Chapter 1 – False Starts
I scrunch my eyes together tightly, as the sun filters though the blinds and tries to force me from my restless slumber. The sun hurts, it's too bright, and it grates against my sombre mood, mocking it. For once I pray for the grey, rain clouds that permeate the town where I grew up as a child, but no, the Floridian sun's happiness taunts me instead.
I roll over and bury my face in the soft downy feathers of my pillow urging sleep to wash over me once more. I'm not ready for today. I can't do this. I can't say goodbye. Not yet. I just need some more time. Please God? Please? I'm begging you.
Flash backs of happier days run through my mind in vain, trying to force my thoughts away from this shitty day. My mind's eye is awash with colour; vibrant greens and lilacs dance before my eyes, pulling me closer to him. His laughter echoes all around me and I can picture his face all crumpled up, his eyes glinting and reflecting his elation at me.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as my memories take up residence inside me, eking love and warm fuzzy feelings through my body. It doesn't last long though. Reality takes a sledge hammer to it and smashes it into a trillion little pieces. It goads me into a reaction. It sneers at the facade of happiness that I have resurrected and knocks it down bit by bit, replacing it with a slow, burning ache. I relish the hurt and pain, I strive on it. I need it just so that I can feel something real.
It's the same every morning when I wake up. I live for those two seconds, those two seconds where sleep still clouds my mind and reality evades me. For those two seconds my life is perfect, I'm happy and in love, I have Edward and I have my tiny miracle. Everything is as it should be.
Those two seconds are simultaneously the best and worst moments of the day. The best because I forget the pain that plagues me, allowing me to revel in what my life should be like. For those two seconds I'm at complete peace with the world. They are also the worst because it only it makes it harder when reality settles in. Those two seconds cajole me into thinking that everything is ok, before they brutally slash away at my tranquillity, reminding me that it's not real. The stillness in me is only temporary, it's fleeting. Those two seconds mock me with their fallacy waving images of what could be under my nose long enough to stir me from my sleep, only to wrench it away from me in the harsh light of day.
My groan of anguish is muffled by the pillow and I tug at my hair in the hope that I can dull the emotional turmoil that is coursing through my veins and replace it with physical pain instead. It doesn't work though. It never does.
I sit up slowly, adjusting my eyes to the harsh glare of the sun. I drag my screwed up fists over my eyes and will myself to move, to get up out of bed and face the day ahead. I blink rapidly and squint at the clock on my bedside table.
7:38.
That means I have two hours and eighteen minutes to dull my senses enough to get through the day. Two hours and eighteen minutes until people start offering condolences and sincere apologies at my loss. Two hours and eighteen minutes to try and figure out how I am going to find the strength to say goodbye to the one person that truly mattered to me. Two hours and eighteen minutes until I have to say goodbye to the little angel that never was.
A shudder takes hold of my body as searing pain burns at my soul, branding me forever with its hot, greedy mark. I stumble out of bed and run to the corner of the room just in time to dry heave up the lining of my stomach into the trash can. I hug it to me as though it holds some sort of solace. I take deep wracking breaths trying to make the panic that shrouds my mind subside.
I wedge myself into the space between my overflowing book case and the neglected desk, trying to fight away the nausea. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, like my shrink keeps telling me, trying to keep the panic attack that is threatening to swallow me up at bay.
That's it Bella, breathe in...Breathe out...breathe in...Breathe out.
I hear his voice inside my mind. It's the only thing that has the power to talk me off the ledge that I am so precariously balanced on. It's like the sweetest melody, reminding me to breathe, reminding me to continue, to fight, and to not give up.
I close my eyes and tilt my head back against the wall, succumbing to his dulcet tones. They calm the storm brewing within me.
"Edward," I whisper his name softly. I've taken up talking to him, hoping that he can hear me up there. It helps me feel closer to him, closer to love, closer to happiness.
"I can't do this. I miss you so much that it takes my breath away. Every time I feel like I'm almost there, like I'm almost ok, it hits me again with the weight of a thousand men. It knocks me off my feet and pushes me over the edge until I'm a blubbering mess. I can't function without you."
