Okay, so Bella is really struggling to let Edward go, but Charlie has put his foot down and demanded that she snap herself out of her funk and go back to school. She agreed in order to stay in Forks, but now she has to return to the land of Forks High. Here's how that goes down.
4 ~ Mad World
"Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world…"
Mad World by Michael Andrews & Gary Jules
Sunday, September 25 to Monday, September 26
Bella's POV
Sunday passed more quickly than I would have liked for the simple reason that I was dreading Monday. If it had not been for the fact that Monday meant returning to school and returning to school meant remembering things I preferred not to think of, I would have been itching for the time with both of my parents to come to an end.
Except for the small amount of time I slept in the rocking chair, I was under constant parental supervision, which meant that I was always putting my acting skills to the test. Charlie spent the entire day watching me like a hawk, as if at any moment he expected me to break down or flip out, but I was thankful that he didn't try to coerce me into conversation, as Renee seemed hell-bent on doing. After breakfast, I spent hours at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of hot chocolate, listening to her jabber on about her perfect house in Jacksonville and Phil's baseball team and the new modern dance class she had taken up. I did my best to seem interested, nodding my head at appropriate times and weakly smiling as often as my lips would permit, but after awhile, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to find something to keep me busy so that the hours until Renee's flight would pass more quickly.
I settled on getting some laundry done, a task Renee had never welcomed, hoping that she would take my subtle hint and find someone else to annoy with her chipperness. Unfortunately, though, Renee seemed thoroughly content to follow, watch and chat with me as I laundered my light and dark wash. I had everything folded and put away entirely too quickly, and as I searched the rest of my room for something else to do, my eyes rested on my bed. I drew in a deep breath, set my jaw in determination and marched over to it, ripping off my comforter and sheets and tossing them into an empty basket.
I knew that the smell of him lingered in the fabric, so I did my best not to inhale as I carted everything off to the laundry room, my mother's constant chatter following close behind. I poured a generous amount of bleach into the water after I added the detergent, but when the washer finished its final spin and I lifted the lid, I could still detect the faint smell of honey emanating from within. I left out a slight gasp before slamming the cover back down and setting the dials to wash everything again. The machine began thumping through its washing routine, but instead of feeling relief over the idea that I might actually be able to sleep in my freshly-cleaned bed tonight, I felt a single tear trickle down my cheek at the thought that I was washing him away forever. Remembering that I was still in the company of my mother, I quickly sniffed and wiped the tear away, but I wasn't fast enough. She had grown eerily silent, and I knew she had seen my unintentional display.
Renee's hand gently grasped my shoulder and spun me around to face her. I quickly dropped my gaze to prevent her from reading the truth in my eyes, praying that she would just let it go. She released her hold on me to softly close the laundry room door, blocking Charlie from hearing the conversation that I now knew she would not allow me to escape. "Bella," she whispered, and then let out a loud sigh. "Baby, I know this is probably the last thing you want to talk about with me, but I have to ask you anyway. Did Ed—did he…baby, did he force you to—"
"No," I said icily, turning away from her and staring out the window as I thought about the many times he had actually prevented us from being intimate. "He was always the perfect gentleman," I whispered. It was me that always wanted more, me that pushed him to test his limits, me that begged him to give in. If I was smart, maybe I would have seen his resistance for what it truly was: his lack of desire. But I was naïve; time and time again, I had believed his excuses. I had believed that he wanted me. I had believed that making love to him had brought us closer together until I found that it had, instead, torn us completely apart.
I shook my head to clear it from the thoughts of my transgressions, and I could instantly feel her eyes watching me. I knew that she wanted to say more, that she wanted to have a heart-to-heart with me about relationships and feelings and making mistakes, but, thankfully, she never resumed the conversation. Instead, she allowed me to bask in her silence until the washing machine dinged to indicate that it was done.
