Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author of this complete fictional story does not own anything. No money is being made with this work. This is merely meant as a tribute to the inspiring work of Stephenie Meyer and the world she created.
AN/: In case you weren't able to tell everything written in cursive are Edwards thoughts, and yes they are supposed to be that disjointed, he is currently in bad shape.
On further note for those that felt that Bella's achievements in the previous chapter sounded a little high strung... That was intentional. It was supposed to sound larger than life. The whole idea for this story comes from the little piece of dialog between Bella and Edward in the bio class in the first book in which Bella tells her teacher that she took advanced classes back in Phoenix. That, and a little comment a friend of mine made about the twilight-universe a while back.
The Legacy of Dr. Isabella Swan
Chapter 2 - A gravestone in the rain
Green trees and wet rain. The two things Bella dislikes the most, the two things Forks has the most. More than enough, enough to make you mad. And there is nothing. Nothing but a fragile piece of glass between me and it. Forks. Where it all began. Forks. Where it all ended. Forks. What do I hope to find here? Why do I linger here? Why do I wait? Isn't she waiting? Isn't she not?
„It's very unlikely, „Alice spoke. „ that he will ever truely forget her... Edward?!"
The glass presents not resistance at all as I press my palm against it.
„Alice what..?", Jasper called out, when Alice suddenly jumped up from her seat and pulled him with her.
The window cracks and crumples and the endless rustle and splashing rain increases in its volume with the bothersome barrier gone.
„It's Edward.", Alice explained as she rushed up the stairs. „He has just made a decision. He's leaving. Edward. Wait."
Like a thrown stone sinking to the bottom of the pond, I sink down through the air little droplet of water and pieces of glass floating next to me.
Alice did not stop at the door and just sprinted on. The wooden barricade lost the brief and unfair struggle against the energetic vampire and bursts inwards, tiny splinters bouncing of the nearby interior. „Edward. Stop. Wait..."
My bare feet touch dirt and the dirt moves away, clear water droplets and glass pieces keep on falling down around and on top me and brown droplets of water raise back up again.
„... I can not see you anymore.". She was just in time to see Edward land on the ground below the shattered window. „Damn."
I lift my foot up and move it forward to set it back down again. I repeat the movement, a little faster this time, and with the other foot, of course. The ground beneath me explodes as more earth and water moves away to the sides and backwards and I get propelled forward. Suddenly that old, familiar feeling is back again, that feeling when the whole world falls away turning into a wage whooshing sound in your ears and blurry colors in your eyes. Everything stops and you move through the world like its nothing more than a series of screens with the films on hold.
„What is happening? Where is he going?", Jasper asked, looking down at the ruined patch of wild garden below, where just a moment ago Edward had been standing.
I go forward, on and on and on.
„The graveyard, I think", Alice answered. „I can't really see beyond that. Any vision of him just dissappeared. And I don't know what's going to happen. You have to get him. Fast."
The world is a blurring and a whistling, my feet carry me on, along a new path past old trees and even older boulders, over new creeks and new streets towards a even newer concrete wall. Before I can decide I want this feeling to go on forever and sacrifice this landmark to do so, my feet kick off the ground and catapult me high up into the air. It is like getting carried away by the wind.
That tiny concrete wall passes by underneath me on the ground while I fly by high above it through the sky and join the ground way, way behind it.
I am standing in the middle of a forest. A forest made out of little gravestones.
It is a empty place, associated with sadness and loss. A sad, empty, lousy place. Maybe that was why it is so empty. Maybe that was also the reason why it keeps on raining down on me.
My feet carry me down the rows of stones. Every single one of them had a name, a few words and numbers. Some even had candles, others fresh flowers, wet paper or other trash around them. The one I stop in front of however is different. It is no little stone. And it's not in the rain either. Because it is a large white stone underneath a larger willow tree and someone had carved a picture of a swan into it..
A swan with it's head lowered in front of it and it's wings half spread.
Bella's swan.
Bellow the bird, there are words.
'Isabella Marie Swan'
'1987 – 2039'
'A loving mother, a mentor and a friend.'
'Thank you for teaching us the true value of fighting for a better tomorrow and never giving up.'
'Thank you for igniting the shinning light of inspiration in our hearts so that we can carry it out into the world'
'Thank you for wonderful years.'
All the strength in my legs is suddenly gone. I fall down on my knees and further forwards until my hands stop the fall.
My chest tightens and release violently before tightening again repeatedly making strange choking sound coming from my throat.
I close my eyes but the burning in them doesn't disappear and my hands starts to hurt as my fingernails dig deep into my palms.
I feel like screaming.
I feel like dying.
The rain keeps on falling down on me.
And I say there where I am.
Long.
I don't care, I don't feel like leaving ever again.
„Mr. Masen." Afemale voice speaks out nearby. A lovely voice.
'...the poor man... he looks so broken...' It the same voice again, but it's not my ears that hear the words, only my mind. Because its not her mouth that talks only the thoughts in her head did.
„Doctor Masen.". It is very lovely female voice.
'...should I say Cullen?... is Cullen better.?... maybe I should come back later...' And there are so many thoughts in her head.
„Edward Masen."
'... can he even hear me?... maybe he hasn't...call again... speak louder... stupid...'
„Doctor Edward Anthony Cullen Masen. I am sorry to interrupt but could I may have a moment of your time."
I turn my head. She is beautiful. Clean, pale skin and chestnut brown wavy hair all the way to the small of her back. Round face, slender nose, high cheekbones, full lips, big, chocolate brown eyes. A small body beneath a black coat and a black umbrella in her gloved hand.
'... oh, dear... now he heard me... he is looking at me... is he mad?... he looks mad..."
A face like a ghost. Like a distant memory. Like the moon reflecting the light of the sun.
'.. introduse yourself... stupid... tell him who you are...'
She smells like good days long gone, full of laughter that will never be heard again.
„Dr. Masen. Excuse me." With the voice of an angel. „My name is Clara-Alice Swan. Could I may have a minute of your time?"
She is the daughter of her mother.
To be continued...