As soon as the words leave my mouth I feel lighter, only marginally but still, the burden eases slightly. I continue to talk to him purging my broken heart with my declarations. It's like the soft lilac walls of my small bedroom soak up all of my words and act as a comfort blanket, enveloping me in its embrace. It might sound silly to you but it's the only way I can keep a hold of my sanity. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy with grief. Maybe I am crazy, after all I do talk to myself in my bedroom and I hear voices. Well a voice, his voice. It soothes me, lulling me into brief glimpses of happiness.
Baby bell.
Those two whispered words calm me like no others. The familiar endearment was one that I used to take for granted. I'd giggle at him for being so silly and lecture him on the differences between me and the small circles of cheese. I'm not cheese, Edward, I don't smell like it or taste like it, I'd say as I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth. And he'd grab me and tickle me relentlessly until my sides hurt and I struggled to breathe, and then he'd whisper in my ear so softly, tickling my skin with his words, no but you're my baby bell and I'd eat you every day for the rest of my life. To which I would feign disgust and hit him on the shoulder and tell him how he's such a guy. The memory helps distract me and my breathing steadies slightly.
See, look how well you're doing. I watch over you always and I'm so proud of you for not giving up. You're too beautiful and too special to give up on life. You've barely lived, baby bell.
His voice floats around in my head. He feels so close, like I could just reach out my fingers and he'd be there, just outside of my grasp. I can see him shaking his head at me as I try in vain to touch him, to hold onto him and never let him go.
"I don't want to live without you, it's too hard and it hurts too much. Please just take me with you," My voice is hoarse with unshed tears.
No baby bell, you can't come with me. We've been through this before; the world isn't ready for you to leave. The big guy has bigger and better things in store for you, you have to keep going, for me baby bell, please. Please keep trying. Angel and I will be here, waiting for you.
At the mention of our little angel my heart breaks all over again. Silent tears spill out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks, leaving paths of desolation on my skin.
A gentle tap on the door pulls me out of my reverie and brings me back to reality with a bang.
I open my eyes and look up, seeing the soft features of my mother's face twisted in torment as she watches me, her only daughter.
"Baby girl, I thought I heard you talking. Are you ok?"
I look at her with my watery eyes, my vision blurred and broken, just like me. A sob tears through me and in the blink of an eye my mom is there, huddling me up in her arms, rocking me back and forth as she whispers soothing words into my ear.
"I-I...I d-d-d-don't...I can't..." I can't catch my breath long enough to speak.
"Shhhh, baby girl I know. I know." She continues to rock me back and forth for what seems like an eternity, until my breathing becomes shallow, my body a shuddering mess.
"I miss him, and I miss her. I just, I just don't understand. What did I do? I didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve this. She didn't even get a chance to live. Every time I manage to catch my breath, every time I think I can do this, it hits me all over again, sucking me in, pulling me under. How is it ever going to get better? When is it ever going to get better?"
My words and tears mingle together and seep into the sleeve of Renee's black dress. She places her hands on either side of my cheeks and pulls my head up, forcing me to look her in the eye.
"You listen to me and you listen to me good. You, you are so strong sweetheart, stronger than you think, stronger than me that's for sure. When I was your age I didn't have half of the things you've had to contend with. Sure, I had more than most what with being pregnant with you and being trapped in a place I didn't belong but you – you've dealt with more than most people have to deal with in their lifetime. You've lost your true love, you've lost your baby, and your whole world is upside down right now. But you've shown more strength and courage than I thought possible, you're still here. You're still trying. You're so brave and you're doing so well. Today will be hard but from here on in it can only get better. Trust me. You'll see."
I see the tears brimming in her eyes and I see the pity in them too.
"Today, you get to say goodbye. You get to celebrate the life of Eddie, you get to stand with everyone that mattered to him, and to rejoice in all the things you shared, all of the memories you made. They will always be with you, cherish them with all your heart and never let them go. You were lucky enough to meet that one person that was made for you; he was your other half, your soul mate. Some people don't ever find that special someone but you did. It was cut short, and that is heartbreaking but baby, it was real. Let it help you, let it heal you and move on sweety. It might seem impossible now but trust me, time heals all wounds. One day you will look back and feel happy that you experienced the greatest gift of all, love."
I stare off into space just soaking in her words. Deep down I know that she is probably right but for now I feel like I'm slowly dying inside. I can see Renee's lips moving out of the corner of my eye but I can't hear her, I've turned her out.