I moved my bedclothes into the dryer, and, sensing that her quietude was quickly drawing to a close, passed by Renee, saying, "I should probably try to get caught up on some school work. Can you let me know when the dryer's done?" I looked at her just long enough to see her nod before hastily making my way to my room. I pulled my physics and calculus books from my backpack and sat at my desk, but instead of reading from them, I rested my head in my arms and quietly cried myself to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of hushed movements in my room and twisted around to see Renee smoothing the last of the wrinkles from the blankets she had just returned to my bed. She gave me a soft smile and said, "Sorry I woke you." She sat on my bed and beckoned me to join her with a few pats of her hand. I stood from my desk, stretched out my kinked up muscles and cautiously sat on the very edge of the mattress. She pulled me into a sideways hug and said, "Bella, it will get easier. You will get past this. And your dad and I will always be here to help you." I couldn't help the tears that came to my eyes, and I didn't try to stop them from falling this time. I just allowed myself to feel safe and comforted as my mother held me in her arms and let me cry my eyes to dryness.
There was a knock at the door some time later and Charlie poked his head inside my room to say, "Renee, it's time to go or you're going to miss your flight." I glanced out the window, noticing for the first time that the sun had started to go down, and was silently grateful that they had allowed me to sleep most of the afternoon away at my desk.
Renee stood, pulling me with her and tightly hugged me goodbye. "Come and visit me soon, okay?" she said, and I nodded my assent for the sole purpose of getting her to leave. I truly had no intentions of visiting Florida, but her simple request had caused me to remember a blocked memory from my birthday. I bit my lower lip as I thought of the plane tickets that Carlisle and Esme had gotten me for my birthday, and I bit back a sob as I remembered the person with whom I had been planning to make the trip.
Charlie was eying me carefully, no doubt catching all of the signs that pointed toward my imminent breakdown, so I clung to my mother tightly and whispered "I'm going to miss you, Mom." When Charlie cleared his throat, a reminder of the time, Renee released me and kissed my cheek. She noticed my moist eyes, and hers also filled with tears. As I had hoped, she attributed my crying to the fact that she was leaving, but I wasn't so sure that Charlie didn't see right through my facade. If he did, he at least didn't mention it and I watched out my window as the cruiser slowly drove out of sight.
At long last, I had been left alone and I was glad for the peace of solitude. My parents' absence meant that I didn't have to spend all of my limited energy pretending that everything about my life was just fine. It meant that I could sit in the rocking chair and, finally, do nothing more than exist. I stared through the glass as the last remnants of daylight faded into night and I allowed myself to be swallowed by the blessed numbness.
Hours later, I saw the blurred headlights of Charlie's car as he pulled into the driveway and I prepared myself for my father's company. A few minutes after I heard the front door open and close, a knock sounded on my door. "Come in," I said emotionlessly. Charlie entered and he seemed slightly anxious when he saw that I was once again swaying back and forth in the rocking chair.
"Hey. I just wanted to let you know I'm home. I thought maybe we could order a pizza or something for dinner." I looked at the clock when he mentioned food and decided that preparing dinner myself would be a good way to pass the time until it reached a reasonable hour for me to go to bed. And maybe, if I was lucky, it would earn me some sanity points with Charlie.
"How about I make something," I suggested, and Charlie smiled for the first time since…before. I got up from the chair and descended to the kitchen as my stomach grumbled and I thought about what I should make. I perused the pantry and the refrigerator and wrinkled my nose when I saw what little I had to work with. I guessed Charlie hadn't done the grocery shopping last week, but I couldn't really be frustrated with him because that task had been my welcomed responsibility since I had moved to Forks. Noticing that we at least had eggs, bread and potatoes, I decided to make breakfast for dinner. I pulled out all of the necessary ingredients for french toast and home fries, and as I heated up the stove and shredded the potatoes into a butter-coated pan, I realized that, for the first time in a long time, I felt the painful pangs of hunger.
