Ch. 2 What have you done?
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
-Neil Gaiman
Sunlight streamed through the open window, illuminating the darkness in the madwoman's den and reminding me that still, through my personal troubles and pain, the world was still smiling. I draped my arm over my eyes, shielding them from the harsh light of day. I was never one for smiles. I doubted the poverty-stricken percentage of the world was bouncing around all cheery. Continuing my silent rant, it took me at least a half hour of grumbling and stretching to realize I was in my bed. Snug as a bug, basking in the warmth of the covers, with fresh pyjamas on. And, by the tangy taste in my mouth, force-fed some type of gross medicine. Like Buckleys. It tastes bad, and it works.
I couldn't find my voice. Shouldn't I be in the meadow, most likely soaked to the bone, throwing up because of that head injury? Ooh.. Right. I remember that now. I had hit my head when I ran the truck into a tree, not on purpose, of course. Tentatively, my fingers reached up, dabbing at the left side of my forehead. It was stitched and bandaged; but the question was, who did it? Charle didn't have the medical skills, or the stomach to treat his daughter's flesh wound. I was sure it wasn't that serious. And besides, he had no idea where I was, not to mention being on that fishing trip with one of his cop buddies. It definately wasn't Jacob, whom I had ditched somewhere, maybe near the Java Cafe, but I'm not too sure. I was more bent on dumping him the first opportunity I got, and booting it out of there than anything else. What would make him want to help me after doing that, anyways?
Propping myself up on my elbows, I glanced at my hands. They were terribly bruised, but at least someone had washed them. Come to think of it.. Was it just me, or did my hair smell strangely of Herbal Essences shampoo?
"Oh god." My breath caught in my throat. Someone had bathed me. Had they actually seen me naked? How utterly humiliating. Whoever it was, I hoped it wasn't some pervert. And god forbid it be Jacob.
Alright, it was time to get up. My eyes flew to the clock. 11:46. The lunch bell should be ringing about now. That gave me at least forty-five minutes to change, maybe eat, and get the hell out of there. Might as well pop by the school, see if Principal Myers figured out who smashed the mirror. Maybe she fixed it by now, she was that kind of lady. That get-it-done-before-many-people-notice kind of woman. The variety that likes to keep things hush-hush, keep 'em quiet.The prospect of a furious principal, and the look on Myers' face brightened my mood considerably. Shoving up, I stood too quickly, and had to wait for the blood that had rushed to my head to disperse. It seemed to me that I was always steadying myself. As if I needed something else to make me appear weak.
Since I, nix that, somebody, had cleaned me up, there was no need for a shower. Not like I could stand seeing what my fists had done to the wall tiles in there. What a danger zone. I felt mildly regretful, Charlie worked hard, he didn't need any more bills. But like I said, mildly. Dressing was no problem, I nabbed my long-sleeved, tight black sweater, and my skinny jeans, along with poka-dotted flats and a grey tee. I may be an outcast, but at least I could look good. I slid on a black, red-polka-dotted headband on, and took a step back, examining myself in the mirror.
"You look lovely, my dear. But I have to say, I prefer your hair brown." My stomach knotted. There he was, again, pressing his lips into my hair, smiling back at me from within the mirror. I raised the brush over my head instinctively, preparing to throw it at his reflection. Common sense postponed my intentions. If I smashed the mirror, like the one at school, it would only prove that I'm a lunatic. Maybe even a schizophrenic, if you count Edward's hallucinations as a voice. Charlie would also have more to pay for, so that idea was out. I lowered the brush with shaky hands, letting it fall to the countertop with a clattering thump. Enough primping, it was time to go. Ten minutes of walking, and I'd be there.
The wind had picked up, forcing the sun behind thick clouds of gray. It was going to be a sunlight-free day - matching my mood completely, melodramatic. Edging on the sullen side. I'd be quiet today. Forks was in rain-mode now, especially with the fall weather sending summer away. No objections here, I very much preferred autumn. The warm browns, golds, and reds of the leaves appealed to me. And I liked wearing sweaters. My eyes, drawn to the masterpieces of the trees, rose, effortlessly ushering me away from the edge of the sidewalk. I brought my hand up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before lowering it again. Gusts always mussed up my hair, and a messy 'do isn't high on my favorite list. The colder seasons turned my hair frizzy. I hated friz. The fuzzy, light feeling of it. And how annoying it was when it got in my eyes and obstructed my vision! Somewhere in the middle of my little rant, the campus had come into view, standing tall, flanked by crimson trees. A reassuring sight; I was looking forward to a day of silence. Especially after last night. What had happened with the pajama thing anyways? God, if I started pondering on that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything all day. And as much as that thought attracted me, I didn't like thinking things over and still being confused.
My legs ceased movement at the curb of the crosswalk, my eyes gazing out at Forks high. Jessica was gabbing with Angela, Mike hovering nearby. Jacob and his posse had dominated a picnic bench, sitting on or around it engrossed in a heated discussion. Discussing me, perhaps? It was doubtful. Surely they had gotten over the shock of the new me? In truth, there was nothing really different with me besides my appearance, and my head. I was even more insecure and depressed now, and no matter how much I try to refuse the thought, its still there. I couldn't get over him leaving me. A life without love is no life at all. Heck, I was a perfect example. The toes of my keds were over the edge now, fighting to keep balance before stepping off onto the road. I hadn't taken more than two steps before there was a loud bleet, and a rush of air running inches from my face. I leaped back, eyes wide and wild, arms out, fingers stretching out as if to form claws and swipe at the perpetrator.
"It was just a car." I repeated to myself. "It was just a car."
Im scared much too easily; I'll have to work on that. Glaring at the vehicle's tail, my feet once again stepped off of the curb, striding quickly until they reached the safety of the opposite sidewalk. Jacob's gaze broke off from Sam's, fixing me with a mix of sorrow and hurt in his eyes. Why couldn't I just like him, he must think. Walking slowly towards the double doors of the school, I wondered, why couldn't I? The memory of him, the possibility that he might return, undo this damage and love me again was keeping me from pursuing someone else. The fact that he was my soulmate, and that I didn't want to leave him, were major points aswell. I drummed my fingernails habitually against the handles for a moment, shattering my thoughts to push against the door. I wanted in. Now. Had to get away from Jake's eyes burning holes in the back of my head.
I took my natural route throughout the school, veering to the right, then the left, to get to the rows of lockers where mine was located. The bell had rung, students had begun to cluster around their lockers, fishing for their books, trying vainly to force the doors shut. I leaned with my back against the metal door of my locker, crossing my arms over my chest and rubbing my arms. Why had the hallway gone suddenly cold? And it was then that I pushed away, standing in the middle of the groups of people, staring with disbelief at the other end of the hall.
Two painfully perfect eyes widened, staring back at me, in shock. The energy was sucked from the room; the air chilled, time stopped. My face drained of color, and my eyes enlarged- I felt like I might collapse that very moment. Everybody was too busy worrying about what homework they had forgotten to do, or catching up on the latest gossip to notice me and my shaking legs.
Edward's face contorted into shock, sorrow, pain, and love. I couldn't move, my body was frozen in place.
His mouth formed the whisper, "What have you done?"