There's a steady rasping on the door downstairs and Renee goes to answer it, early well wishers I presume. I hear muttered whisperings and movement downstairs and then I hear soft footsteps outside my bedroom, they falter outside my door and the loose floorboard directly outside my room creaks under the weight.
Another smile ghosts over my lips as the squeaky floorboard opens up a floodgate of memories. That was the noise I heard every time Edward stayed over in the 'guest room'. Renee, never one for rules, had only one. If he stayed he wasn't allowed in my room. I guess it was her naive way of trying to make sure I didn't follow in her footsteps of teenage pregnancy. Ha, not that that ever deterred us. Obviously, trying to stop two horny and hormonal sixteen year olds was futile. There was many a time when Edward would sneak down the hallway once Renee and Phil were sleeping in an attempt to deflower me of my innocence. The screeching groan of the floorboard echoed through the house, threatening to ruin his cunning plans but it never did.
I remember the first time like it was yesterday.
We had been best friends ever since the first day of kindergarten. He had come to my aid after I dropped my chocolate milk, spilling it all over the floor. I remember the tears springing to my eyes and the burning in my throat as I tried to quell the urge to cry. Hey, don't cry he had said gently as he haphazardly mopped up the spillage with paper towels, its ok, he had assured me. I remember telling him how it was the only drink I had and that surely I would die of thirst by the time my mom came to pick me up at the end of the day. He had chuckled at me then and I looked to my left, and at him, for the first time. Even then, at five years old, I remember being taking aback by the copper haired boy and his dazzling beauty. This angelic face had grinned up at me, melting my short lived anger of him mocking me, and replacing it with hundreds of tiny little fluttering butterflies. I was Isabella Swan and I was in love. He introduced himself telling me that he was Eddie Masen and that he had plenty of drink that I could share. From that day on we were inseparable. He was my best friend and, in time, he became my one and only love.
Nine years of innocent friendship naturally progressed into lustful teenage love with a little shove from our raging hormones and at fourteen we had declared ourselves as each other's one and only true love. It was my sixteenth birthday and Eddie had been allowed to stay over for the first time, albeit in separate rooms. The house was shrouded in darkness except for the illuminated numbers on my bedside clock telling me it was 11:58 pm. It was almost my birthday. Eddie had promised that he was going to sneak into my room and give me the best birthday present ever, one that I would never forget. I remember waiting with baited breath, giddy with excitement and wondering what it could be. I remember the creaking floorboard and the way it made my heart beat out of my chest with anticipation. I remember the way he looked, basked in the moonlight pouring in through my bedroom window but mostly I remember the look in his eyes as he slid inside me for the first time and the words he whispered in my ear as he made love to me, "Isabella Marie Swan, I promise to love you for every moment of forever."
I was so lost in my memories of him, of us, that I didn't realise anyone had walked into the room until I felt the bed dip with weight as someone sat down next to me on my bed. I felt an arm snake around my waist on either side. I breathed in deeply, getting lost in the scents that were so uniquely Alice and Rosalie. They make me thankful for Phil and how he stumbled across the path of my erratic hair brained mom. They had been married for three years now and his daughters', Alice and Rosalie, had become not only my step-sisters, but my best friends. Without them I don't think I would have survived.
Alice and Rosalie couldn't be more different. Alice barely reached five foot, with short, spiky black hair, coupling with her dainty, pale features to make her resemble a dark haired version of tinker bell. Her small frame directly juxtaposes her huge personality. She has got to be the loudest, most bubbly girl I have ever happened to come across. She's all excitement and enthusiasm and bounces around on cloud nine. Whereas Alice is always the optimist, Rosalie is always the pessimist. She is the exact opposite of Alice, leggy and tan with beautiful, long, blond hair; she is the epitome of gorgeous. To those that don't know her she appears cool and aloof. She has the touch of the ice maiden about her and can always be relied on to speak the truth. People think she's a bitch, and yes she may well be, but she's my bitch and I love her for it. Alice is soft and innocence and Rosalie is tough and worldly.
I find calm in Alice's embrace. I rest my head on her shoulder and look up at her. Her face is haunted by sadness and if there were any piece of my heart left unbroken it would have crumbled.
"Bella, do you want us to help you get ready? We need to leave in half an hour for the service. Let us help you my lovely, love."
I closed my eyes and nod my head slowly; resigned to face the shitty hand I had been dealt.
