I do not own the Twilight series.
This is my latest story. The idea was just invading my brain and I had to write it. It might be a bit confusing at first, but as you get to the end, you get the gist of what I'm doing. Review and enjoy!
SUMMARY: Bella Swan had a normal childhood and loving parents, until one day a man stepped through their door and killed the people she loved most. Her uncle raised her, and now years later she is consumed by the vengeance she wants to extract on her parents' murderers, the Cullens, beginning with their only son Edward.
She was alone. She sat quietly on the dilapidated end of her favorite chair, staring unseeingly at a brown stain on the dirty wall of the small kitchen. As was the norm in the overcast town of Forks, Washington, the sky was an unending sea of grey clouds pouring in their gloomy shadow into her confined world. The yellow cabinets she had once cheerfully painted what seemed to be so long ago were peeling, deteriorating just as she was with the ordeal that had ruined her life.
Silence was her companion, cloaking her like a cold blanket as she remained transfixed in that one position. She heard the soft rustling echo from the living room, her gaze finally breaking it's hypnotizing hold on the stain. The sounds became more restless and persistent, bringing her to her feet, which were shaky from sitting for three hours whilst staring into oblivion, and made her slow retreat to the rustling noise.
It was a slightly less than average room, all in all. She had tried to convince her husband to let her paint the living room a more lively color, to furnish it as she pleased. But he insisted it was fine the way it was and refused her proposals. Looking at the room now, she found a twisted comfort in her surroundings. The walls were a yellowed white, practically bare except for a frame here and there. There was her husband's recliner, sagging and sunken in, lying like an elderly man in front of the small television. The stained coffee table lay in front of the recliner, the remnants of various assortments of food strewn on it. A tall lamp stood next to the television stand, unlit and unused.
And on the long couch in front of the foggy window lay a mass of writhing blankets and long chestnut brown hair, nearing a shade of mahogany. She walked quietly to the wiggling ball of wool, sitting down gently on the non moving end, stretching her hands out to soothe the little girl underneath the fabric.
"I'm here, no baby, don't cry. Mommy's here now." She cooed to the now weeping girl, brushing some of her hair lovingly from her face. She gathered her daughter into her arms, rocking her back and forth as the sobs subsided and the girl fully awakened.
"Mommy?" A small, tremulous voice whispered from the cocoon of her arms.
"I'm here, baby. It was all just a bad dream." She whispered back gently to her child, smoothing back her tangled hair.
A face peeked up from the warm enclosure she had made; the small, pale heart shaped face with flushed chubby cheeks was visible to her now, meanwhile the big, chocolate brown eyes raked over her face. Her rosebud mouth frowned as she looked over her mother's ragged appearance. She had heard her parents arguing lately, had seen the dealings in the house; she may have be a child, but her perceptiveness belied her keen intelligence.
She knew that it wasn't a nightmare what her mind had procured while she tried to nap; it was reality, and it was one that was weighing down on her beloved mother's conscience.
"It was the bad mister, mommy. He was after us in my dream. He was hurting you and daddy and..." She choked out as the nightmare rushed back to her. The screams of her parents as the scary mister tortured them echoed in her head, the fruitless struggle she had tried to put up in effort to help them haunting her even though she was aware it had all been a figment of her imagination.
She stiffened as her daughter recounted the nightmare. It was uncanny how intuitive her only child truly was; how aware she was of the things going on around her. She should have known that she would have been unable to keep things under wraps long.
"It's alright, sweetie, nothing bad happened to Mommy and Daddy. We're safe." She responded to the girl, an uncertainty ringing in her voice in contradiction with her words as she rubbed the girl's back. She was well aware that they were far from being safe.
"Is Daddy going to be home soon? I wanted to show him my new book about fairies and it was great!" She exclaimed, feeling that her mother wanted to talk no longer about her dream. She jumped out of her mother's embrace and ran to the coffee table, where she crouched down and pulled out a little book with a pixie like creature smiling on the cover. She ran to her, waving the book like a flag in front of her face, ranting about how great it was and how she wished she had fairy friends to play with.
With the change of subject she became herself again. She smiled at her daughter and chattered with her about her book, taking her hand and leading her towards her previous kingdom of gloom. She set her daughter on the chair that had been her throne of misery and opened the refrigerator, digging through the scarce items within.
"I was thinking of doing something simple tonight. How about spaghetti and meatballs?" She asked the little girl, giving up and settling for a rather simple dinner. The girl nodded wearily, well aware that even though spaghetti and meatballs were a "simple" dinner for many her mother managed to convert anything of the like into an inedible disaster.
They talked happily while the spaghetti boiled, unaware of the time. They were so wrapped up in their own little world that the only thing that snapped them out of it was the loud bang of a door shoved open.
She ran to the entrance of her home, panic sweeping through her. The girl followed her mother closely, hiding behind her legs as she peeked at the new arrival.
A man stood there, eyes wild as he tried to even out his ragged breathing. His dark hair was plastered to his face and his officer's uniform was soaked by the unrelenting rain he had run through, puddles forming on the floor.
