"If they only knew what she is." I heard him whisper beneath his breath to low for any human ears to have picked up. I shifted my eyes to see his face it was grim. I ripped off a corner of one of my spiral sheets of paper. Writing, what's wrong? I pushed the sheet over to him opening my notebook to a blank page and beginning to scribble poetic words in French. He glanced at it, and responded writing a quick reply before sliding the small paper over to me. I glanced at it you don't want to know. I rolled my eyes, replying. Try me. I pushed the paper over to him. He let out a deep breath and flipped the paper over scribbling on the back. They're thinking about you, all of them. It's obnoxious and I can't get their stupid thoughts out of my head. He pressed the paper towards me and leaned back in his chair giving off a slight huff, his arms crossed giving off the demeanor that he was not at all happy to be here. I glanced at the paper, and laughed under my breath, Edward glanced over at me. I shook my head and went back to what I was writing. English class continued quiet boring I had already read all the books on the reading list; currently they were reading Romeo and Juliet.
The bell rang and the teacher yelled, "Don't forget, your four sonnets are due at the end of the week." I picked up my things careful to go at a human pace.
Edward and I walked into the hall when he spoke, "What was the laugh for?" He asked referring to my reaction to his last note. My eyes, which had been on the ground, the entire time, as I couldn't stand looking directly into the eyes of so many people, moved to look at him he was looking forward however, and not directly at me. I glanced quickly around, and biting slightly on my lip, I replied in Spanish knowing he spoke it fluently.
"I've been an object for so long the fact that no matter where I go or how far I travel to get away, it doesn't matter I could go to the ends of the earth and I would still remain no more than a mere object in the eyes of man. In this world, in this life, I am nothing." I let out a held breath and looked back to the ground.
"I would disagree," he said in English. We had made it to our next class, but the bell wasn't to ring for another three minutes. He leaned against the wall beside the door; I pulled my spiral to my chest and looked him in the face. I looked at him in confusion.
"Why do you disagree?" I continued to speak in Spanish still fearing for others to hear my voice in its natural accent. I was a master at changing my accent; I could speak French, Spanish, Romanian, German, and English all perfectly without an American or English accent.
"Well, all men are bound to think that way of one person or another, and many may have viewed you as that way, but it is not to your character or person that this was done or tainted, but rather instead to there's. They are the ones who are wrong." We walked into class I handed my paper over to the teacher and we sat down. He whispered this last part beneath his breath. "The body, is an extension of who we are, it is an art form, that holds our person in, even if we are ourselves soulless."
You think we're soulless? I wrote on a sheet of paper relieved to not have to speak aloud anymore. Yes, he wrote in response. I disagree with you on that. Everything has a soul, whether a soul is good or not, now that's worth questioning. He glanced at the paper and his face formed one of curiosity. Then it quickly turned to one of humor, so are you saying this desk has a soul, and this paper has a soul. I read his response and smiled, no, man made objects don't have souls, they are the remnants of things that once held souls, however, certain things have been known to be taken over by spirits of man, such as homes and books. Such things like that they have souls, but not always. I handed the paper over to him, and started the quiz the Algebra II teacher had just passed out. I answered the questions in fifteen minutes making it seem as though I was having to think about my answers. I took my paper to the front, and sat down. He pushed the paper back over to me, so how do you know whether you have a good soul or a bad soul? I smiled at that question I myself had been asking that question for months. I don't know. He looked at it and nodded. Do you think you have a good soul? He wrote. Yes.
Why?
Because I'm a good person
I'm not I'm a monster.
I don't believe that, the way your family lives, the way you live, there are worst creatures than you. I should know I lived with them for the last year or so.
The bell for class rang again, and we walked out it was lunchtime. We walked to the lunch room walking through the line and picking up things to make us seem human, none of it smelled nor looked appealing lunchroom food never had, in fact I hadn't eaten it for years even human. We sat down at an empty table in the back the rest of the family would be showing up in the next few moments. "What was it like?" Edward asked sitting down in the chair across from me.
"What was what like?" This time I spoke in my normal English.
"Hmm, your voice is beautiful. You're American?" I nodded. "What was it like living with people who obviously didn't follow your lifestyle?"
