Chapter 2: Silence

Silence.

It's been said to be golden.

But sometimes it's worse than being stabbed in the heart repeatedly.

I pushed myself out of his arms and ran back up the stairs to my room with tears flowing shamelessly. I thought I heard Charlie call my name but I didn't want to get my hopes up. I flopped onto my bed and buried my head deep into my pillow and cried like there was no tomorrow.

I told my father that I loved him and of all people he should have been able to say it back without any signs of hesitation. I hadn't meant to say it, it just... came out. Of all the stupid things I could've done this was by far the worst one yet.

If Renee were here right now, he would've been long gone. If I could have I would have knocked some sense into him all those years ago. He was the one who should've taken my hand and been there whenever I needed him to be. How did he expect me to live without him? But all the coulda's, shoulda's and woulda's didn't matter anymore. They never did and never will happen.

I wondered if he even remembers all the times we spent laughing, eating, playing and crying together. He should've stopped Renee from taking me away if he really loved me. He should've tried to make their marriage work, if not for nothing then for me.

Did he think that, like him, I'd already moved on?

He couldn't be more wrong, because I still keep all those memories safely locked up, not willing to ever forget them.

Who knew he had already shoved them all into a bottomless pit.

----x---

By the time I had composed myself, Charlie was long gone.

Seeing the glorious sun shining bright outside for the first time since I had been in Forks, and seeing that I'd already missed first and second period, thus making it too late to go to school anyway, I grabbed my tattered copy of Wuthering Heights, eager to avail the opportunity for as long as I could, and headed outside.

I looked for an inconspicuous spot and then I found it. A huge willow tree separating our house from our neighbours'. Perfect.

I trudged over and plopped onto the base of the tree, making sure that the tree hid me from plain sight of the main road. I wouldn't want to be caught playing truant by any of the 'concerned' neighbours. I opened up the book and started reading Wuthering Heights for what must've been the hundredth time.

Call me deliberately melancholic or a hopeless romantic but I had always found solace in the book. It was there for me whenever I'd felt alone, depressed, unloved, miserable, or just plain wretched. I could practically recite, line by line, the dialogue of my favourite scenes in the book. I was practically a Wuthering Heights geek. Every time my English teacher back in Phoenix handed out literature component exercises I always went back to the book for references. The first few times were golden; I'd gotten as high as an A-. But by the 23rd essay, she'd gotten so tired of seeing the names Heathcliff and Catherine that she gave me detention.

Whatever.

I was so engrossed in what Heathcliff was saying that I didn't even hear my voice being called until a very well-built – almost muscular – boy with an outrageous grin was standing right in front of me.

"You must be Bella Swan!" he bellowed.

I looked up and tried to keep the annoyance off my face, focusing on looking ever-so-pleasant instead.

"Yep that would be me… and you are?"

"Cullen... Emmett Cullen," he stated in what seemed to be an impresonation of Sean Connery as James Bond, and not a good one if I might add, but I couldn't help but chuckle.

"So... how you doin'?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in the process.

"Joey, now is it," I replied with a huge grin plastered to my face. I couldn't help it. His grin was too infectious!

"You watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S religiously! I like you, Swan!" His grin grew larger than what I thought was humanly possible. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Woah, you're hot for a seventeen-year-old!" he remarked with a wink. "You don't mind if I stalk you, do you?"

I gaped at him for two seconds before replying.

"And how old are you Cullen… Emmett Cullen?" I replied in an impersonation of mine, which failed more spectacularly than his.

We both burst out laughing.

"To be honest, I don't really watch James Bond," he admitted sheepishly as he sat on the grass beside me. "Just the first two Connery ones and the George Lazenby one."

"Good," I replied with an encouraging smile, "because I was about to label you a chauvinistic, womanizing nuisance."

He pretended to look shocked. "Nuisance? Me? I'd only thought that was a great way to pick chicks up!"

We must've talked for ages; before I knew it the sky was streaked with the last rays of the sun and I could see Charlie's cruiser turning around the corner. I quickly took my leave and promised to go over to his place the next day. As I was making my way back to the house I realized that that stupid grin was still plastered all over my face. That's when I knew that Emmett Cullen and I would be great friends.

-----x----

I went over to the couch, turned on the TV and prayed silently for our first confrontation, which was inevitable after what I did this morning, to go smoothly as I heard Charlie's keys tinkling and his footsteps approaching. I tensed, waiting for him to come into the living room where I sat and begin to lecture me about house rules. Rule No. 1: no bringing up the past. Rule No. 2: I mind my business and you mind yours. That extends to PTA meetings. Rule No. 3: no sentimentality.

