Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

A/N: From now on updates on this may be sporadic. I'm out of spirits lately…writing is hard these days. And I'm also working on my original stuff. So please be patient.

Massacre
Chapter Four

Bella laid her backpack on the kitchen table. She'd get to the homework after she ate something.

"Hey," A voice said, and Bella jumped, dropping everything she had in her hands.

"Jacob," She sighed, putting her fingers up to her neck to time her pulse. "Oh! You scared me."

"I'm just sneaky like that," He grinned. He walked over and bent to pick up everything off the floor.

"Yeah, you better pick all of that up," Bella said, giggling. Being with Jacob made her feel like a little kid again.

"Don't people usually say all the 'Aw, you don't have to, let me' crap?" Jacob put the jars and loaf of bread on the table next to Bella's backpack.

"Well, it's your fault I dropped it." Bella said, moving her backpack onto a chair. "Want a PB&J?"

"Sure, it's been a long time since I've had one." Jacob pulled out a chair and sat in it. "How are you? You seem good."

"I'm alright." Bella lied, smearing some peanut butter onto a piece of bread. "I could be better." She placed the finished sandwiches on a plate and passed one to Jacob. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm pretty good. Now." Jacob hinted, taking a huge bite out of the sandwich.

Bella avoided talking about the meaning behind his words and sat up. As she did so she noticed how Jacob towered over her, even when he was sitting.

"Did you get taller?" She asked.

Jacob stiffened. "Yeah…growth spurts."

Bella didn't try to find the meaning behind his now erect posture, but instead finished her sandwich.

"So…did you come over for a reason?"

"Kind of," Jacob said. "What, can't I just come to see an old friend?"

Bella smiled, "Hey, I'm not that old."

"You know what I mean," Jacob teased. "I know you're not that old. You could pass for sixteen."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Yeah right."

"I'm serious. Though it's only been about a day since your birthday…maybe in a year you'll look your age."

She knew Jacob was teasing. But the prospect of getting older, and not with…him by her side, coupled with the mention of her disastrous birthday…it broke the good mood she had been in. She tried to grasp onto the remaining fragments of calm, but they just weren't enough.

"Bella?" Jacob waved a hand in front of her face, "You okay?"

"Yeah," She answered, her voice dead. "Just…zoned out a bit there."

"Oh." Jacob said, looking down at the table. "I get it."

She didn't say anything.

"Sorry," He mumbled, getting up. "I should learn to keep my mouth shut."

"No, Jake," She said, standing up and walking in front of him. Maybe the use of his childhood nickname would semi-heal the mood she'd dragged him into. "It's not you, it's not your fault."

"I know." Jacob scratched the back of his head. "I don't like seeing you sad. I don't like bringing things up, even if it was indirectly, that make you sad. You being sad makes me sad, too."

His simple confession brought a terrified feeling to Bella. Perhaps Jacob hadn't gotten over his little crush on her over the time she hadn't seen him.

To save them both from a particularly dangerous situation, she backed away and sat back down. She told herself she hadn't seen the look of rejection come over Jacob's face. But she knew it would haunt her.

"Of course," She cleared her throat. "Um, don't worry about it."

He brought his head up in a nod in her direction. "I'll leave…you probably have homework."

She told herself to let him go. She battled the feeling to get up and tell him she was sorry. She told herself asking him to stay would only make him feel worse in the end.

His heavy footsteps echoed, along with the harsh slam of the door. A few spoons and pots hanging on the racks clattered together, filling the silence.

The phone rang but Bella didn't get up to answer it. She got up and moved sluggishly up the stairs for a nap.

Her room seemed bleak and empty. She'd already cleaned it, so all she could do was flop onto the bed. The sheets smelled distinctly like him and she wondered briefly if she should change them. After a few inhales, she got up and told herself she needed to forget.

She striped the bed and shoved the sheets and blanket down into her laundry basket, which was only a quarter full. She also placed the pillow that laid on his side in to be washed.

When she was finished she decided she didn't want to be in the room anymore and made her way downstairs.

She jumped when she saw Charlie at the table. He had his head bent forward, reading the newspaper he hadn't had time to read that morning. He was eating some sort of cereal and Bella felt bad for both not realizing he was home and not having dinner ready.

"Hey, Bells," He greeted, getting up from the table and placing his bowl in the sink.

When he turned around he came and gathered Bella into a hug.

"Hey Dad," She said, hugging him back awkwardly. He really must have been trying if he was willing to hug her; Charlie really wasn't one for contact besides a formal handshake.

"How was your day?" He asked.

"Um, slow." Bella shrugged, turning on the sink and washing the dishes.

"The kids at school givin' you a tough time?"

"Kind of, but I can handle it."

"That's my girl." He gave her shoulder a short, affectionate pat before leaving the room.

When she had finished washing the dishes Bella walked into the living room. Charlie was watching some game on TV; it looked like baseball.

