Sorry that it was underlined again. For those of you who've been following along with Nightmare too, you know how much of a problem that is. Grr... I forgot to check this before I posted it, and of course it was underlined. Sorry. Those of you here on story alert, nothing new. My apologies :-(.
This chapter's about 500 words shorter than the other ones have been. My apologies x2.
Someone pointed out in a review that it wasn't fair to make people to review to get me to write more when I already knew people liked it. And that made me a little confused.
If this story gets a good enough response, it could very well continue all the way to the end of New Moon. But if, for example, this chapter gets no reviews all, I'm not going to randomly stop it at this chapter. I'll get to a good stopping point, e.g. maybe when Alice finally understands her mistake (which will probably be in the next chapter).
Therefore, you don't have to review to get me to write more. Though how far I go will depend on how large a response I get, there are certain stopping points. I won't just stop in a spot where it doesn't even make sense. Just thought I'd clear that up.
Now, on with chapter four! :-P
It took less than an hour to run from Sea-Tac to our old house. When I arrived, the house was stolid and proud, aloof. It seemed somehow smaller, now, retracting in on itself, but maybe that was just because of the advancing plant life around it. It seemed like it looked down upon the ferns as a lesser being, that it was trying valiantly to keep the encroaching tendrils from touching its perfect walls.
It seemed lonely, very lonely, as much as it tried to hide it. Its inhabitants had moved on and it was still here, surviving until someone came back and turned it around and made it a home again.
But right now it was just empty and sad, trying to keep its distance from everything and failing.
The meadow surrounding the house was so overgrown that it was up past my waist as I hurried past it to the garage, as fast as I could run. Partly because I was in a hurry, but part of it was because I didn't want to see the house, empty as it was. I could see the interior all too clearly in my mind, the dust covers making all the furniture white ghosts, the dusty light filtering in through the big windows, the tall ceilings dark and shadowy. It would be covered in dust and maybe even a little mold might be creeping in on the windowsills or the sink.
The garage wasn't in the best of conditions either, but at least it seemed a little more occupied, maybe because of the cars that still filled it. Carlisle's car was here, and so was Edward's Volvo. Rosalie had flat-out refused to part with her convertible, and Emmett hadn't seemed particularly keen on leaving his Jeep, either - besides, he had pointed out, there was a lot of wilderness in Alaska that required an off-road vehicle.
I thought about taking Edward's car - I liked the Volvo better than Carlisle's Mercedes, even though his was faster, but I quickly decided against that idea as I realized that Charlie would definitely recognize it. And be angered by it. Though Charlie may be happy to see me, he sure as hell would not be happy to see Edward.
So I climbed into the Mercedes and backed the car out down the driveway. I didn't go too much over the speed limit on the driveway, painfully aware of every scratch the overgrowth was making on the paint job. I would have to remember to fix that before I went home.
Once I hit the open highway, I floored the gas pedal and was at Bella's house in four minutes flat. There was no one there. It was uncomfortable - well, more than that, downright scary - not to be able to know for sure whether someone would be home. Bella, of course, wouldn't be, but Charlie was still eluding my visions and that scared me more than anything else.
The house was dark. I tried the door, unsure what I would do if it was locked. I couldn't pick it - what would Charlie think when he came home? Hi, Charlie, I know I haven't seen you in seven months and that I was the reason for your daughter's suicide, but I came by to say hi and your door was locked so I picked it. Hope you don't mind. Yup, that was what I would say.
Luckily, the door did open when I tried it - the crime rate in Forks was so low there was really no point to locking it - but I kept the lights off as I wandered through the house. I wondered where Charlie was - at work? That seemed plausible. Or at someone else's house, trying to cope with his grief or making funeral plans. But when would he be home?
I had decided my plan while I was still on the plane: I had been in the area, checking out the University of Washington in Seattle, and had decided to stop by to visit.
I went into the kitchen, to look for some clue as to where Charlie might be. There was nothing - it was scrupulously clean, not a crumb on the countertops or a drop of water in the sink to suggest anyone had been her recently.
There was also a faint smell in the kitchen - animalistic, almost doglike. Had Bella gotten a pet?
I wandered up the stairs to Bella's room. It, too, was more tidy than it had ever been when we were living here - no clothes on the floor or on the back of the rocking chair, all the books neatly on their shelves. And - where they in alphabetical order? Yes, they were, I confirmed, stepping closer. The bed looked like it had been ironed, the comforter was so tight and smooth.
It was like no one had been living here - I would have been afraid of that, if I couldn't smell her scent laced all over the room. And again, that faint dog smell - why?
Another subtle detail - there were no CD's. Bella had had at least a dozen, I knew for sure - now there were none at all.
What had been going on since we had left? I was growing more wary by the second. This was not Bella's room. Bella did not alphabetize her books. Bella's room was not this neat. And Bella listened to music. And - what I found the most disturbing - Bella did not have a dog.
Charlie had to get home soon. He had a few questions to answer.
Almost as soon as I thought the words, I heard a car drive along the street. It was silent - no one was talking, there was no music playing. Unusual. Two people - two heartbeats.
With a shocked gasp, I recognized both scents. The first one was the dog smell I had been wondering about, but it was so much stronger. Before, when there was just traces, it had smelled mildly unpleasant, but nothing overwhelming. Now, even from yards away, it absolutely reeked. It wasn't human - that much I was sure about. No human smelled that repulsive.
The other smell, I was positive of it, was Bella's. Bella, who was supposed to be dead.
The car pulled out in front of the house and stopped, the engine going silent. That, too, I recognized, when I saw it. It was Bella's truck.
I tried to make a sentence of the stuff I was positive about.
Bella, who had committed suicide, was driving her truck with someone who was definitely not human.
What the hell was going on?
I couldn't see the people in the truck. I was at the wrong angle. But I could hear quite clearly the rustle of clothing and then, after a moment, a deep, throaty voice saying, "Sorry. I know you don't feel exactly the way I do, Bells. I swear I don't mind. I'm just so glad you're okay I could sing - and that's something no one wants to hear."
So it was definitely Bella in the car. With someone I did not know. The voice struck no chord in my memory.
Someone's breathing accelerated.
After another long moment someone opened the door halfway, taking a deep breath, then, half a second later, breathed out again just as hard and slammed the door.
"Holy crap!" the voice said, anger apparent.
"What's wrong?" asked the second voice, and there was no mistaking it, it was Bella.
It was at that moment that I lost complete faith in my visions and began to panic. I had seen Bella jump off the cliff and here she was, less than thirty feet away from me. I could no longer see Charlie. For all I knew, Edward could be at Tanya's right now.
The truck attempted to start but failed as the first voice, the unknown one, spat "Vampires."
He knew.
He knew.
What had Bella done? What could possibly have possessed her to make her tell someone our secret?
Anger flooded through me. Didn't she know what this meant? How serious this was? What the Volturi would do when they found out?
Suddenly, a line from Disney's Hercules went through my mind: If. If he finds out. It had been made in reference to Hades, when Pain and Panic hadn't made Hercules fully human, but it certainly worked for this situation. Who said they needed to know? As long as we made sure whoever it was never told a soul - Jasper had ways of doing that, what with all his work with J. Jenks - there was no need for the Volturi to get involved.
If is good.
Review! 25 reviews to go to my goal!
Goal for this chapter: 8!