"I don't know, I…the person who changed me did so after he kidnapped me, he beat me, and then took the one thing that was mine and mine alone to give. I lay there burning; I was more alone then, than I had ever been before in my life. And there were many moments for which I felt alone. I thought I was going to die. And then when I didn't and I came back and everything was so much more enhanced, it was like experiencing everything ten times within one moment. I didn't know what to do; I didn't know what I was capable of. The man who changed me kept me, I was forced to travel with him he was satanic. I didn't know where else to go, I watched as he drained innocent humans, and he tried to get me to do the same. I didn't drink until about a month ago. Finally I grew angry and I pushed him back with my mind he fell into the flames of a fire created by the humans he had just murdered. The adrenaline created by my anger and fear made me run, and before I knew what I was doing, there was a dead wolf at my feet. I ran back to the hotel we were staying in determined that I was going to get out for good, I had it all planned I was going to run away. I was going to go to Canada, to the French district and I was going to disappear." The rest of the family sat down I had heard them walk up about two minutes before.
"So what happened?" Asked Emmet for once not so full of laughter.
"Social services came to the door right when I was about to walk out. My clothes were blood soaked, I hadn't even noticed. When they asked where my parents were I lied and told them, they were dead and that the two men had been keeping me hostage I told them they had left yesterday, and I was running away because I was tired of them hurting me. They took me in immediately it was the only thing that I could say that I knew would not put me in jail or some crazy psycho government facility of course I could have ran, but I had been told that to reveal myself was the more dangerous than any life I was living in there hands." This entire conversation was held in vampire whispers anyone who may have been looking at the table would have just seen a group of kids sitting at a table looking off into space overly board.
"So what about your family, are they not still looking for you?" Edward asked.
"They probably don't realize I'm gone yet."
"How would they not notice that there daughter has been missing for a year," Asked Rosaline.
I smiled to myself; looking at the tray of food my hands were on working to destroy a roll into a million pieces. The bell rang and I stood, not answering. I had Biology and Creative Writing left. Biology was once again with Edward while Creative Writing was one of the two that I didn't share with him. In fact I didn't share creative writing with any of the Cullen's. I didn't talk to Edward all through Biology, instead we sat there in silence between each other listening to the teacher give his lesson on mitochondria or at least pretending to listen anyway. I was young, but I was intelligent, I had been attending a private college in Colorado when I was taken. I had spent all my childhood in boarding schools. I had seen my parents a grand total of five times between the age of five and fifteen. I graduated at the top of my class at fifteen I had worked hard so I could get out of there I was tired of listening to the girls and there talk. Girls were mean, and evil and conniving especially when you put a whole bunch of them in one place together without any distraction of the opposite sex around they focused all of there energy on making the rest of us miserable. I went off to college, attending school in Colorado my parents had bought me a house just off the campus, they didn't call or anything they just sent a letter containing all the information and I did the same that was frequently the way we communicated. I hadn't seen them since my graduation, and they never kept up with my grades. I wasn't sure if they knew I was still there or not, or if they thought I had run off with out informing them and would send them a letter whenever I got stuck and decided I needed a bit of cash. My mom had written a few times to fact that she was surprised at how little trouble I was. She said she was just waiting for that rebellious stage to hit. Now as a Vampire and my human memories fading I couldn't even remember her face.
"Ms. Swan?" The teacher had apparently been trying to get my attention for some time. I looked up.
Edward whispered "four" low enough for only me to hear, and that's what I responded with. The teacher Mr. Banner's eyes got big and he seemed to splutter, "Umm, yes that's correct." I just continued to look at him as his eyes remained on mine, a look of surprised confusion. Then he turned his attention back to the entire class as though he had just come out of a trance and continued falling over his words at first but picking them up better as he moved along with his lecture. I put my hand on the desk picking up the pen and opening my notebook to a fresh page. I wrote the rest of the period. The bell rang and as I rose to leave, Mr. Banner called me to his desk.
"He wants to know where you're from." Edward whispered in my ear before leaving.
I walked up to the desk. "Yes sir." I whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
"Where my dear may I ask are you from?" He said scratching out something on a sheet of paper and looking up, my eyes remained on his desk, I didn't look at him I couldn't..
"Colorado, sir."
"My sister lives in Colorado, and you don't sound like you're from Colorado." He said.
"Well sir, I've lived all over, but the last place I stayed was Colorado."
"Hmm, very good then, where were your parents from."
"I don't know sir, because their dead." I could feel the tension immediately change in the room.
"I'm sorry." He said.
"May I go to my next class now?" I asked.
"Yes you may, do you need a pass?" I shook my head and walked out.
