Disclaimer: Although I would love to take credit of SM's work, I am not her nor do I pretend to be. Let's face it, if I was then things would have ended very differently in the Twilight Series.
Neither Here, Nor There – Haunted
By Emberlyn Ealise
Just as it did every year, school started on a chilly Thursday around the middle of September in the town of Forks. It had been three days since the shock of the summer when I'd mistaken some random guy outside of my school as the love of my life, my sweet Edward. Looking back after having time to think about it and having talked it through with my dad I knew that it was merely the grief that caused the mistake.
Edward was dead and no amount of longing would return him to me.
Returning students had filled out the enrollment forms before Spring Break last semester, including me, but for some reason I thought to drive by the school around the time of late enrollment to have a look on my way home from retrieving a few notebooks and some pens from a nearby office supply store. A part of me wanted to prove that I could see the building, the parking lot, and the football field without be affected though it seemed another part of me had been looking for the exact opposite, longing for a hallucination. The latter half of my soul had not been disappointed and for that I spent an extra half hour emptying my stomach in the porcelain bowl on my first day of school.
Food hadn't even been an option that morning but that never seemed to keep the bile from rising in my throat. The lack of sustenance only made it worse because instead of the bad taste of pre-chewed toast I was stuck with the foul smell and burning sensation of stomach acid. Days like this had me fearing that the lining of my stomach might not even exist anymore.
Air whirled in my face wafting the smell of death in the most nauseating way as I flushed the remains and, at last, lay my head on the cool seat just in time to hear a knock on the bathroom door. "Bella, dear, are you alright?" questioned my mother timidly from the other side.
"Morning sickness," I answered in an attempt to be a normal smart mouthed teenager.
She sighed from her post outside the bathroom door mumbling something about sarcastic grandchildren and the apocalypse though I couldn't hear much. "Well, when you're done with that, brush your teeth and come find me downstairs. I'm driving you today."
Any other day I would have argued that I wasn't an invalid and could drive myself but even I was questioning my mental state. I made some noise of acknowledgment as I tried to peal my body off the floor."And change your shirt," mom called as she walked towards the stairs.
I looked down at my grey sweater to find what looked like drool mixed with baby poop just above my left breast. Mom had a weird way of knowing these things.
The sweater remained as I brushed my teeth and retied my hair into a band checking myself in the mirror. The figure returning my gaze looked like death. Her face was pale with dry, chapped lips and red tinted circles around grey eyes. Her vomit coated sweater looked two sizes too big hanging low over her dark denim jeans. The girl just didn't care, I knew the feeling well.
Unable to look too long at what I'd become I left the bathroom to change tops in my own room. It hadn't changed much over the summer. Rose and I had planned to paint, to brighten up the place, but circumstances prevented the activity. Neither of us had given any thought to her condition but mom intervened before we even bought the paint. There was a tentative paint date in the spring when her second semester would end.
Looking through my closet I was reminded of the botched shopping trip mom tried to force. She thought that by buying me a few new clothes I would forget about this aching crater in my heart and focus on matching shoes instead. It resulted in three plain sweaters, a pair of jeans, and a scene involving cheese fries in the Food Court where we were politely asked to leave.
In my defense, what kind of a guy hits on a girl when her mom leaves her to get a refill?
Reluctantly I removed my top careful not to let the remnants of my nervous outburst touch me before I tossed it behind me on the floor. There was a hamper not three feet away but I failed to understand the concept. Laundry in the laundry basket was an art lost on my generation.
Instead I grabbed a long sleeved, dark purple shirt with a hood and placed it over my head. The material was light enough to kept me from becoming overheated while the garment still hid me from view. I assumed I looked fine not wanting to deal with the face in the mirror if I checked. Depression caused a loss of too much weight when my grief turned into an inability to hold my food when I was emotional, which happened to be all of the time. If someone mentioned his name, wore his cologne, or called me 'Bunny' they would find me collapsed in a bathroom with a tear stained face.
Edward wasn't the only one to ever call me 'Bunny' but he had been the only one allowed. Just the mention of the word enticed a volatile reaction. I prayed that no one at school would try to console me though I didn't know who would. The only friends I had were either gone or hated me. I didn't need nor expect pity from strangers.
Wiping excess fluid from under my eyes I went down stairs to find mom in the kitchen. She looked at me for a minute with mixed emotions on her face though I didn't know if they were good or bad. I could tell that she was happy to see me functional and sad that I looked like a mental patient but everything else was lost to me.
"Are you ready?" she asked painting on the brave face we both needed. I nodded and followed her to the car grabbing my book bag resting next to the front door on my way to the passenger side of her four door sedan. As an only child I often wondered why she felt the need to invest in a 'mom car' but it seemed to suit her. Unlike my vehicle which was large and sturdy when I felt like a bicycle in desperate need of training wheels.
Music from her generation played through the speakers in the car, mementos of the late eighties when girl pants and eye liner was considered sexy. While I wasn't a fan I did agree with mom when she claimed that it was no worse than Emo nonsense my peers seemed to crave. It didn't take much to be better than that. We tried to make small talk but the close relationship we'd once had was strained. She couldn't understand how I could take Edward's death so hard for so long.
