CHAPTER 4: Burst
"Hey, sis'! " Seth yells at me from the outside. I get up immediately and rush to the window. He is by the porch, looking up at my direction.
"I'm heading to school, Leah. I'll be late." He says with a serious look. Unusual behaviour considering Seth is … Well, he is doing OK.
"What are you talking about?" I say, quickly glancing at my watch. "It's barely seven o'clock. You'll probably even have to wait-"He cuts me off. Again, something he'd never dared to do before.
"I mean I won't be back at the usual time."
"Oh, I see. Well, do you even –"
"I'll see you… later. I guess. I guess I'll leave." He turns around and starts jogging away.
Something is off. I know that much.
I realise I've been quite a parasite for the last 8 weeks. I've been showering three or maybe four times a week, tops. I've been eating once or sometimes not even eating at all during the day. I don't know the date, and am not quite sure of the year either.
That's it.
After my shower I get dressed in the only clean clothes I have left – which reminds me of the mountain of laundry that awaits me. I go downstairs. Step by step, patiently planning the rest of my day, and at the same time, at the very bottom of my mind, I think and try – with the same effort I'm putting on NO concentrating on it- to make out the rest of my life as well.
I finally make it to the kitchen where I find a little mess. I'm absolutely positive that it's Seth's responsibility, as positive as I am about the fact that I will be cleaning it. I fix myself a cup of coffee and two slices of bread. As I sip the coffee I realise that this is, in fact, the first time since my father was alive, that I drink coffee. I also realise, it's the same package of coffee we had three months ago.
Suddenly, I stop drinking to put my mug down and get the package of coffee. It was only me and him in the house who ever drank coffee, and this package right here was an especial one: brought by a friend of his directly from Peru.
I had a pretty good idea of the difference between a high and poor quality coffee. To be good it had to come from either Guatemala or Kenya. That was good stuff.
But my dad had taught me that for coffee to be great it could only come from two places in the world: Colombia or Peru. We enjoyed this intoxicating, bitter flavour together... I know this should make me sad. This should make me feel away from him, and depressed... but to the contrary – as I hold my mug in my hands again, and sip – I feel close to him and relieved. I have found him yet once more. I'll make it.
I'm done with cleaning the kitchen and I'm preparing to leave the house. As I pass, my attention is oddly drawn to the calendar hanging on the wall. I freeze in place as I realise we're so close to that date. His wedding ... their wedding. Anger and pain are suddenly all I feel. I get out of the house and start running again. I trip over and fall to the muddy ground.
Why? Why do I have to love him this much? I don't want to. I don't want to love him. I don't want to love her either. They are hurting me now; they have been hurting me for a long time. What else is there? Please. I plead to myself, to God, to whom is capable of doing something about this. Just make me hate him. Make me hate them. It'll be easier... the pain would have a way out.
I can't. I don't. As much as I truly, really, wish to feel nothing but hatred towards these people ... all I feel in anger. Towards the whole freaking world.
I'm not feeling well. I think I might be about to throw up... I dash to the toilet taking deep breathes. I chose a bad day to come back to the world... but I'm already up and my dad is with me. So I compose myself and look at my reflection in the mirror. I'm still pretty Leah from primary school... Nope. She's dead. The poor thing died in high school, too bad.
I go out the house. The day is particularly grey. The clouds are thick and have a blue-ish edge. I start making my way to the back of the house. My dad's Dodge is there. Well, strictly speaking... my Dodge. I had inherited from him when I turned 18. Aaron, my babe. I never used him. My job was at walking distance and I never went to Forks – let alone any further than that. I'll drive around today.
As I make it to the garage I see a woman carrying her child. They both wear winter clothes - thick fabric- that is supposed to keep them warm in the ... Only now do I realise that it should be cold outside. Freezing, actually. I get lost in thought... I don't recall shivering or even feeling in the slightest bit uncomfortable. I've always felt warm. And yet the woman shoots a mortified look at me as if looking at a crazy-looking person. I turn my back on her and start opening the garage's door. She's gone and I am next to the driver's door. I catch my reflex in the glass and see what the woman in the street had just seen. A girl wearing a pair of jean shorts and a tank top... in this weather.
I get in the car and as it purrs to life I forget all about the woman who looked at me weird. I am just not cold, the end of the story.
I'm in the highway, heading to Forks. Actually, the road will eventually get me pass Forks. I just want to drive away and ... just drive for the sake of it. God knows I haven't driven in a long time.
