This short story is just the first installment of my new collection of drabbles/short stories called Workings of a Broken Soul. Each story will feature a different Twilight character during a time where they're in a particularly bad place or in the process of healing. Non will be very long. So, without further ado, I give you Jacob!
Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and sadly, not me.
Broken
You ran. You sprinted north, until your lungs burned and your limbs ached with every move.
You thought that if you could get far enough away - out of sight, out of mind, they say - then you could get the voices of your worried brothers out of your head. But, still, thousands of miles away, in a new country, their desperate pleas for you to return are as clear as if they'd been whispering them directly into your ear.
And maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down in your splintered heart, you believed that if you took yourself away from anything that would remind you of her, then you may be able to master enough control to phase back. It's infuriating because at the same time you don't want to return to the same emotion-driven kid you'd tried to leave behind. You crave and yearn for the numbness that the instinctive mind of the wolf was supposed to give you.
But it's still there. The hurt may have dulled a bit and lost its intensity over time, but it is still present, dominating over your every thought and action.
In the end you return anyways. The home you so impulsively fled not so long before hasn't changed; except now, it may be even more lonely that it had been. She's getting married tomorrow, and your insides churn in fresh agony. Soon the bloodsucker will fulfill his promise and she will be human no more. It would be better if she just died, you try to convince yourself, because then she doesn't have to change, and if she doesn't change, you may still be able to see in her the girl you once loved.