We'd been friends for most of our lives. I had pictures of an almost three year old Edward pushing my nearly two year old bottom on a swing, followed by picture of a seven year old Edward pushing me into the mud while his brother laughed. That was about the age when I became closer to his younger sister and stayed that way until he hit puberty. Leave it to hormones to turn a mean boy into a drooling buffoon.
But it wasn't just the loss of him that got to me. I was supposed to marry him, have children with him, and be Rosalie's bridesmaid when she married his brother. We were going to spend a year in Spain when we graduated college before coming home and living in a tiny apartment until we'd earned enough to build a house on the land his parents were planning to gift him and Emmett as graduation gifts. He wanted a daughter named Aurora Renee so that we could call her Rory. I wanted a son to carry his name though I swore I'd only ever call him Junior.
He took all of that with him.
"I'll be working until about three today so call if you're going to walk or get a ride with one of your friends," mom said breaking into my depressing bubble. "Otherwise, just wait and I'll be here a quarter after."
"Yeah, mom," I muttered digging through my bag for my class schedule only to come out empty handed. "Dammit."
"Something wrong?" mom asked not even surprised at my foul mouth.
"I can't find my time table," I huffed.
"I'm sure you can get another in the main office."
I knew she was trying to help but the oddest things would tick me off, like losing my time table, and mom saying anything at all only made it worse. "Whatever," I mumbled getting out and heading inside with my bag slung over one shoulder.
The ground didn't look particularly fascinating that morning but I stared at it anyway. Anything was better than a couple hundred beady little eyes watching to see if I would break apart. I wondered if it were the same for Alice hoping that she'd forgiven me and that we could have each others' backs until the school found something else to talk about. It was a long shot.
I pushed through the front door heading directly for the office. There were less people inside than out but that didn't make it any better. Everything was louder in the round including the whispers. I couldn't hear what was being said, I didn't want to, but I knew it was about me.
Poor Bella and her dead boyfriend.
The office was the only place truly quiet. Once inside I took a deep breath to collect myself and smiled back at the face of Ms. Cope who greeted me kindly. "Good morning, Miss Swan. Is there something I can help you with?"
I didn't attend one of those tiny schools where everyone knew everyone else. Ms. Cope just happened to have dated one of my favorite teachers from sophomore year and we'd developed an easy friendship of sorts. "I lost my schedule and thought maybe you could print me another?" I asked quietly. My emotions were running high and I couldn't trust my voice not to crack.
Her look of pity had me staring at the floor yet again as I walked closer to the counter. "Of course, dear, you wait right here." I was thankful she didn't try to talk to me about it. There wasn't much I could say and I didn't feel like spending the day convincing everyone that I was fine.
While she typed away on her computer I busied myself tracing letters on the laminate taped to the counter. It was some sort of guideline, hallway rules or the dress code. I wasn't paying much more attention than to the word 'excess' that I was recreating with my fingernail. My mind was a blank slate of serenity.
"Mason," I heard a familiar masculine voice to the right of me say.
"Right, let me look that up for you," said a cheery older female voice. I assumed it was one of the other office personnel but I didn't dare look.
A few seconds passed where only the sound of fingers hitting keys and my ever increasing pants could be heard as I worked diligently to convince myself that I'd heard wrong. It was wishful thinking that sounded like him, not the boy next to me. If only I could force my eyes to look in his direction to know for sure.
"Here we are, Anthony," stated the older women as the bell rang. "And here's a map of the school to help you get around. Your first class is in the west wing which is that way and you'll want to hurry so you're not late. If you have any trouble…"
The explanation was drowned out by Ms. Cope returning to her spot in front of me. "Here you are, dear. First period is with Coach Mann so you'll have to change fast or you'll be late. Do I need to write you a note?" Her tone hinted at concern but it didn't hold my focus.
"Thanks," muttered the angelic voice next to me and all suspicions were confirmed. I knew that sound. I knew that man. This was all just a big misunderstanding.
"No," I practically shouted at Ms. Cope grabbing my schedule and turning to face Edward. Instead I faced a closing door.
As quickly as I could I rushed through the door just in time to spot Edward's disheveled copper mane through the crowd of students. "Edward," I called hearing my voice crack.
He couldn't hear me so I ran after him. "Edward," I called again taking notice as a few students parted for me but Edward didn't even slow down.
This time I screamed for him in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by my peers, seeing nothing but him. "Edward!"
I tried to shove past someone, or something since I can't be sure, and found myself knocked to the ground. As I attempted to get to my feet I found that I could no longer see him. "Edward," I whimpered with tears stinging my eyes. "Please," I cried though I had no idea why.
I remember collapsing.
I don't recall hearing anyone talk to me or even the tardy bell but I felt hands lift me from my armpits and a warm body cradle me as they carried me away. All I could think was, Anywhere but here.
AN: So, what did you think? Leave your thoughts, questions, and concerns in a comment and I'll answer back within a few hours. I'm here a lot. Don't forget to vote as well and I'll see you next chapter unless, of course, you want to head over to Wattpad and get current with this story and all of my own original characters. www (dot) wattpad (dot) com (forward slash) 1432080 (dash) neither (dash) here (dash) nor (dash) there
Ember
