Reflection
I stepped off the plane, into Italy. I had worn a cloak just in case, but it was night here. My scrambled plans were starting to take order. I found a dark alley, not far from the home of the Volturi. I needed to think things through. Should I just do it? Should I just step out into the sun? No. What if they didn't know I was here? This was very frustrating. First, it was night. If I was going to do this, it would have to happen at least six hours from now. Would I be able to wait that long?
Since I landed here, the pain had reappeared. Perhaps it was the déjà vu of returning, remembering how she saved my life. Just thinking about it made me tremble. I had to think of an alternative before I collapsed and became unable to think. Maybe I should just tell them my plan. They might even grant me my death, seeing as how Aro can read my every thought, he should know the anguish I am and have been feeling.
Then again, they may see a way through, and make it unable for me to die. The thought makes my chest ache. What if Jane unleashes her power on me, paralyzing me with that horrid pain, and they keep me there. They know of my power and, seeing as how I have nothing to go back to, they may just use me.
But, if I don't go to them, how will they know of my intention? How will they know to wait to attack? What a catch 22. Now, I let myself fall to the wet pavement, my mind racing, trying to find a way to my angel. But then I remembered. What if by offing myself, I will just stop being, never to go to that higher place, never to see her again? I prayed to God to see my pain, to know how hard I have tried to be good, how agonizing it has been to even try to not be evil. But even if I do never see her again, selfish as I am, I have to admit that it will be a relief. How healing it will be to never feel again, to just end. I shuddered. A relief, yes, but not what I want. Not what we want. Us. Bella and I. I beat my head against the ground, knowing that the end has passed and there may never be a new beginning.
As I silently wept at that thought, I heard it. The soft crying of a human. Why would a human be in such a dark, forbidden alley like this one? I looked to the left and saw a girl, about fifteen years old, laying on the ground, not unlike I was. She was sobbing, angry childlike sobs that were drenched with sadness. I tried to come out of my haze just a small amount to listen to her thoughts.
Why? Why am I like this God? Did I do something wrong? I am normal. I am fine. Everything in my life is utterly average, was average at least. Yet, my body is empty. I don't want to do it God, but I think it would be for the best. I strained to determine what she was going to do.
But how? Suicide has never been something to think about. Ugh, my head hurts, my heart hurts. Maybe I should jump. I saw that church overlooking the bay. It would be freeing. I feel better just thinking about it. I am sorry, God, but I hope you understand. At that, she stood up and wiped her face. I knew I had to do something. She is so young, I can't just let her do such a dark and tempting thing.
I silently stood up and followed her into the night. My already scrambled thoughts were fighting to come up with a plan. I was so wrapped up in my misery I hadn't been thinking about how other people felt. What could this girl find so painful? She mentioned emptiness, I could empathize. But she hadn't lost someone, she hadn't been ripped apart past oblivion. Then, maybe, she might have. In a different way. I tried to think of something to say when I reached her, but I had forgotten how to speak. I hoped I could when I decided to. I walked up behind her and touched her shoulder.
She whipped around and threw a hand around her mouth. It looked like she might run, but instead she just froze. Her blue eyes wide with horror. "Please," she whimpered.
"No, it's not what you think," I was startled by the sound of my voice. I hadn't spoken to someone in so long. I had to do something to make her understand my intention.
"I am not here to hurt you. I know what you are going to do. But, please don't. Suicide is not something a fifteen year old should be thinking about." I remembered something then. I should not be telling her this. But I couldn't remember why.
Oh, God. Why at this moment, do I have to find trouble? Why am I so frightened? I was going to kill myself anyway….But, how did he know? It was then that I remembered. Humans can't hear thoughts. I had been so out of reality that I had forgotten the simple rules of being a vampire. You're not supposed to tell humans your supernatural gifts.
"Um….please I am not going to hurt you, just come with me," I said.
Oh, no.
"No, wait, stay here. Um, there has to be a way to show you I am not going to harm you….." I couldn't think of what to do. "Why don't we go into the town? We can talk on one of the benches in the square." She followed me uneasily into the plaza and we sat on a park bench.
"Why…Why are you being nice to me? And…how did you know?" She whispered.
"Listen, that is not important. I just need to know that you won't kill yourself. You look like you have a lot on your mind. I was actually feeling a lot like that a few minutes ago," I was surprised that the pain had dulled and this young insignificant girl's presence actually made me feel at ease.
"That is none of your business," she said. What is going on? I am so confused. Maybe I should just run and go get it over with. Confusion is the last thing I need right now. But….he is really beautiful. He probably is having a hard time looking at me, as plain as I am….
I was getting frustrated. Why is it that every girl feels the need to kick herself over how I look? This girl was not ugly. She was not the most beautiful girl either, but I was beginning to get the feeling that there was so much more good behind the face.
"Okay, I can see that we are not getting anywhere like this. My name is Edward."
She eyed me suspiciously. "My name is Chris."
"Well, this is a good start. Now, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?" I wasn't sure what I was doing, but it helped take my mind off of this whole killing myself mess. At least it would keep me busy until the sun came up…
"Um well….." Oh, what the hell…..Then she launched into her story. Her full name was Christiana Marx and she was from Chicago. I told her that was where I was from, too, and she said "then you must know why I hate home." She was the first in her class back home and she was an only child. She would ask me now and then how I knew what she was planning, but I would just shrug it off and ask another question. Her parents were okay, but they were 'apathetic' as she called them. She had friends, but she told me how she really didn't connect with any of them. She has never had a boyfriend and sometimes she feels like she will be alone forever.( I reassured her that she wasn't and she blushed. I almost regretted it, but it was true). She frequently thought 'why am I telling him this?' which made me nervous, because I knew that if I were a human, she would have ran the first time she saw me.
I couldn't help but compare her to my former human self. So innocent and happy. At least she was happy. And she was from Chicago, too, where I grew up. And then I thought about how she was now, empty and suicidal. She was like a reflection of me, the same yet completely different.
When she was finished describing her life back home, I asked, "What are you doing here?" and she could truly not answer me.
Her mind was blank. Her face drained and her heartbeat increased.
Finally, she answered, at least I thought she was answering me. "My family is dead."
