.: FIGURE:.
Bella,
I don't know why you're making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we're in second grade. If I wanted to talk to you I would answer the-
You made the choice here, okay? You can't have it both ways when-
What part of 'mortal enemies' is too complicated for you to-
Look, I know I'm being a jerk, but there's just no way around-
We can't be friends when you're spending all you time with a bunch of-
It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don't write anymore-
Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry.
Jacob.
-Note from Jacob to Bella in Eclipse, chapter one.
"Dinner's going to be ready soon, okay Bella?" Charlie spoke suddenly from my open doorway, and I glanced up from where I was reading Jacob's note in surprise. I hadn't heard him ascend, which was strange, as the Fork's house was old and full of rotting, creaking floorboards. His face was disapproving as he studied my own, his dark brown eyebrows pulled together on his wrinkling forehead, his lips pursed into a tight line. His normally warm chocolate eyes were frozen solid – not in anger, exactly, but not something nice either.
"Sure." I murmured quietly, giving him tiny smile. I figured that if I played the demure and apologetic daughter, Charlie might just forgive me for the motorbikes sometime this decade. The tension over my running off to Italy with Alice would take longer to dissipate, but there was nothing I could do about that one. Charlie could never know the true reason behind my 'irresponsibility.' It would put him on a death list not even the Cullen's could free him from. I hid a shudder at the thought.
His expression melted slightly, and he gave me a small smile in return, before slumping against the pale wooden frame with a suppressed groan, his arms crossing over his steadily-expanding stomach.
"Actually, Bells, I wanted to talk to you about something." He began, and I felt myself cringe internally. This was never a good sign.
"What about, Dad?" I asked, remembering to call him by his preferred title. I ran a hand nervously through my dark hair, wincing when it snared on a knot at the back of my neck.
"Well, I'm sorry to bring this up again, but I… I want to talk about Jacob."
I groaned, unable to stop myself, and slumped down further into the cushion on my chair, hating with reverence the conversation which was surely about to follow.
"Char- Dad – we've talked about this already." I moaned, and he sighed, looking down at his bare and hairy feet.
"I know, Bella, but I'm going to talk about it again." He replied firmly, his expression turning from sheepish to serious. "You two used to be joined at the hip, and now you barely talk!"
"We do talk." I argued, nodding towards the note, which lay flat on my oak desk, still creased from Charlie's pocket. He glanced at it with an expression crossed between disdain and amusement, before shaking his head.
"No, Bella. That doesn't count. I mean talk face to face."
"I know, Dad, but... things are difficult now." I said quietly, hiding behind a dark curtain of hair. I fixed my gaze on my hands, entwined in my lap, and continued staring until my vision turned blurry. "I can't really see him anymore, okay?" I whispered again, and I heard Charlie sigh in frustration from the doorway. The backs of my eyes prickled with the familiar sensation of tears at the unfairness of it all. It wasn't exactly my fault – this situation. I didn't want to continuously blow Jacob off – he was my best friend after all. But Edward was my boyfriend, my fiancée, and when it came down to it I would chose his company over Jacob's any day.
"You can't see him, because of Edward." Charlie finished, as if mind-reading was his talent, not the one of whose name was spoken with such discontent. Charlie was still furious at Edward for leaving me last fall – understandably, Edward assured me, as it had hurt my father greatly to see me in my zombie-like state. Even so, I thought that banning Edward from coming through our door outside of 'visiting hours' was bordering on extreme. I guess that's what comes from being a cop.
"He's not good for you, Bella." Charlie began, and I felt the rarity of irritation flare from somewhere deep inside of me. We had been down this road too many times before.
"Yeah, and Jacob is perfect." I retaliated, with a little more bite than I had intended. Charlie looked taken aback at my outbreak, and I felt a surge of guilt, towards both him and Jacob. "I mean, what about the motorbikes? Jacob was a part of that." I began more calmly, and I saw that I had caught him out by the expression in his eyes.
"True, and I'm furious at him for those I assure you, but I still think that you should see him."
"I want to see him." I mumbled to myself, not intending for Charlie to hear. I didn't need him thinking Edward controlling and demanding as well as unsuitable.
"Billy says he seems really down." He continued, and the guilt multiplied. "He says Jacob can't stop thinking about you."
I groaned and let my head drop into my hands. Why was it that the Pack and the Cullen's couldn't just let bygones be bygones? The Cullen's posed no threat to the safety of the population, and Sam was fine as long as the vampires stayed on their side of the treaty. So why was there all of this hate?
"I'm not telling you to stop seeing Edward – I know I can't do that - but just think about what I'm saying." Charlie pleaded softly, and I felt myself nodding numbly, unsure of where the reaction was even coming from.
"Fine. I'll try, okay?" I murmured, and Charlie looked grateful.
"That's all I'm asking."
Relieving, because that was all that I could promise.
"Anyway," Charlie said brightly, his solemn mood snatched away like the soul of a believer in the rapture. "Dinner must be ready by now. Come on down."