In my stomach's opinion, I couldn't seem to get the food prepared fast enough. I popped a few pieces of golden-fried potato in my mouth as I stirred them around, cursing under my breath when the last piece burned my tongue. After about twenty minutes, the food was finally finished and I quickly moved the two pans to the center of the kitchen table. Before Charlie had even sat down, I was eagerly scooping a generous portion of potatoes and two pieces of french toast onto my plate. Charlie's jaw dropped as I poured maple syrup over my toast, but he recovered from his shock quickly and we ate in silence.
My stomach was satisfied when I emptied my plate, and I could tell that Charlie was pleased that I seemed to be adhering to all of his requests. I took my time washing the dishes, and when the kitchen was once again spotless, I sat at the table and made up a grocery list so that I could stop at the store on my way home tomorrow. It was around eight o'clock when it was completed, and I decided that it was a perfectly acceptable time to turn in for the night. I said goodnight to Charlie, who smiled and nodded before returning his attention to his sports channel, and then I climbed the stairs to my room.
As I sat down on my bed, I realized that I was suddenly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and not wake up for a long while. Maybe forever I instantly thought, but I quickly dismissed the idea. I made a promise and I intended to keep it as long as I was capable of doing so. He was right, after all, Charlie needed me, and just because other people broke their promises didn't mean that I could, too. Stupid, cruel, heartless, promise-breaking assholes!
The unexpected wave of bitterness and anger I felt as I crawled under the Clorox-scented covers was therapeutic. It was certainly better than the constant misery that assailed me when the numbness in my head decided I needed a heavy dose of reality. And it was a surprisingly comforting emotion to feel as I was about to attempt to rest in a bed that had previously brought me nothing but painful nightmares. I flinched as I remembered the recurring dream I had experienced the last time I slept in this bed and I seriously contemplated returning to the solace of the rocking chair. I quickly dismissed the idea, though, because I knew that Charlie would be checking in on me I didn't want to destroy all of the progress I had made tonight at dinner by showing him that I was too unstable to sleep in my own bed. I reached over to set my alarm clock even though I strongly doubted I would need it, closed my eyes and took slow, steady breaths. The bleach had worked its magic and I quickly drifted off to sleep with no scented memories to penetrate the numbness that was returning to my mind.
I awoke screaming sometime in the early morning hours and the darkness of my room only served to terrify me that my nightmare was going to follow me into reality. I suppose I could have been thankful that it wasn't the same dream I had experienced the last time I slept in this bed, but I instead felt confused, alone and absolutely petrified. I was concentrating on calming my elevated breathing and heart rates when Charlie entered my room to see why I had screamed.
He switched on my light and the lack of darkness helped to calm my nerves. "Are you alright?" he asked as he sat next to me on my bed, his hands fidgeting as if he didn't know exactly what to do with them to comfort me. He finally took the safe no-touching route and placed them in his lap.
I thought about his question and how I should answer it. Am I alright? That really depended on what one considered "alright" to mean. If it meant was my physical self intact, was I breathing and conscious and responsive then, yes, I supposed I was alright. But if it meant was my well-being alright, was I happy, did my life have meaning, did I even really want to have a life, then the answer was a definite no. I decided it would be best to give Charlie the first answer.
"It was just a nightmare Cha—Dad. I'm okay." He kept staring at me, trying to figure out if I was being honest. I hated it. It wasn't like he would really want to know the truth anyway. I didn't even want to know the truth. Because they, whoever the hell they were, were right. The truth hurts. The truth can destroy your dreams. The truth can destroy your life.
Before my thoughts became any darker and my open book of a face gave me away, I needed Charlie to leave. I decided to remind him that I was being good. "Look, I'm fine, really. And I need to get back to sleep now, unless you want me dozing off on my first day back to school." Not that I really planned on being excessively alert, but he didn't need to know that.
"Okay Bells," he replied reluctantly. He got up from my bed but before he left my room, he felt it important to add, "But if you need anything, I'm right here." He returned to his room and I stared at the door he had closed behind him.