"We have to go Renee; they're after us." He said, his voice shaky as he strode past his stunned wife and confused daughter. He purposefully made his way up the stairs, taking them two at a time and barging into the master bedroom. He dug under the bed, produced a battered duffle bag and proceeded to opening random drawers and shoving their contents into the bag. He moved quickly, though shakily, through the room, muttering under his breath as he grabbed whatever he could get his hands on and stuffing it in the growing bag.
"What in the world are you doing Charlie? What's going on?" Renee asked as she stood, stunned, on the doorway, looking panic stricken at the wreckage her husband wrought on their bedroom.
Upon hearing his wife's voice, Charlie paused in his ministrations to as calmly as possible reassure her things were not as bad as they actually were. He failed miserably.
"He's on to us, Renee; he's going to hurt us if we don't leave soon. He'll stop at nothing to get back at me. We need to go!" He roared, returning to the frenzy he was previously engaged in. Renee was speechless as the words he screamed at her sunk in. He was after them. He was going to hurt them badly if they didn't leave soon; it was only a matter of time. Shaking, she walked tentatively to the bed, her trembling hands loosely grabbing rumpled shirts and shoving them back into the bag. It was all a matter of time...
In the middle of the mayhem, the little girl had walked into the room. Neither one of her parents was in a state of mind to think of much other than escape; she stood amid their harried attempts to gather as much as they could before taking off and starting a new life. Dazed and frightful, tears began to prickle her doe eyes.
"Mommy? Daddy? What's going on?" She asked in a small voice. The far away look on her father's face was scary; her mother's fearful stare did nothing to soother her. Tugging on Renee's shirt, she began to sob.
Renee felt the pull on her shirt and looked down to see her tear stained child. Stopping in the middle of her packing, she bent down and took her face gently in her hands.
"Bella, we need to leave. We're going to go on a vacation; remember that Daddy promised to take us to California? We'll go to the beaches and play in the ocean if you go to your room and put your clothes into your backpack so we can leave as soon as possible. Okay sweetie?" Renee explained as gave her a kiss on the cheek, lightly pushing her out the door to her room across the hall.
Bella, reassured by her mother's promises, ran out. Once she arrived at her destination, she grabbed her purple backpack and got her favorite shirts and pants in it. After careful deliberation she decided to take a few of her books with her, knowing she would get bored on the way to California.
Once she was done with her packing, she opened her door and walked along the rail, looking down to see her mother yank their jackets off the racks and her father slamming their door open.
But their time was up.
Bella didn't see the man's face; but she did hear her mother's piercing scream as she recognized the man that had haunted her nightmares. She crouched down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as her parents stood frozen with fear.
Charlie knew that he didn't have much time when he had managed to fool him; but he thought they would have been out of here by the time he came looking. He'd be damned if he was going to let the bastard hurt his wife and daughter; he'd fight him to the death so long as they didn't get hurt.
The man was clad in a black trench coat and, ironically, a pair of sunglasses, while his blonde hair was darkened by the rain. He was tall, and muscular by the looks of his straining coat. A sinister smile was he only thing gracing his pale face.
He took a step forward and no one had yet to make a move. Renee couldn't think anything at all; her every fear and nightmare were becoming reality. Charlie couldn't possibly fight him; they might as well die right then and there.
Bella buried her head in her small arms, afraid to look at the scene below. The man was bad; she could tell by the way her parents had looked at him. He was going to hurt them, and she didn't want to see her parents in pain. Hushed voices began to converse, getting louder and louder, more desperate as they argued with the man. He was still speaking calmly, serenely as her parents began to shout at him to leave. Then, all she could hear was her mother's agonized scream as a shot rang through their silent house.
Bella squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, terrified of what she had heard. Another shot rumbled through the air and the dead weight of her now dead father crumpled to the floor. Sobs wracked through her fragile frame, her trembling visible as she gasped for air. She was so afraid she didn't hear the thumping of feet on the stairs as the man made his way to the sounds of a child crying.
It was the girl; Bella, Charlie had said. She was such a small little thing for a four year old; too bad her parents had to go get involved in this thing. He shook his head, droplets of water flying out of his hair as he brought up the gun he had brought especially for this occasion; and stopped. The smile returned to his face.
Maybe he could use the girl for something; as payment for all that Charlie had made him go through, of course. Maybe she could become his protégé, his apprentice. The wheels of his mind began to turn, ideas forming as he mulled over this new revelation.
Bella knew the man had found her; she could feel his cold stare on her. He was going to hurt her like he had hurt her parents, and there was nothing that she could do.
As she cried harder, the man stepped closer to her. He crouched down on the ground and whispered to her, "Open your eyes."
Afraid to get hurt if she did not comply, Bella slowly let her lids lift. Then, as if in slow motion, she met the sunglasses of the scary man.
Reaching out, he gently wiped a tear of her face.
"All a matter of time, sweetheart. You'll know."
Not wanting to confront the sinister face in front of her, Bella averted her gaze downward. It was a mistake' she saw the pools of crimson blood swirling and pooling around her parents' bodies. Her mother's face was frozen in a silent plea; her father looked remorseful.
Bella began to panic, and soon spots danced in her vision. She felt woozy, dazed as she began to tumble to the floor as the man easily caught her body. As the darkness enveloped her, she heard his manic laugh and drifted towards oblivion.