"Coming in a minute." I replied with an unsteady smile, which surely looked as fake as it felt. My acting skills surprised me for once, as Charlie beamed back, before heading down the stairs, the old creaking with the pressure of his step.
"Don't be long!" He called.
I quickly grabbed Jacob's note and folded it into a neat square, before shuffling over to my side-table and stuffing it in the draw which was being used as a temporary holding space for all of our exchanged notes. I felt a lump accumulate in my throat as I saw how big the pile was getting, before I slammed the draw shut again with unnecessary force. Turning my back to the table, I scanned the room for any more Jacob related items. I spotted a forgotten note lingering on the windowsill, next to my newly refilled birthday scrapbook, and leaped over to retrieve it. I hesitated, and skimmed through it quickly, feeling my throat constrict at the angry words. Charlie was right – now that I thought of it, Jacob did seem unusually melancholic…
A quick flash of vibrant red from out of the window suddenly caught my eye, and I looked up just in time to see a figure disappear into the trees. It was hiking season in Forks, and I could often see stray tourists lingering in the woods from the house. Still, I thought suddenly – pausing – it was getting pretty late, and it was unusual to see people out after sunset…
"Bella! It's growing cold!" Charlie called loudly from downstairs, and I shook my head, dismissing my discomfort for paranoia. I obviously had the supernatural and the strange on the brain.
"I'm coming!" I called back, giving one final glance around my room, before skittering out of the door and down the stairs. I stumbled on the last stair and grabbed at the handrail, just as the overwhelming stench of burned Pasta hit me in the face like a sucker-punch. I composed myself, and went into the garishly bright painted kitchen, refraining from wrinkling my nose at the smell.
"Quick, before it cools." Charlie urged me, as he handed me a plate piled high with clumpy, sticky, and overcooked noodles. He tossed me the can of bolognaise from the counter, and I mixed in extra for damage control, before setting my plate down on the faded green table.
We ate in silence, as per usual, but the atmosphere wasn't awkward which was a nice change. I absent-mindedly stabbed at the spaghetti clumps, contemplating Charlie's earlier words.
I did want to see Jacob – really. But it was next to impossible with the current situation. Charlie knew about the tension between the Cullen's and the Quileute's, but had only ever been told about the old Indian Stories – not the supernatural involvement. Edward seemed intent on keeping me away from the wolves, for the sake of my health and safety, and as he was a vampire there seemed to be no possible way to escape his gaze for even a few hours and sneak across the border. The only thing I had going for me was that he couldn't read my mind, and so couldn't ever know that I intended to try just that.
"Disgusting!" Charlie barked roughly, and suddenly, making me drop my fork in surprise, little splatters of sauce going up my top. Fortunately, it was black.
"It's not so bad, Dad." I came quickly to his defence, presuming he was objecting to his cooking. "A little overcooked, yes, but with enough sauce-"
"I wasn't talking about the food, Bella." Charlie interrupted me, looking rueful. I blushed, unsure what to say, and stared down at the next-to-untouched pasta congealing in horrible patterns on my plate.
"I was talking about this." Charlie complained, punctuating the final word by slapping a newspaper down in front of me. A yellowing corner dipped into my food, and it went unnoticed but to me. I scanned the flaky font of the front page, my eyes immediately drawn to the bold and protruding headline stamped right at the very top:
DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE:
POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY
"Oh. That." I said quietly.
For the past few weeks, Seattle had been plagued by a series of seemingly random murders. The victims were different in every category, and each body that had been found was in a different district to the other. There were a few that the police hadn't yet come across, however.
"It's disgusting." Charlie muttered darkly for the second time, his eyebrows mashing together on his forehead. "That's why you'll never get me living in a city. Can you imagine living with this!"
"Yes, Dad, I've lived in a city before, remember? One with a much higher death rate – and look! I'm fine." I pointed out with a mock patronizing tone.
In actual fact, I had come closer to dying in small little Forks than in Phoenix – but that wasn't a point I could put forward to Charlie.
"You couldn't pay me enough." He grumbled, and I rolled my eyes before scooping up our plates.
"I'll wash up." I offered, and Charlie nodded gratefully.
"If that's okay, Bells. There's a big game on tonight."
"Sure, go watch. I've got nothing else to day anyway." Charlie must have heard the disappointment lacing my words, as he raised an eyebrow and glanced in my direction.
"No Edward tonight?" Despite his best efforts, Charlie couldn't disguise the glee in his tone, and I glared at him in warning.
"No. He's busy."
Every two weeks or so, Edward had to disappear to hunt. I knew it was mandatory, of course, but I still dreaded those few days where he was gone. My only comfort was that he probably felt the same way.
Charlie nodded, barely containing a smile.
"I'm going to bed." I snapped suddenly, dropping the plates in the sink so that they clattered against the metal. A few drops of soapy water splashed out and onto the hideous yellow counters. I really didn't want to stay up and watch Charlie relish in the lack of Edward's presence. Why was it that each person I loved seemed to hate the other? My forehead furrowed at how unjust it was.
"Well, goodnight then, Bells." Charlie muttered awkwardly, and I nodded in his direction, before rushing towards the stairs.
