Disclaimer: All characters belonging to SM.
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"Bella. We're here."
I cracked open one eye to glare at whoever dared to disturb me as I came out of my trance, yet another one of my half-dreams, my face still pressed against the window of the backseat.
Charlie shook me gently again. "Come on, Bella. Get up. Look outside, we're here."
I rubbed my red-rimmed eyes and stretched my cramped limbs. I stole a quick glance at the house we had pulled up in front of in Charlie's police cruiser and unbuckled my seatbelt. The car ride from the airport had been long and silent, and I had been wide awake and a little too jumpy on the plane. I reluctantly stepped out of the car, blinking in the grayish light of the early afternoon, thankful the weather hadn't changed much since I was last here, and would be consistently gloomy save for a few weeks of sunlight year round. I looked at my surroundings – the house, the empty road, the woods next to the house – yes, this was Forks as I vaguely remembered it. And now this was home.
After I had meticulously unpacked my belongings into my old room upstairs and taken a much-needed shower, I went downstairs looking for Charlie. He was, as expected, sitting in the living room, sifting through a photo album from many, many years ago. He looked over at me and I came and sat next to him on the worn-out couch. I silently watched as he slowly went through each page with tremendous care, tracing his index finger along the edges of the faded photographs. He had stopped at the last page, his finger poised on the edge of a Polaroid of him and Renee in front of a beautiful mountain view, her arms wrapped around his waist. He was grinning hugely as though he had just won first prize in the county fair, Renee looking blissful.
Renee. I felt a little ache in my chest and looked away.
After several minutes, Charlie sighed and closed the album, tucking it carefully back in the sparsely stocked bookshelf beside the couch. He turned to look at me.
"It's been a while since you've been here, Bella. I always hoped you would come and stay here with me, to keep me company. I guess now I got my wish," he gazed at me sadly and lightly rested his hand on my forearm. "But I didn't want it to be like this. For you to…"
A shadow passed over my face and he immediately withdrew his hand. He didn't bother finishing his sentence. This was how most of our conversations had gone since we left Phoenix.
He had only really come to Phoenix in the first place to visit and "babysit" me for a week while Renee and Phil were off to some minor-league baseball event up in Scottsdale. I had never known Charlie very well – yes, he was my father, but he had never been around when I was growing up. I would only visit him maybe two or three weeks per year.
When Phil moved in, everything changed, and I started to really hate living in the same house as him and Renee. Eventually, her motherly instincts kicked in and she finally noticed that I was spending more and more time locked up in my room. Out of worry, Renee asked Charlie to come down to Arizona to hang out with me while she was away. I guess she never anticipated that he was going to be followed. But I guess he didn't either.
And, as it happens, I still wasn't ready to talk about it like that yet. Once Charlie had been able to properly explain to me what had happened to me and what we had to do, all I asked for was the basics: what exactly had I turned into, how long did I need to be kept under close supervision before I was allowed to resume a normal life – or as close to normal as I could manage, what to do until then, and what to do when I got thirsty.
Thirsty wasn't really the right word for it, though. Since I woke up a month and two weeks ago, it has been more along the lines of, well, ravenous.
The first two weeks had been the worst. They wouldn't let me out anywhere. I guess I could understand that, I had been half-crazed and completely dying of thirst. All I can really remember was that their faces, that room, absolutely everything was in a haze of red. And the worst part was, there hadn't been any relief to my temporary insanity. Never. It was like a nightmare, but I wasn't sleeping – because I couldn't – and it never went away.
It took a month for me to learn to sort of control my thirst. They told me I had a gift, a gift of some kind of self-control that practically saved me from a good year or two of fighting myself, fighting the urge to kill every human that had the misfortune of me catching their scent. Of course I wanted them, and the thirst burned like fire, but now I could almost swallow the pain entirely and coexist with what would have been my prey. I could live – well, if you can call it living – and never kill a human. Animals could be enough to last me forever. They have to be.
But still, ever since I changed, I have been aching for blood. The smell of it alone makes my mouth water and I can taste the venom on my tongue, and it sickens me. I sicken myself. The fact that I couldn't even handle hugging my mother goodbye when I practically fled my home and life in Phoenix pains me every day. I hate myself for what I've become, but so help me, if I have to live this way, I will do it right. No one is going to get hurt.
