A/N: Helloooo! :)
I've decided to do FF recommendations, for every chapter I write.
Today's fic is Paper CutOuts by twistedcoincidence – such a good story! I looove it :)
I got more reviewers, yay!
kouga's older woman – Thanks for the review! & don't worry, it's gonna be uphill (ish) from now haha
pdllss244 – Thanks for your review! Enjoy this chapter :)
PLL92gal – Thanks for the review! Enjoy :)
Guest (sorry, no name!) – Thank you for your review! Here's your update!
"Courage is found in unlikely places."
―J.R.R. Tolkien
Slumping onto the wood-soaked bench, I sigh internally and close my eyes. I am exhausted and cold. For the past hour, I've been stumbling around in the heavy rain, looking for anywhere to stay for the next couple of days. I have no idea where I am in Forks at all, and the fact that there are no signs of any hotels really doesn't help my nerves right now – heck, I'd even take a motel, I'm feeling that desperate.
I jump in fear as the sound of thunder rumbles ahead. I breathe out a fast and shaky breath, looking up at the sky, obscured by bleak, grey clouds. Sombre darkness has slowly faded into light, and I can hear the chirping of birds above me, as they soar through the sky.
For some reason, this doesn't comfort me; it makes me feel worse.
Because now it is early morning, I have to face up to what I did last night and cannot ignore it any more. I cannot hide in the comforting darkness of the night; rather, I am stripped bare of any chance to blend into the background, with the shadows of my past haunting me.
Tears pool into my eyes as I think about what I have done, and what Jacob had done.
Why did he have to be the way he was? I think sadly. If only he was still the man he used to be. It would've been perfect.
Stop self-pitying! My subconscious mind shouts. If it wasn't meant to be, it wasn't meant to be.
But I still can't stop thinking about it.
What if Jacob finds me? Oh God, what would I do? He would take me back to that hell house as a prisoner. And just to make things easier for him, I'd be sat out here on a cold bench; not hidden away from him in the warmth of closed doors.
Oh, no. What have I done?!
My heart sinks into my stomach, as I realise there's no-one to help me through this.
I'm all on my own, I think with fear. Tears burn my puffy eyes as I anxiously scan the cold and desolate park, making sure Jacob hasn't somehow found me. But it's no use. My vision is blurred; the colours of the red swing set and green grass merging together as one.
The swing set. The rumble of thunder emerges from the skies, as memories of outings to the park with my beautiful parents fill my mind.
How ironic. The one place I loved to visit as a happy reminder of Renee and Charlie, now a place of tears and sadness. I miss my parents. I want them here with me.
Help me, mom and dad.
Thinking of my parents intensifies the pain in my heart, and I cover my mouth, unable to control my emotions bubbling over. Hot tears spill, descending their way down my cold cheeks, leaving behind a burning trail. My body shakes and shakes with the sobs wracking through me; it's all too much.
My stomach churns and I tremble, clinging onto my throat with both of my hands. I choke over my sobs, trying to inhale. Oh, God, I can't breathe – a panic attack.
Oh, crap.
I whimper, trying my hardest to remember what Doctor Jane advised me to do when the time was to come.
My heart hammers, trying to force its way out of my chest. I'm so scared.
Come on, Bella! Furrowing my brows, more tears fall from my eyes, as I realise I don't know what to do.
I fall off the bench onto the wet and dirty floor, hunching my head to my knees; focusing on breathing in and out.
Breathe, Bella!
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
I carry on this mantra, until I can breathe properly; willing my heart beat to slow down.
My breaths are shallow and quick, as I greedily gulp down air.
I don't know how long I sit there with my eyes closed, waiting for my body to calm down. But when I look up, the sun is shining brightly and there are people going about their daily errands.
What time is it? I drowsily think, wishing that I had brought my watch with me before I escaped.
Slowly standing up, I stretch my sore, lethargic body, touching my jean pocket to make sure my money hasn't got wet by the rain. I'd better get out of here before I start getting weird looks.
Sluggishly walking on jelly-like legs, I make my way out of the entrance of the playground and onto the sidewalk; catching a beautiful woman looking at me sympathetically. She's dressed very nicely, and I briefly wonder where she is going.
I tense as she walks over to me; my paranoid mind wondering if she knows Jacob and is going to take me back.
However, my thoughts are interrupted when she reaches into her purse and sticks out a ten dollar note, smiling encouragingly.
Oh. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I stare at her flawlessly manicured hands.
She thinks I'm a homeless woman. My cheeks flame as I try to find the right words to say to her.
Looking up into her warm hazel eyes, I'm instantly reminded of my mom. Her hair is honey brown and cascades down her face in soft curls. She really is beautiful, I think, self-consciously.
I smile tightly at her, and my lip stings where Jacob hit me. I think its split open; however, I don't want to appear ungrateful.
"Um… thank you. But I don't need it. I have money. Thank you, though." I hoarsely stutter, wincing at my lip.
This time, the woman's face flushes as she realises I'm not homeless.
Well technically, I am.
"Oh." She smiles embarrassedly. "I'm sorry dear, I feel awful."
"It's ok, thank you anyway." I speak quietly, looking down at the sidewalk, knotting my hands together.