Instead, he went straight to the kitchen. I could see that he was holding a pizza box, but since I couldn't smell it I deduced that it was cold. Probably leftovers from the station.

I heard sounds coming from the kitchen: the pizza box being set on the table, the tap running for a while, a tired sigh from Charlie, porcelain plates clinking with one another, the sound of cardboard rustling, then his footsteps approaching.

"Brought pizza. In the kitchen," Charlie mumbled as he flopped down with his slice next to me and turned the channel to some football match. We sat in silence for what seemed to be eons. Then I decided that this just couldn't go on.

"I'm going over to the Cullens' house tomorrow."

"Mmm. 'Kay. I'm not going to be home anyway," Charlie replied with his eyes still glued to the TV, the pizza slice uneaten.

I started to feel anger boiling to the surface.

"Will you goddamn look at me?!" I half-yelled.

Charlie looked startled but composed himself hastily. He looked away. He fucking looked away.

Oh the nerve.

That did it. I snapped. I snatched the plate from his hand and threw it across the room, shattering it in the process.

Charlie's face turned purple at once.

"Go to your room – NOW."

The anger in his eyes was nothing compared to mine.

"No," I replied defiantly. Every inch of me pulsed with rage, hurt, confusion, bewilderment, hesitation – what was I doing? But I didn't want to back down. I couldn't. My pride held me back.

It seemed that Charlie's pride was the size of mine as well.

He got to his feet and grabbed me by my arm so abruptly and tightly that I cried out in pain and shock. I trashed. "Let go of me! LET GO!"

"I will when you finally decide to grow up," he said through gritted teeth. Charlie dragged me up the stairs to my room as I tried to pull and jerk my hand away from his iron grip. A few times I lost my footing and fell onto the step, but Charlie didn't even look down or loosen his hand – he just yanked me back up to my feet and went on climbing. All the while I screamed my lungs out, cursed him with every single curse word I could think of.

By the time we reached the door to my room my throat was hoarse and his grip had slackened somewhat, but he didn't let go of me until he practically threw the door open and pushed me inside so roughly that I almost fell.

"You stay there until you've learnt to respect me as your father."

I laughed bitterly, fighting the urge to cry. "Sure, why not? And while we're at it let's try you learning to love me as your daughter, eh?"

I could see Charlie bite his lip in restrained anger, as if he was about to retort. I stared directly and arrogantly at him, daring him, challenging him, holding my tears back so that I wouldn't be weaker than him. Come on, Charlie Swan! Let's see what you got!

But he merely slammed the door.

I threw myself onto my bed and let those accursed tears fall down my cheeks.

---x--

"C'mon darling, just keep moving. Don't you dare stop!" called a frantic voice.

"I... can't go on… I can't... go… you... go," another voice slurred.

"ISABELLA MARIE SWAN! I am telling you to keep moving! Don't you dare give up on me!"

Blood... there was just so much blood…

"Angel... please... for me," the voice pleaded.

Then the maniacal laughter. A sound so menacing it might as well be the voice of Death itself calling upon us.

I woke up to find myself on my bed, panting and covered in sweat. I was also quite sure that I was screaming at some point seeing as how dry my throat was. I was so sick and tired that I couldn't even manage tears; dry sobs were all that I could conjure up. Wondering what time it was, I turned my head to look at the window, but the curtains were down and I couldn't bring myself to get up, pull them back and look. I looked over at the clock and saw the bright red numbers showing that it was just past sunrise. I stumbled my way to the bathroom for a warm shower. I slipped in the tub twice. I also discovered bruises, especially at the arm where Charlie vice-gripped me, which made me even more sour.

I came back feeling even shittier than usual, but the nightmares usually did that to me.

Once again, I started sobbing knowing what I'd have to do next. There was only one person who could fix it, make me calm down; make the nightmares go away. So I grabbed my cell and started typing up a text message with shaky fingers.

.

L,

U're rite.

Cum get me?

-B

I read the message over and over, just staring at it blankly, before sending the message, knowing full well that this would just be history repeating itself, but it was only thing that would banish the nightmares out of my mind. I let out a sob at the helplessness of my situation, but it just had to be done.

My cellphone beeped, alerting me of a new text message. I shut my eyes tightly before opening it up, praying to God to ask my mother to forgive me for this.

B,

Missd u lots. K b ready by noon.

-L