To the emptiness of my room I whispered, "Sorry Charlie. What I need you can't give me." I lied back down and closed my eyes, but instead of falling back asleep, I spent the hours until my alarm clock went off thinking about my nightmare over and over again, trying to recall every detail so that it would make more sense.
In the dream, I was in an old city, somewhere I didn't recognize. All of the buildings were made of sandstone, and they seemed to stretch so high above me that they made me feel insignificant and helpless. I was running down the street in a long, dark, hooded gown. I couldn't tell if I was running from something or running to something, but I somehow knew that it was extremely urgent that I get to wherever it was that I was going as quickly as possible.
When I exited the walls that surrounded the strange city, I was back in Forks, running from the forest toward my house. I rushed through the splintered remnants of the front door and I heard someone laughing. It was a female voice, and I couldn't deny that it was beautiful, but it was also exceedingly evil. And it was coming from the direction of Charlie's room. I raced up the steps as fast as my surprisingly stable legs would carry me and I reached the doorway of Charlie's bedroom just in time to see him fall to the ground. No one else was in the room. Charlie's neck was turned in an awkward direction, and his face had frozen in terror. His arms held their final position, stretched outward in his attempt to thwart the advances of his absent attacker. He was gone, dead, murdered, and I knew it was my fault. I felt immediate sadness and guilt, but I pushed the emotions aside because, selfish as it may sound, it was not my father I had come to protect.
I sprinted from his room, but the hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and no matter how far or how fast I ran, my bedroom door seemed out of reach. Finally, though, when I once again heard the sound of laughter, my hand reached out and grasped the doorknob. My stomach turned as the door opened in slow motion and a frighteningly familiar odor permeated my nostrils. The smokiness made my eyes burn, and fear seized my heart and halted my breaths when I saw her standing before me.
Her head was tilted back in a bout of wicked laughter. As I approached her, the laughing stopped, but a malevolent smile still remained on her lips. I barely saw it, though, because my eyes were fixed beyond her, on the wooden rails that were spattered with blood. I could not see inside, but the smoke rising from the center of the enclosure turned my fear to despair. I frantically shook my head and yelled, "No, no, please, god, no!" and fell to my knees as she approached me, her red hair blowing wildly in the breeze from the open window. Tears overflowed from my eyes that never left the purple-tinged fire as it raged on and began to consume everything in its path. I felt as though my body was imploding from anguish, and when she laughed again, I was filled with pure hatred. I hopped to my feet, grabbing her by the neck and shoving her against the only wall that had not been destroyed by flames.
"Go ahead, Isabella," she taunted me. "Kill me. It won't change the fact that, once again, you're too late. Even if you survive, you'll always be alone." Her laughter trilled through my ears as her final words echoed into my waking mind, drowning out the sound of my own screams. Long after the dream had ended, long after I had sat back and tried to analyze every element of what I had seen, her voice haunted me.
Much of the dream was still a mystery. True, I had recognized Victoria and I understood her hatred for me, but I did not know the city I had left before running home to Forks and I did not know why the smoke I had seemed to recognize in my dream would create such a deep feeling of loss and hopelessness. I had never seen a violet fire before, and the sight of it seemed to instantly devastate me more than seeing my father lying dead on the floor. It made no sense.
I realized that I could handle the confusion of the dream, but I could not handle the reality that hit me at the memory of Victoria. I had no idea where she was right now, or what her plans were, but I did know what she was capable of and that I was responsible for the death of her mate. If she chose to make me pay for that, I also knew that I was no longer protected against whatever vile thing she chose to do to me, because I no longer had the luxury of a psychic best friend and a coven of vampires willing to fight for me. My heart started racing as I realized that they had left me here to die. The crazy thing was—I could handle that. Part of me even welcomed that. What I could not handle was the idea of Charlie paying the consequences for my mistakes. He didn't ask to be involved in the world of not-so-make-believe. He didn't ask to raise a daughter that had her own gravitational pull toward everything dangerous and absurd. He didn't deserve to die because I had chosen to love a vampire. What had I done? And, more importantly, what was I going to do?