Damn it... I have to stop. Although I am perpetually in a bad mood I'm not going to leave some idiot in the middle of the road asking for directions. I stop the car and pull the glass down.
"Can I help you, Sir?" I say to the man in front of me.
"Yes... Oh!" He says as he leans over to look at me. "Hey, gorgeous. I'm heading to La Push beach."
I raise one eyebrow and he grins at me. I must have given him the wrong idea.
" Your on the right road, Sir. Just-"
"Oh, no. Please. I'm Julian. What's your name, beautiful?"
"Alright, Julian. Just keep it down this road and you'll be there in about half an hour. You're welcome."
"Wait. Do you live there? Because I need to find a specific address and... I still don't know your name." He flashes me a smile. It would have worked if it wasn't me who we're talking about.
"My name is Virginia. Virginia Potts." This asshole has never heard of Iron- man in his life. I laugh in my mind.
"Nice to meet you, beautiful Virginia. Do you live there?"
"The address?"
"Right, you see. I'm looking for a man named Sam Uley. I'm supposed to give him two wedding rings. I come on behalf of ..." A crack opens in my chest and I fall. The giant hole is filled with liquid rage. It's almost literally speaking. I clench my teeth and hit the gas. I'm too far for him to say something, or for me to hear it. Either he lives or dies... I couldn't care less.
I'm by the woods now, and I stop because I'm not hidden and I can't really drive anymore. My hands are shaking and I think that if I add the tiniest bit of pressure in my jaw my teeth will break into little pieces.
I hide the car behind some trees and bushes and shut the door with what I believe was enough strength to break a wooden door.
I start running into the woods. I don't have any idea of where I am or where I'm going, all I know is that I will run until my legs feel like jelly (if I ever feel them again) and my feet are bleeding.
I can't even run away from it! Fuck! If there's a God somewhere, the dude hates me! I don't want to go back. I don't want to think, or know, or feel anything, ever. I'm running fast. Surprisingly I haven't fallen yet. The forest seems quite plain in this region and, deep inside my brain, the part that isn't burning with pure, bitter anger is thinking of the darkness I find myself surrounded by… very literally speaking.
It must be around five or six in the afternoon. I've been running for about seven hours and I'm still doing so. You'd think that after all that running the rage would be out of my system completely. Well, you'd be wrong. It has done nothing but increased and now I am not as much running as I am trembling my way through the trees to exactly nowhere.
I am now in the middle of a clearing and, after an uninterrupted marathon of eight hours and God knows how many miles, I stop.
At the other end of the clearing – 25 or so feet away- stands the man of my dream. Well, very much like him but this one isn't the one I know. He is gorgeous, of course. His skin is olive and his beautiful hair is short, curly and dark brown. At the sight of him I'd immediately adopted a defensive position. This time I'm not mesmerized / terrified by his crimson eyes, no. This time I am being hurt. His smell sweet. Too sweet, at the point that it is burning my nose.
I feel unease, tension and tremors, all at the same time. He's just standing there, casually. There's a smug smile across his face, as if whatever he's planning for me, he'll get away with.
What am I thinking? Why am I not running for my life? This guy is obviously a potential danger for me, and rather rapist-looking. I should be at least a mile from therein the opposite direction. But no! Stupid suicidal Leah is here, facing him!
Suddenly his expression changes into one of awareness and... fear. In less than a heartbeat he's changed his position to imitate mine. Defensive. The look on his face is no longer smug, but mortified and worried. I hear a careful but powerful rumble behind me and I feel wind blow from the same direction. In the same second, six gigantic beasts materialised before my eyes forming an offensive line, their backs to me.
Not a whole second has passed and they're gone. The beautiful man has nothing but vanished and the monsters with him.
I freeze there. I've just hallucinated all of this. I can't move an inch but I know I should be now desperately making my way to the safety of the road.
My hallucination comes back to the clearing from right the same spot where it had disappeared.
This only beast comes alone and slowly, as if trying not to scare me. It is a wolf. But how could this be? How can a wolf develop that size? The size of a freaking grizzly bear – or bigger. It's russet and strong-looking. Massive. There's something in his eyes. It's smart, it understands fear and rage. There's pity in his look.
I flinch in pain and fear and rage. Fury is burning me again, like acid, is taking away and cracking every part of my body and mind. I turn around an run with all the turbo power my anger gives me and I'm done.
Like I once did in a dream I am flying. The tremors and fire gone. The forest is a blur behind me. I am faster than anything I am wind. I am light.