I got up from the couch, and before turning to walk out the front door towards the woods, I gave Charlie a meaningful look, the best forgiving look I could muster. He needed to know I still love him, and God knows I try.
I swiftly stalked out the front door and broke into a quick jog into the woods. I gulped down the burning sensation growing in my throat and let my senses take over. I almost immediately picked up a scent and followed it, winding through trees deeper and deeper into the forest. I knew it could be hours before I felt I was strong enough to return – unfortunately, I had to start going back to school tomorrow and I needed every last drop I could swallow.
When I got home later that night I was taken by surprise. As I trudged up to Charlie's gravel driveway, I took notice of another car parked next to Charlie's cruiser and the old beat-up truck he had kept in considerable repair for as long as I had known him. I hopped up the front steps and opened the door cautiously, peering in the front hallway into the kitchen.
Billy Black sat with my father at the kitchen table, Charlie leaning attentively towards him as he spoke in a subdued, husky tone. They all looked up sharply when I stepped into the room.
Billy studied my face for a long time, a carefully masked expression on his face, obviously making in effort to look at me as impassively as possible. I wavered a little at his stare and turned to look questioningly at Charlie. He quickly cleared his throat and Billy broke his gaze to look at him.
"Bella," Charlie greeted uncertainly, nodding towards me, "you remember Billy and Jacob Black," motioning towards Billy and his son, who had been leaning on the counter behind them, straightening up as he was addressed. Jacob made no effort to conceal his shock as he looked into my widened, reddish topaz eyes. He took an unsteady step back and balanced himself by resting his hand on the back of Charlie's chair. I was feeling more uncomfortable by the second. What is going on?
"Uh, yeah," I spoke hastily, looking down as I played with the hem of my shirt, "Nice to see you again."
"It's…" Jacob replied warily in a voice much like his father's, "It's good to have you back, Bella. Haven't seen you in ages," He managed a small smile as he watched me with curious, dark eyes.
I tugged at a strand of my hair and looked at Charlie anxiously. What are they doing here? What was Charlie's explanation for why I'm here? Billy's strange look only confirmed my suspicions. They knew something was off. What should I do? Should I run? Charlie knows I'm no good at lying…
As if right on cue, Billy spoke up, making eye contact with Charlie although he addressed me, as if expecting to be stopped at any time. "Bella, your father informed us of your… condition."
I froze in shock.
He didn't.
Unwavering, Billy continued. "As you know, I have been a friend to Charlie for many years and I know he had handled himself with nothing less than perfect behavior since he settled in Forks. I am confident," he said, now turning to me with a mixture of sympathy and expectation, "that he will raise you in your new life to do the same. Jacob and I are aware your first month has been difficult, yet miraculously successful when it comes to matters of finding proper…" he seemed to struggle with his words for a second, "…sustenance. But your father seems to be assured that in a short time, you will become completely under your own control again and resume the closest thing to your circadian cycle. And so," placing his folded hands on the table and setting his intense gaze on me again, "Jacob and I will be here for you wherever and whenever you need us. Please don't hesitate to contact us at any time while you…" he hesitated, "settle in."
I took turns starting at him and my father in disbelief.
A million thoughts buzzed through my head, but only one question made it through: "You know about us?"
Billy's calm expression did not change. "As I said before, I have been a friend to Charlie for many years. I have known for a long time who he really is – " he broke off to cast Charlie a complaisant glance, " – and how he has to live. I have accepted these things with the knowledge that he is no threat to me, my family, or anyone else living in Forks. And I can accept you, too, if you choose to remain harmless to us and the people of this town."
I fidgeted where I stood and wrung my hands, searching for the best way to help him understand. I didn't know myself anymore, and I doubt Charlie really did either. How could I agree to what they were saying? I was not the perfectly behaved… vampire – I hated using the word – … which Charlie was. I was still trying to figure all of this out. How could they expect me to live a normal life in Forks as if I wasn't the monster I truly was? How could they be so certain I wasn't going to snap at any given moment and tear this town apart?
I hated that I even had to ask myself these questions.
But I knew I had to try my best. Not for them – not even for Charlie. If I was going to struggle against myself to keep my neighbors and distant family friends out of harm's way and learn to control my extreme strengths and weaknesses for the sake of normalcy, I'd be doing it for Renee. After leaving her, I owed her that much, at least.