When my alarm sounded, I smacked it off and quickly got out of bed. I went through the familiar motions of getting ready for school as I wondered for the umpteenth time if things would have been better had James just killed me last year. The Cullens could have gone on with their lives and Charlie would be safe and I would be—gone. Everything would just be…better. But what good was dwelling in the past? I couldn't change what had happened on that day, and if I wanted to protect my dad, I needed to start thinking about what I was going to do in the future.
I concentrated on keeping my thoughts neutral as I drove to school. I pulled into an empty parking space and watched as the familiar students formed their cliques and not-so-subtly pointed in the direction of my truck. I guess I'm front-page news again I thought as I leaned my head against the cool steering wheel. Awesome. I prayed to whatever gods would listen that the numbness would return to me when I realized that I could no longer put off entering my first classroom.
I walked into English and took my seat in the back of the classroom, thankful that Mr. Berty was a kind soul and did not make a big fuss about my return. I focused my eyes straight ahead and tried to give my full attention to the lecture material rather than the stares and whispers of my classmates.
"Alright, class, let's clear our mind of weekend adventures and dive back into some mythology, shall we? Now, you should all be familiar with the Trojan War, its causes, the influence of the gods on the outcome of the war, the battle between Hector and Achilles and the eventual fall of Troy, all of which will be topics for your exam at the end of this week." A collective groan could be heard throughout the classroom before Mr. Berty continued, "On Friday, we began our study of what happened after the war by looking at the adventures of Aeneas, the half-human son of the goddess Aphrodite, or Venus, as she is known in Dido and Aeneas. I would like to pick up with the movie where we left off, as Aeneas is about to meet Dido, the Queen of Carthage. Please remember to pay attention, as I will be stopping the film momentarily to ask questions and highlight the key points."
Mr. Berty started the DVD player, and I realized that he was forcing us to watch an opera; luckily he had the subtitles on so that I was actually able to tell what the characters were singing. I found myself engrossed in the story after awhile, and tears slowly fell from my eyes as Dido sang her final words. "Death is now a welcome guest. When I am laid in earth, may my wrongs create no trouble in thy breast. Remember me, but ah! Forget my fate."
When the movie ended and the lights were switched back on, I quickly brushed the tears from my eyes, and returned my attention to Mr. Berty. "This tale follows a similar pattern of many of the Greek adventures. We have our hero, Aeneas, who is destined for glory as the founder of the Roman race, but as the gods interfere, always trying to augment their own agendas, the hero finds himself on a long and adventurous journey. In this case, Aeneas finds himself in Carthage, where Queen Dido falls in love with him, a love that turns tragic when Aeneas eventually leaves her behind so that he may complete his destiny.
In this story of love, we are provided another example of a common theme in Greek mythology: there is rarely a happily ever after for the lovers. In this case, Dido has given herself completely to Aeneas, betraying her duties as queen and leaving her city to weaken. When he leaves her, she commits suicide with his dagger. Other stories have the women betraying their families rather than their subjects, but the men to whom they have given their love, their allegiance, always become disloyal.
So the question I would like you to toss about in your young minds is this: do you believe that blood runs thicker than water or are there times when one should betray his or her family for reasons such as love? Be prepared to discuss this topic at the start of tomorrow's lecture. Have a great day, and don't forget to study for your exam!"
The bell was about to ring, and people were scrambling to pack up their belongings, but I was frozen in place, staring at the empty seat next to me that I had sworn I would not look at, and contemplating Mr. Berty's words and how they, inexplicably, related to my life. I was that girl, the one who betrayed her family. I had placed both Charlie and Renee in danger countless times because of some foolish, unrequited love. And unless I made some good decisions soon, I might never be able to undo that betrayal. Charlie would wind up like he was in my dream. I started breathing heavily as my stomach churned in fear. Victoria's words—she was right. I would wind up all alone.
I rose from my chair and raced to the bathroom in time to deposit the strawberry pop tart I had eaten for breakfast into the nearest toilet. When I had finished heaving, I sat inside the bathroom stall as I tried to block out the images from my dream.