"Are you still hungry? Sorry you had to eat cereal," She said, watching as one player hit the ball.

"Ah! Shoot! Get him out, catch the damn ball!" Charlie shouted at the TV. "Uh, not really. If you make something I'll have some."

Bella nodded to herself. "So...who's winning?"

"It's the old grudge game, y'know? The Red Soxs are playin' the Yankees." Charlie shook his head. "It's not an official game for the Series, just some sort of 'My-Team-Is-Better-Than-Yours' match between the coaches." Charlie took a drink of the soda he must have brought with him. Bella wondered why she hadn't noticed before tuning back into what her father was saying. "So far the Sox are up by two but it's only the third inning."

Bella couldn't make head or tails of his sports-talk, so she just nodded.

A while and three strike-outs for the Yankees later, Bella got up to make something small to eat. Her stomach couldn't handle much, but she knew she had to eat sometime.

She decided on some simple pasta. They could have the leftovers tomorrow.

As the water heated up she picked up the discarded newspaper that was on the table.

SEATTLE IS RAVAGED BY MYSTERIOUS MURDERS

Bella's eyes moved from side to side swiftly as she skimmed the story. Something about no evidence, and traces of smoke.

She folded the paper back up and placed it on the table, noticing now that the water was bubbling.

She quickly dumped the hard pasta shells into the water and stood, stirring it gently to prevent its burning.

She strained it when the pasta was ready, then stirred the sauce in. When she had finally sat down to eat, her eyes drifted back to the paper.

Simply reading the article wouldn't hurt, would it? Of course not. She picked the paper back up and read the full article as she ate her food.

Nothing was particularly horrendous; the title seemed to exaggerate the murders. It was simply stated that the bodies seemed completely whole, only small wounds on the neck and the pale blue of their skin the only clues to their misfortune.

The murderer wasn't caught yet, this worried her only slightly. She'd never had a particular care for her physical safety. He'd always assured me that, she thought bitterly. Then the thinking of him made her heart twinge as if it was trying to cower back in his chest; as if it was scared of the mention of him in either thoughts or words. She lay her hand over where her heart was thump-thumping and flinched.

She skimmed over the portion of the article she hadn't read and folded it back up.

By the time she had finished washing her dishes and had packed up the rest of the pizza, she could hear Charlie's loud snores.

She walked into the living room to find him slumped over, laying down, and sleeping on the couch. She laughed quietly to herself and laid a thin blanket over him. She kissed his forehead and grabbed the remote from his sleep-still hand.

She breezed through channels as she sat on the floor in front of the couch, not quite tired yet. She landed on channel 53, which was showing Pride and Prejudice. She found herself not distracted by the romance she so loved and more distracted by her thoughts, which were taking a dangerous turn.

It had come to Bella's knowledge that the time she would miss him the most was probably at night. Without his embrace wrapped around her, keeping her safe but such a risk, and his cold breath on her head as he breathed deep the scent of her hair to lull her asleep, as well as the constant hum of her own special melody, she would know she would feel the difference.

The first few nights of his absence she had been too tired and too miserable to take note of the changes in her sleep patterns; the one she'd developed and gotten used to because of him. She'd just passed out as her head hit her pillow, which, by then, she had changed so that it was free of his scent. She had deemed this a good thing. One less constant reminder.

She shook her head and brought herself to the present. She still wasn't tired. Thinking of his absence only dampened her mood, which she was desperately trying to keep stoical.

She turned the TV off after half an hour or so of absent-minded watching. The noise had gotten to be annoying, anyway.

She moved sluggishly up the stairs and slid into her bed, shutting her eyes tightly. The bed was cold without the warmth of someone to warm it up, and the cold reminded her of him. She wondered briefly if she'd somehow always make connections to him. A lifetime of reminders sounded painful and she swallowed back her fear.

Finally, she feel into an uneasy sleep.

---

It wasn't long before she awoke, tears staining her cold cheeks. She was so cold.

She hurriedly jumped into the shower, turning the nozzle up until the water was boiling hot, burning her skin and turning it a raw red.

Once she was finished she got dressed and got back into bed, but she was still cold. She realized the lack of warmth was in her chest, not on her skin. She touched her skin lightly and winced at its tenderness. She turned her head into the pillow and breathed heavily.

She hadn't woken up from a nightmare, not really. In fact, the dream could be considered blissful if it belonged to anyone else.

But no, it was hers. It had been about him, of course. She'd gotten used to dreaming of him, but now it hurt. They had been happy; laughing, holding each other, kissing. Bella could almost feel how hard her heart had been pounding with her exuberance in the dream.

The happiness, of course, was shattered when she awoke. It all broken down into the little pieces that now made up her heart.

Bella didn't go back to sleep that night.

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A/N: REMINDER: From now on updates will be random. Working with a schedule is harder than I thought. Also: I am on twitter now. Just go to the my profile for the link or you can find me under "Mari Wright." I will give updates on stories and such.