleep. Not tonight.
I am sitting in my room in the old armchair, I feel restless. My right hand is folded around a beer. The same beer I have taken to bed with me last night. I take a sip. It tastes stale by now. The neon-green light of the alarm clock creates an otherworldly atmosphere. The numbers show 04:33. Almost morning, almost time. The anticipation is the worst.
Four months ago my little girl was left in the woods. Left by him. Alone. After he broke up with her. She has not been herself since then.
The first week had been hell. She did not speak to anyone, ate barely a thing, reacted to nothing. She was so obviously hurting that it was painful to watch. I had been out of my mind with worry as I called her mother. Renee had come of course. She might be harebrained and chaotic, but always loving. You could depend on her when you really needed her. Hell, she would probably even come for me, if the situation was desperate.
We had decided to ship our daughter to Jacksonville, get some professional help. It had not been a good idea. Bella was ...opposed to it. Strongly. She… I have never even seen Renee throwing such a fit. Not even in the worst days of our marriage. Bella was furious …wild …totally out of her mind. We tried a lot to convince her, but finally we gave up. She was just getting angrier, her desperate shrieks, her tears, her wild, crazy looks, the deep hurt in her eyes, god; I will never be able to forget them. We needed every last bit of our strength to calm her down again. I was even considering calling Dr Gerandy to sedate her. I don't want to relive this, ever.
This all had been hell, but now? Now was worse. At first it seemed to get better. She was getting back to school, talking, eating and even going to work. But it was only superficial. Inside she was still …dead. She never smiled, never read, never listened to music. She would not look at the TV, turn the radio off and worst, all the speaking she did? It was only answering. She never volunteered an opinion of herself anymore; she didn't even listen to conversations and only answered when someone asked her something directly. She would not speak with her friends. After some time they stopped calling. It was as if something inside her died on that day in the woods. She was not living; she was not even watching from the outside, she just…was. It hurt to see her like this. Hurt to see her try to be normal. Like… like a zombie.
I understand loss. Hell, I lost the love of my life, too. After Renee left with our baby daughter I was devastated. She was everything I ever wanted, or so I thought. She was the liveliest girl in our high school. Her crazy ideas and mood swings always made me laugh. With her I felt free and young and unaccountable. When she accepted my proposal I was the happiest I ever could be and I thought she was, too. She was already pregnant when we married. I was so proud of her, so in love, I thought my heart would burst.
But with her pregnancy our troubles began. I could not understand that she would still be so irresponsible. I could barely prevent her from cliff diving in the first trimester, the second trimester it was surfing and the last trimester was climbing. She stood on any ladder she could find. What was sweet and lovable before, soon annoyed and angered me. I could not comprehend that she would risk the wellbeing of our child in this manner. I scolded her and berated her. She got angry. We fought.
After the birth of our beautiful daughter, I thought she would finally calm down. Love shone out of her eyes when she looked at Bella. I thought the mother inside her would rule her in. I never was more wrong in my life. The night she left was horrible. I tried to fight for her, for both of my girls. After all this years the memory of it still gives me a pang. When I finally signed the divorce I was a broken man.
I chuckle darkly. In all my misery I was still better off than the girl that is dreaming in the other room at this very moment.
I don't know what this bastard did to her, but if I ever get my hands around his neck...
At first he seemed a nice kind of boy. A bit old-fashioned to be true, but …nice. He really seemed to love her. Then there was the Phoenix incident. I still don't know what it was about, but it was his fault, I am sure. Bella never really told me what happened. The little I know, well, I don't know if I believe it. It just sounds a bit off. As a police officer you get a sixth sense for such things or suck at your job. I don't think I suck and I learned to trust my instincts a long time ago. Edward Cullen sends a lot of my inner alarm bells off. I should have intervened then. I might have had a chance at the time. He would have never hurt her with whatever it is, that he did.
Guilt washes over me, accompanied with the now familiar helplessness. I feel as if I am watching someone drown before my eyes while unable to safe them. If I could see my Bella in less misery I would be grateful now, I don't even ask for her happiness anymore. Like her friends I am slowly giving up. It is killing me, the whole situation.
The numbers on the alarm clock show 4:59. Soon. I am listening. Soon I have to get ready to struggle trough another day. Another day watching my lifeless daughter try. Usually I am out of the house by six thirty now. I just can't watch her on her morning routines anymore. It seems like she needs a warming up phase to be less of a zombie, to recover from her dreams, wherever they take her. I wish I knew what she dreams about, but she won't tell me.
5:04. I am waiting, listening. The house is eerie silent, as always at this time of day. Any second now.
A loud, heart shattering cry cuts through the silence like a knife through fresh meat. 5:05, same every morning. With one swallow I drink the last of my stale beer and stand up. I walk out of my room, heading for the kitchen. As always I stop in front of her room. From the inside I hear her stifled sobbing. She does not want to wake me, little does she know, that I have not slept at all this night. I raise my hand to knock on her door, but something holds me back. I have not been in her room after the cry for some time now. I just can't cope anymore. I don't want to see her like this. I am weak. My knuckles just an inch from her door I take a deep breath and gather my courage. Some seconds later my hand sinks back. I am not going to knock tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
I turn away and head downstairs, to the kitchen. I put the empty bottle away and grab some cereals from the cupboard. Milk, spoon and a bowl follow. I assemble my breakfast and sit at the kitchen table. My actions are as lifeless as those from my daughter. I look at everything and swallow. Suddenly I am not hungry anymore. I cover my eyes with my hand and cry.