I walked to the Creative writing classroom the teacher was old but she was full of high spirits. She was one with the earth as I had once hoped to be before this life had replaced my old. As I handed her the note from the front office explaining that I was new, she asked me, "So my dear do you like to write?"
"No, I love to. It's what keeps me sane, and prevents me from loosing my mind, every second of the day, it's the one place where I'm aloud to be my own self, and speak my own mind."
"Well then very good, welcome. I have a feeling you will do well in here. So what sort of things do you like to write?" The other kids had all sat down and instantly gotten to work on one project or another.
"Poetry, essay's, I have a few novels I've either completed or am still working on. However, my favorite subject matter is philosophy, especially philosophy of religion."
"Interesting, is that what you plan to study in college then my dear?"
"Yes." Actually I already had started studying philosophy of religion in college, but well all of those classes were down the toilet in this world.
She pointed me to a seat and gave me a fresh notebook to begin writing my class stuff in. I wrote the rest of the period, for once in English.
Class ended for the day and the Cullen's and I all piled into Edward's Volvo, and drove home. We walked into the house; I sat on the couch and opened up my class notebook, and continued writing. Rosaline sat down at the other end of the couch. "I didn't appreciate the way you ignored my question and walked away the way you did." I looked at her. "I would like it very much if you would answer the question now?" She was easily pushed and insulted she thought of herself very highly.
"My family isn't something I care to discuss; my past as far back as the last year is the only thing that exists anymore, anything before that doesn't matter. It barely mattered then, I was surviving I've been surviving my entire life, never have I truly lived. My family I barely saw them when I was alive, I grew up going to boarding schools basically expensive orphanages for kids whose parents were still alive, but didn't care to spend time with them or raise them." I shrugged my shoulders and went back to my writing.
"I don't understand the parents of your generation; they don't realize what they have. They don't realize what their missing out on. I'd give anything to have a family like your parents had with you, and I wouldn't send my kid off so someone else could raise them."
"It wasn't as bad as you might think, but it wasn't a family."
"So does this mean your going to talk now?"
"You have a good family here, but for someone who isn't used to large groups of people it's scary to first walk into. I don't generally like people, I prefer to be alone most of the time." She laughed at that.
"You and Edward should get along perfectly then, he's the crabbiest person on the face of the planet and he gives off this air that he hates everyone as well. However, in reality he only hates himself."
"Why? I don't understand that."
"He is angry still that he's this monstrous creature. He is angry that he has no one to love where as he's surrounded by so many that are in love. He thinks that he is undeserving of any kind of love, he believes this is his punishment his permanent hell on earth."
"Everyone deserves to be loved." I whispered looking at my notebook sitting in my lap.
"Have you ever loved someone, Bella?"
"No, I don't think I ever even loved my parents."
"Has anyone ever loved you?"
"People have said it, but who am I to know what's true in that."
"It sounds to me as though you and Edward are not that much different." She stood and walked away at that point going up the stairs. I looked back at my notebook and began to write. Edward walked from behind me. He had been out in the garden talking to Esme. He sat down where Rosaline had been sitting and looked up towards the direction she had left. I looked at him for a moment and then went back to my work.
"Rose wants me to ask about your parents she seems to think you and I can find a bit of common understanding though our experiences with family are different. What does she mean different?"
"I wouldn't know Edward as I have no idea what kind of life you lived before this. However, mine was no different than I expect it to be in a year when I "age out.""
"Does that mean your not planning to stay?" He seemed concerned.
"This isn't my family Edward."
"Not yet, but it could be if you wanted it to, the others like you, their weary, because you're not one to give up your personnel information. However, they're willing to let that go as long as your willing to open up to the point where they feel it ok to share with you."
"I don't talk of my past, because I don't like my past. It is not happy, neither in my human life nor in my new one."
"Well perhaps you will find it is happier now. The others all like you."
"What about you, you keep saying they like me what of you?" He seemed to get nervous at that one looking away towards his piano, his body shifted on the seat. He let out an unnecessary breath.
"Yes, I like you a lot in fact. I like the way that when I'm around you, my thoughts are only my thoughts I'm not bombarded with a million and one other people's thoughts or even your thoughts. It's silent, and it's been a long time since I experienced that."
"You don't hear my thoughts?" I was looking at him.
"No, and you're the only person that I can't hear. It's refreshing."
"Why do you suppose that is, am I really so different, my mind running on a different frequency." I looked away and back upon my work, it explained so well what Edward and I both seemed to feel of this world, and our selves just as Rosaline had said. I read my words quickly along the page:
I broke the winds and the clouds,
I scattered the dirt and seed,
I burned the yard and house.