I looked up at Billy and Jacob with a new fire of determination in my eyes. I knew I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and what horrors might await me in the near future as my changed self, but if I was going to live like this, I wouldn't be a villain. At my very best, I would be a slightly disturbed junior in high school, retaining as much mystery shrouding my personal life as I possibly could.
High school. Now that is going to be a trip.
I shook off the pessimistic ideas I had of what my first day at the new school would be like and shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to maintain eye contact with Billy as I spoke softly.
"I wont let you guys down."
Billy smiled warmly, relief washing over his features. Jacob remained standing far from me, gazing at me with interest and awe. I returned his gaze and managed a tight smile.
"Jacob," Billy said suddenly, turning to look at his son, "we should probably get going and let Charlie and Bella rest. They must be exhausted from their trip." He began wheeling himself away from the kitchen table and Jacob was swiftly behind him, pushing his worn wheelchair forward and past me towards the front door. Billy touched my hand lightly as he passed me, "see you soon, Bella." He abruptly pulled his hand away, slightly wincing at the icy marble of my skin. Internally, I winced a little too. My ridiculously low body temperature probably made my touch cause normal humans to prickle with cold, making me feel even less human than I already was.
As soon as they were out the door and out of earshot, I turned to Charlie and opened my mouth to speak, but he raised a hand to silence me.
"I know, Bells, I should have warned you I was going to let the Blacks in on this. I'm sorry. But they are very close friends of mine, so I'd appreciate it if you just allow them to be in the know about your progress here," he looked at me pleadingly, "because they just want what's best for you. Like me."
I looked into his rueful eyes and felt a knotting in my stomach. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel worse than he already did.
"I know, Ch-…Dad. I know. And I'm not angry with you," I added, "…about any of this. I know you're still feeling guilty. But I'm going to be okay. Promise," I forced a half-hearted smile. "I'm going to pull it together and life will go on."
"This isn't the life I wanted for you," he suddenly seethed, shooting up from his chair and pacing the floor angrily. "I can't believe I let this happen," his brought his fist down furiously on the counter, causing it to dent and crack into pieces beneath his clenched hand. "My only child… forced to live in this purgatory…"
He whirled around to face me again, stepping forward and putting his hands on my shoulders. I cringed a little under this sudden gesture. After the incident, I still didn't like being touched, by men especially. "I'm so sorry, Bella," he said, eyes full of sadness, "I will never let anyone hurt you again. You're safe with me now and I will be the best damn father I can be."
I gently removed Charlie's hands from my shoulders, giving them a quick pat before I let them fall to his sides. "You don't have to keep apologizing, Dad. It wasn't your fault."
Charlie gazed at me agonizingly and then went to sit down at the table, putting his head in his hands and sighing. "You should probably go to your room and rest, Bells. You're starting school tomorrow," he mumbled.
I looked down at my feet and bit my lip at the very thought. School was going to be a trial. And Charlie was right; I needed the rest.
I gave him a parting glance and padded upstairs to my room. The lights were off save for one lamp on an old hand-me-down desk from Charlie that he had brought down from the attic. It was a little dusty but in fairly good shape. I plopped down in the chair and opened up my only carry-on from the flight early this morning: a shoddy old, green Jansport backpack. I pulled out my tattered copy of Wuthering Heights and began reading.
" 'On the morrow, I was sad; partly because you were poorly, and partly because that I wished my father knew, and approved of my excursions: but it was beautiful moonlight after tea; and, as I rode on, the gloom cleared. I shall have another happy evening, I thought to myself; and what delights me more, my pretty Linton will…' "
And then, in a flash, the reverie struck me full-force.
It was the dead of night, and I was sprinting through the woods.
Branches and limbs whipped at my face as I neared a clearing – and there it was, the huge, white house I had been searching for.
I scrambled to the side of the house and scaled its side, hoisting myself onto a balcony. My heart, had it been able to beat, would be skipping out of my chest, pulse racing as I stood there on the balcony, waiting.
I saw my reflection in the glass of the screen door: a soft, pale white face with wide golden eyes framed by dark tresses that flowed down past my bare shoulders.
And then, the door slid open silently and a shadow emerged, arms reaching out for me, its eyes burning golden like my own…
Something made a loud clack as it hit the floor, and I started out of my trance. My eyes flew open, wildly searching the room as I scrambled to pick up my book.
It was so vivid. It was so… real.
And that was the night my real half-dreams began.