"Bella?" a quiet voice said outside the door. It was Angela. "I saw you run in here after English class, so I thought I'd pack up your books and bring them to you." She paused, waiting for a reply, but I didn't give one. "Okay, well, I hope you start feeling better, and if you want to talk or you need some help getting to the nurse or something, I'll be right in the next classroom."
I waited until after I heard her leave the bathroom to emerge from my stall. I rinsed out my mouth and splashed some cool water on my face before grabbing my books and rushing to get to my next class. I spent the entire walk to the physics lab forcing the troubling thoughts from my head. I somehow managed to make it through the lecture on vectors before it was time to make my way to the cafeteria.
I wasn't hungry when I entered the lunch room, so I didn't bother getting in line to purchase food. I sat down far away from my usual table, hoping that everyone would take the hint to leave me alone. I laid my head on my arms, closed my eyes and tried desperately to phase everything out. It almost worked.
I periodically checked the clock on the wall in front of me to make sure I didn't stay in the cafeteria too long, and when the lunch period was almost over, I heard footsteps behind me and familiar voices chattering away. Most of their words did not register, but I heard every word that left Lauren's mouth.
"Poor, pitiful Bella. Looks like Cullen finally realized she wasn't worth his time, but now she's too high and mighty to associate with us. What a loser." I looked in her direction when I heard her voice and my eyes filled with tears as her words and laughter poured salt in the deep wounds of my soul. She was right about the first part. I wasn't good enough for them and deep down, I had always known it. And now, what had always been painfully obvious to everyone else was being rubbed in my foolish face. I watched Lauren and Jessica exit the cafeteria and then I grabbed my bag and ran through the double doors toward my truck. To hell with school. To hell with everything.
I put the key in the ignition and my truck roared to life. As I was leaving the parking lot, I thought I saw Angela running in my direction, but I didn't stop to listen to her apologize for the cruel words her "friends" had spoken. I drove as fast as my old vehicle would go until I arrived in front of my empty house. After I parked, I stayed in my truck for awhile and let the sobs take over me. I leaned my head against the steering wheel and let my body shake as the tears poured from my eyes. I squeezed my keys as hard as I could, trying to use physical pain as an outlet for my emotional torment. It felt surprisingly good, but a sharp edge on one of the older keys had broken through my skin and the familiar rusty scent of my blood reached my nose quickly. I started to feel faint and I knew I needed to get into my house and up to my room before Charlie got home and found me passed out in my truck.
I walked slowly to the front door and unlocked it with the hidden key. I didn't bother to return the key to its proper place before I entered the house and gently pushed the door closed because I just didn't see the point. I clambered up the steps and unconsciously reached to open my bedroom door with the hand that had been bloodied by my keys. As soon as I saw the blood, the nausea that I thought had passed returned and I ran to the bathroom. I tripped over the doorjamb as I entered and slammed my knee into the bathtub. Before I could make it to the toilet, I threw up. There wasn't much in my stomach to expel, but what had been there covered my shirt and parts of the shower curtain and floor.
Stupid, clumsy, foolish Bella, I thought. No wonder they got tired of you. I carefully got to my feet and removed my stained shirt as I cried angry tears and silently berated myself for all the things I couldn't seem to do right. I leaned down to the sink and splashed cool water on my face, then leaned against the counter for a few minutes until the queasiness ended. I looked up at my reflection, knowing all too well that I wouldn't be happy with the girl in the mirror.
I gasped as I saw myself. But it was not because of the dark bruise-like shadows that were beneath my eyes or the way my skin looked sickly pale and sunken against the bones of my face. I swallowed hard and stared at my reflection as I lifted my hand and pressed it against my stomach which, despite the sustenance that I had not received during the past week, was undeniably swollen.
A big super HUGE hank you to everyone who has left reviews! They are definite writing motivators and are extremely appreciated! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and look forward to the next :)
