Someone Like You by: Connie Shi
Chapter Three: New Beginning
Hey guys! Connie here with chapter three. Sorry for taking so long, this time I have no excuses. Chappie 4 is on the way so please enjoy and keep reading.
Have a complaint? Feel free to PM me! And really, I would really love to know what you think of this chapter. I'm anticipating a twist at the end. However, I kind of think that I screwed up on the characterization in this chapter? I'm making everyone sound kind of like me.
Sorry about that.
Disclaimer: All familiar characters, settings and other thingy mabbobers all belong to Stephenie Meyer. Please support her by purchasing her books. I do not own anything and I do not intend to make any profit from this.
I had no idea how many times I had screamed in pain. I would have believed - and maybe even wished – that I was in hell. Which phase was I in? Was this the torture? I couldn't imagine an eternity of this. Was this really hell?
Perhaps I had no right to be surprised. I had already suspected, in my delusional state of mind that I had always been there. It wasn't just the constant torture – self-torture on the most part – or the pain of trying to hold myself together every few seconds. Just the plain fact that any place in the world, no matter how extravagant, without Edward was hell.
But I supposed I underestimated those divine powers, whatever they might be. I thought this place wouldn't have been much different than the state I was in. I could not understand why I was going through this immense pain. Could this still be part of the dying process? Instead of the rumor about a tunnel that was split both ways, you had to endure a lifetime of pain? Was I going to have to endure this forever? And just when I thought that I would have been better off dead? If I knew that hell would have been so excruciatingly painful, I would've gladly been a good person. Besides, what happened to an afterlife? When I was still alive, I've always looked forward to reincarnation. It really appealed to me how you get another chance at life, a chance to be whoever you want to be.
An immense burning flashed down my arm, leaving a fiery path in its wake. I felt the eternal flames all the way down to my toes. I was thrashing about, digging my fingernails into my arms, my legs, my body and just about any other place I could reach. That wasn't right. It couldn't have been. My body? Really, that's not right at all. If I thought about it, I would have remembered that going to another dimension would require leaving behind your body. If I thought about it, I would have realized that I still feel flesh under my fingernails. But naturally, I was too preoccupied to pay it much mind.
Another new wave of flames, but this time it was down my throat. What a strange place. Whoever said that hell had been a fire pit would've been happy to know that he was correct. Not that I would be able to tell him that. No, I was already dead. I half expected to get whipped. In the movies, hell was portrayed as the sinner being hanged – arms and legs secured in place – and a death god or something would whip them for eternity. Then again, that still wasn't right. I was thrashing wasn't I?
"Shhhh… It's okay." I heard someone speak. Was this person talking to me? That's weird, would hell offer consolations? Somehow, that was a comforting thought. Maybe hell wouldn't be so bad if I had a friend.
I groaned and dug my fingernails into my arm some more but surprisingly I did not feel the pain I had expected to feel. "Can't have you doing that to yourself, can we?" another person spoke this time, every word dripping with wicked pleasure – as if it was somehow amusing to watch me suffer like this. But this was more like it. Who has ever heard of consolations in hell? I was too tired, too exhausted, too hurt, too remorse to identify the voice, but I knew that I was a girl. Instead, I punched any and everything within arm's reach – a much better option compared to thinking.
"Tough one, isn't she? I've always have high expectations." The second one spoke again, the same evilly amused tone still present. Definitely a girl. Her speech was followed by a shrill laugh, one that bounced off the walls – at least, what I assumed were walls – and came back to attack me in every direction. When was this person going to shut up?
"How do you know her? You seem surprisingly familiar with her, no?" the soothing tone spoke this time and I was relieved to hear that I was gentle, it null the annoyance I had with the shrill laugh. Who was this person? Is that a male voice?
"We had a past." The second replied. "It wasn't a pretty one." Sadness filled her voice. I knew that I've heard that voice somewhere.
"You say it like she's associated with one of our kind…? Am I wrong?" the gentler voice spoke this time. The voice was filled with concerned curiosity.
Silence followed his words. I could almost see the girl debating in her mind what her answer should be. Finally she replied, both me and the male had been anticipating this. I had stopped thrashing but the ever-present pain remained, though just a tickle now. "Not one of us, some of us. An entire coven actually. Her mate – no, he's not with her anymore – her…acquaintance killed James."
A speculating silence from the male this time, the female was still lost in thought. "Hadn't you said that James was hunted by those Yellow Eyes?" his voice was cautious, he didn't want to startle the girl.
"Ah. Yes. They were all Yellow Eyes. Freaking psychos if you ask me. How one can maintain their diet for an entire year, much less a few decades is beyond me." She spat the word diet, anger deep in her voice. She was trying to remain calm.
"Yes, indeed." The male agreed. "And why, may I ask Victoria, are you after this defenseless girl?" That was her name. Victoria. An awfully familiar name, but I couldn't seem to recall where I've heard it. It was a blurry image, but a striking tone of red entered my vision.
"I do not see this girl as defenseless. She wouldn't be when she wakes up. And she hadn't been even before her change. Makes one envy, doesn't it? She always has a protector." Her voice was resigned. Jealousy was evident.
The male spoke, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "You know, Victoria, for a second there I really thought that you were referring to me." A challenge edged around the query.
"Actually, my dear Keith, I am."
"You're wrong. See, the problem with you is that you are too arrogant. You really believe you know everything, don't you?" he replied, coolly.
"I wouldn't believe that if I wasn't right all the time." She retorted.
A sigh escaped the male's lips. "Victoria—." He was cut off by a shriek so loud it filled the silence like a sharp blade. It took me about ten seconds before I realized that I was the one that was screaming. Strange, my voice didn't sound like me anymore.
"It's coming to a stop." The female spoke, mostly to herself.
It was like she set off a trigger with her voice. The second that the last word escaped her mouth, the flames started to retreat. First from my toes, then my feet, then the legs, the thigh, the stomach and up – until they all seemed to come together in one place, the throat. And it stayed there. It wasn't moving. I was filled with unquenchable thirst.
I opened my eyes, slowly, afraid of what I would find. I was surprised by the sudden focus that I immediately snapped them shut again. The two voices that battled earlier couldn't be heard. I tried again, this time a lot slower.
Everything was in amazing focus, the tiny speck of crap that the flies left the night before became huge when I focused on it. The blue hummingbird that was flying 5 miles away from the window was just starting to get tired. I could see each and every stitch of the lavender blanket that covered me. I eyes darted to the only red in the room. It registered in my mind as hair. Red hair.
My eyes focused on her eyes. She had eyes that are as strikingly red as her hair. The emotion in her eyes were hard to describe. Perhaps, it was triumph, or maybe it was mockery, or smug, or cocky, or hatred, or jealousy, or even maybe relief.
All I knew was that her smile was genuine. "Welcome back, princess." And there wasn't a trace of mockery in those words.
Too OCC? What does THAT stand for anyway?
Thank you for reading.
Love, Connie.