She reaches into her handbag again, but this time she pulls out a tissue.
"Here you go, dear. Your lip is bleeding." She smiles softly at me, offering me the tissue.
Tears well in my eyes at her thoughtfulness. It's been a while since somebody cared. "Thank you," I sniff, taking the tissue off of her.
Dabbing my lip, I wince as it stings. I can feel her eyes roaming my face, my imperfections. I feel uncomfortable. Her brow furrows as she inspects my appearance, and I feel self-conscious.
"Are you ok?"
Looking up, I force a smile and reply that I'm fine.
"Actually," I quickly add, "do you know of any hotels nearby?"
"Oh! There is a motel that I know of. I've never been there myself, but I'm not really familiar with other hotels - Forks isn't exactly known for its tourists," she jokingly grins.
"That's fine, thanks." I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, I can sleep!
The kind lady writes down the motel's address on another tissue and hands it to me.
"Thank you so much," I softly smile, folding up the tissue carefully and putting it into the front pocket of my jeans.
"Oh, it's no worries at all, dear. I'm glad to help." Her smile falters when she sees the ugly purple bruise on my stomach, as my top rides up. Oh, crap.
"Um… are you sure you're-"
"Goodbye, thank you for your help. Have a good day." I cut her off, panicking and quickly walk away down the side-walk.
Once I'm away at a safe distance, I hide behind a building and peek where I was standing with the lady. Luckily, she's gone.
Thank God, I think with relief. That was a close one.
Putting my hand in my pocket, I retrieve the tissue lettered with the address and directions of the motel. I'm about to start walking, when I notice many people glancing at me with looks of curiosity and pity.
Oh, my God. I bet I do look homeless.
Feeling uncomfortable and naked with strangers looking at me, I pull my hood up until it skims the top of my forehead, and make my way towards the place of my much needed rest.
Looking up at the sign on the building, I smile proudly as the words match the ones written on the tissue.
Pacific Inn Motel.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I step into the door and I am immediately surrounded with the smell of smoke and greasy food.
Beggars can't be choosers, I guess.
Walking up to the reception, I clear my throat at the woman at the desk, trying to get her attention.
"Hello there, and welcome to Pacif-." She breaks off as she looks up from the computer, her mouth opening as she examines my appearance.
I feel my cheeks get hot, and I pull the hood tighter around me, staring at her name tag. Lauren.
"Ah…um..." She clears her throat and plasters on a fake smile, reminding me of my own. "Hi there. Welcome to Pacific Inn Motel, what can I do for you?"
"Hi. I'd like a room for one person, please. Isabella Swan." I reply, feeling uncomfortable at her 'discreet' judgemental looks. She types something on the computer and then looks over at me.
"How many nights are you wanting to stay, Miss Swan?"
"How much would it be to stay for five nights?" Please don't be too much, I think.
"Let me just check that for you," she smiles brightly, enough to nearly make my headache worse. "Take a seat, I'll be right back."
I sit on the edge of a beige sofa, trying to avoid the stains on it. Looking around, I can tell that this motel isn't for the glamorous. The desk of the reception has been painted bright orange, and looks as though it used to be a bar. There is paperwork scattered on it, a computer and a printer. What I think to be Lauren's breakfast is also on there, which reminds me of how hungry I am.
There is a stack of fishing magazines on the stool beside me, which reminds me of my dad. Smiling, I am about to pick one up, when I hear the receptionist's heels click on the wooden floorboard as she makes her back from the office.
Standing up, I make my way back over to the desk/bar and wait for her to finish whatever she's doing on the computer.
"Alright, so I've checked on the database, and for five nights, the total sum will be two hundred and fifty dollars. However, if you want a room with a built in kitchen, there will be a charge of an additional two hundred dollars."
Two hundred and fifty? That's not too bad, I sigh with relief.
Hmm… and the built in kitchen? Not trying to sound mean, but no thanks.
She raises her eyebrows expectantly, manicured fingers poised over the keyboard, waiting.
"I'll take the room without the kitchen, please." Putting my hand in my pocket, I pull out my money that I have been saving over the years. Some of it falls from my hand onto the floor, which grabs Lauren's attention. Bending over, I wince at the pain and pick it all up, feeling uncomfortable with her seeing the amount I have with me. Its' not that much, but hopefully enough to keep me off the streets until I find myself a job.
"You should have a purse for that amount of money!" She gasps at me, and I shrug lightly at her, handing her the money. "Thank you, Miss Swan. Here's your key and room number. Down the corridor to your left. Do you need a hand with your bags?" She looks confusedly around me, trying to figure out where my belongings are.
"Um…I'm fine, thanks. Don't have any bags with me. Bye." I smile tightly, following her directions to my room. Thank God, sleep!
I quickly unlock the door to room number four, and slump against it. Not taking in any of my surroundings, I lock it again and quickly head through another door to use the bathroom. Avoiding the mirror opposite me, I kick off my worn out Converse, peel off my socks, and remove my wet clothes.
It sure is chilly in here.
I throw them over the door to dry and then grab the not-so-fluffy towel, wrapping it around my body. I then climb into the single bed and revel in the greatest feeling of my sore and overtired body sinking into the mattress. Bliss.
I am asleep within seconds.