I took what wasn't mine to take.
Yellows, purples, reds, and blues,
Nature,
But instead of green it's gray.
I took the world from what it is you see,
And I placed it in the rain.
I murdered the land and its people.
I took all the animals and watched them suffer.
I placed myself in hell.
I created my own nightmare.
I broke the mirror and crossed the black cat.
I missed the tolling bell.
I missed the bright light and golden gates.
I pitched myself forward into the black and burning,
Forced to live a life of burning.
I missed that final bell,
The one meant to take me home.
I cursed the one, who did it,
As I gave him what I lost and missed.
I heard the bell toll for him.
So I looked upon the world:
I broke the winds and the clouds,
I scattered the dirt and seed,
I burned the yard and house.
I took what wasn't mine to take.
Yellows, purples, reds and blues,
Nature,
But instead of green it's gray.
I took the world from what it is you see,
And I placed it in the rain.
I murdered the land and its people.
I took all the animals and watched them suffer.
I placed myself in hell.
I destroyed all that I deemed good.
I created the world I felt was assaulting me.
I trapped what was hurting in my palm,
I squeezed out the hurt from my body,
But not my heart and soul.
I looked at the world that I had trapped in rain,
And my body made rain down my cheeks.
My soul felt the tarnished earth beneath the toes,
My heart sunk into my chest,
My body burned with fever.
I had placed myself in hell.
So I gave it to the one who caused all this.
The one who stole heavens gates from me.
I had felt my heart and soul break the day I'd killed the man who'd killed me. I felt a piece of myself die. Then when I'd found myself to have taken the life of a wolf, the creature that had once been my spirit guide in my human life. I had close relations with such creatures and I had killed one, one of my own. I'd drained it dry to stop the constant burning of my throat. My own hell on earth, I'd created it.
"It's not a bad thing Bella." Edward said breaking my thoughts.
"It feels so, just another thing to separate me from the world."
"You don't have to be separated anymore not if you don't want to."
"What do you suggest?"
"Join our family, be one of us. Don't leave like you spoke of doing before, stay here."
"You sound as though you might be begging Edward."
"I'm not begging, merely asking."
"Why do you want me to stay?"
"Selfish reasons I like the silence, and I think you're fascinating I'd like to get to know you better."
"Are you saying you want to date me?" I asked my eyes hadn't left my notebook the entire time we'd been speaking.
"Maybe…I don't know. I've never really had any interest in people, mostly because their person was written in their thoughts and well obviously I can't hear yours." I was looking at him now his eyes were focused on the fabric of the couch between us, his fingers picking at his jeans. I smiled at the idea. I hadn't ever dated before.
"Ok, I'll stay." He looked at my face. I was smiling at him.
"Really," He said. I nodded. His eyes grew big and a smile formed on his face. He reached over hugging me. My notebook fell to the ground and my arms were stuck to my side, I was afraid to move. My eyes were large not knowing how to react. Then he made a noise in his throat pulling back looking at me apologetically. I just looked at him blankly. "Sorry, that wasn't necessary. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's fine." I said. I bit my lip and went to pick up my notebook, but Edward got there a millisecond faster. He looked at the cover holding it in his hands.
"This isn't like your other ones where'd it come from?"
"Creative Writing teacher it's for class."
"Have you written anything yet?" I nodded looking at it. "May I?" He said pointing. I thought about it a moment and then nodded. He read it:
"I Placed the World in the Rain
I broke the winds and the clouds,
I scattered the dirt and seed,
I burned the yard and house.
I took what wasn't mine to take.
Yellows, purples, reds, and blues,
Nature,
But instead of green it's gray.
I took the world from what it is you see,
And I placed it in the rain.
I murdered the land and its people.
I took all the animals and watched them suffer.
I placed myself in hell…"
He stopped reading aloud at that point and continued at his own. His eyes widened and slanted. Then he looked up, "This is what happened to you before you came here. You feel as though you're living in hell of your own creation."
"Only because I allowed the hell I was placed in to control me."
"It's beautiful; I don't think I could ever write anything like this. What was the topic?"
"There was none, it was a free-write."
"Wow, that's amazing." I nodded. "It seems, you and I are one in the same."
"I no longer feel that I'm in hell." I said looking at him. He looked at me quizzical.
"Funny, neither do I." Then he kissed me.