"I'll wash up tomorrow." I promised over my shoulder, before ascending, entering my room, and throwing myself down on my bed. I briefly considered screaming into my pillow, but I didn't want to alert Charlie. I settled for gazing mournfully around my room instead.
It really wasn't fair – how much pressure was being put on me. I never asked for the Cullens and the Pack to get all defensive on one another, and I certainly never asked Edward to leave last fall either. So why did it feel like I was the one responsible for all of the negative feeling swirling around. I sighed a long and drawn out breath, before resting my eyes on a few pictures taped to the baby blue walls above my desk. They showed various shots of me and my friends from school in the times when it seemed everything was going to work out. Before my destructive birthday party, before Edward leaving, before the Volturi and before a silent feud began to simmer between two of the people I loved the most.
I felt yet another pang of guilt as I studied some of the faces in the pictures. I hadn't seen Angela in a long time, or her devoted boyfriend Ben. Mike would appreciate a visit too, although for reasons I didn't particularly want to dwell on. My gaze flicked to a pale face framed with a mass of curly brown hair, and I felt my shoulders sag. Jessica had never gotten over the incident with the strangers after our movie night in Seattle. She had well and truly joined forces with the likes of Lauren Mallory and her anti-Bella regime.
"Not fair." I whispered again, a lump forming in my throat. If only they knew what I was, and had been, going through.
I jumped out of bed quickly, and pulled myself out of my clothes, discarding them in a messy pile on the floor. I quickly pulled on a pair of pyjamas, before noticing the curtains on my window were still open. Thank goodness I faced a forest, I thought gratefully, before going over and tugging on the fabric. One of the curtains jammed on the rail, and I peered up to see what was sticking…
And then saw it. A figure. Outside in the woods, just under the cover of the trees.
I fell back instinctively, a scream threatening to rip from my throat as I did so, my eyes widening in fear. I inched forwards again, slowly, and my heart hammered in my chest - feeling as if it would burst through.
The figure remained, their face in shadow – looking as if they were staring right up at me.
"Charlie!" I called loudly, looking back over my shoulder. No reply. "Charlie!" I tried again, louder this time, and the faint strains of sound from the TV cut off suddenly.
"Bella?" I heard his anxious tone, and then the thumping of fast moving feet on the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"There's this…" I began, whirling back to look out of the window. "There's this, person outside my window."
"A person?" Charlie breathed incredulously, rushing to my side.
"Yeah, right there, look-" I motioned towards where the figure had been, before cutting off, the words dying in my throat.
They were gone.
"I don't see anyone." Charlie admitted, squinting as he peered out through the frosted glass.
"They're gone!" I breathed, a shiver running down my spine. "They were just there, and now they're gone."
We kept our positions quietly, barely breathing, waiting for the re-appearance of the mystery person. After five minutes passed, Charlie let out a breath and took a step back.
"Look, Bella, I don't see anyone, but I'll go and take a look outside if you want me to."
"No!" I cried, grabbing his arm. I really didn't want him going outside when there was a potential stalker on the loose. "It's fine. They're gone."
"But they shouldn't have been there is the first place." Charlie demanded, pulling himself free. He marched over to the door, a new purpose in his step, and I wracked my brain for any excuse to get him to stay.
"Maybe I imagined it." I blurted out suddenly, and he froze, looking back. "I mean, we were just talking about killers on the loose in Seattle so…" I swallowed. "It's probably just my over reactive imagination."
Charlie didn't look too convinced.
"Please?" I begged, trying a different approach. "Even if it was a person, what can they do? I'm all the way up here and the doors are locked."
Charlie held my gaze for a few seconds, his expression indecisive.
"If you're sure you're okay." He said finally, and I breathed a long but subtle sigh of relief.
"I'm sure. Positive." I said quickly, trying to keep my tone level. "I'm probably just tired." I added for extra effect, and Charlie nodded reluctantly.
"Okay, Bells. Just call if you need me." He warned, before backing slowly out of the door, his expression wary.
"Night!" I called with faux-brightness. I waited until the sound of his receding footsteps disappeared altogether, and the TV blared back into life, before sagging down onto my mattress. Convincing Charlie that no mysterious figure had been present was foolish, I knew, but if it stopped him from putting himself in a potentially risky situation then I was willing to act irrationally. Maybe the figure had been an illusion anyway… maybe, but not likely. Either way, I could deal with it. Just a peeping Tom. Probably. Or maybe the same tourist I'd seen earlier? On both occasions I'd seen a flash of red…
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, I pulled down the faded blue duvet on my bed, and snuggled down under the covers, the sheets pulled right up under my chin. I shivered in the cold, and curled into a ball, my muscles stiff with both fear and anticipation. What I was anticipating, I didn't know, but the feelings lasted right up until I eventually nodded up, accompanied by the painful suspicion that there was more to this figure than I was making myself believe.
So this was the first official chapter of Little Dragon, as the full summary obviously didn't count. Please submit your reviews, it only takes a few seconds, so I can a good idea of what the response is going to be like. If it is poor, I will discontinue it. Simple as that.
Love,
RVL