I'm glad to know you all enjoyed Edward's view on things.
About time, eh? 23 days later! Three weeks! Life is getting in the way again.
Thanks for everyone's support. :)
Well I disclaim: Twilight and its characters is property of Stephenie Meyer. Duh.
IV. SICUREZZA
I was scared.
I didn't know when I was going. I hoped that whenever I might end up, I'd still be able to fix my mistake and save my Edward. But I had this gut feeling that that probably wasn't the case.
My heart was terrified.
I almost wanted to cry, but where I was, that felt . . . impossible. I was a figment of nothing, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, except my own emotion. It was white, blindingly white, as if I were in a cage of mirrors with bright florescent lights beaming in every possible direction.
Making that comparison, a very small glow appeared ahead of me, darker than my surroundings. In the whole of five-odd seconds (more or less, time was broken here) it'd taken me to think and take in all this, I'd gone back in time.
So cliché! But very true.
I glided towards the glow, which had grown into a glistening, light blue haze about the size of a hand. I found my own hand at that moment, and stretched it out, releasing it into an unknown time — perhaps even place, if I'd gone far enough.
I hoped that, at least, no one would be around to see this. I wondered whether they would die from shock, or perhaps run away screaming. I couldn't choose between the two.
The dim light had expanded downward, and I heaved my foot into it as my hand went farther out. I inched my leg out more, losing my shin and thigh and hip in the process — I could no longer feel them.
At last I ducked my head and bent into the glow, and was met with an astonishing sight.
It was Edward! Oh, Edward. And he was okay! If anything, he was in perfect condition; nothing like when I'd left him in that alley. I let that thought register, and relief flooded through me. It made me feel dizzy. I tried to smile, but instead my eyes rolled back into my head, and I began to collapse.
While expecting the hard, cold pavement, the back of my head and my waist were instead met with cold, stiff hands. I fought against the fatigue and pried my eyes open.
His skin was so pale, whiter than I'd ever seen it. His hair was the same color, but longer — and I ached to reach a hand up and run my fingers through it. His jaw had that same, square shape to it, but it looked stronger; and his full lips were a faint pink-purple color, opened slightly in shock. His nose was flawlessly straight, much unlike the Edward's that I knew — his was a bit crooked (because in our sophomore year, he'd gotten kicked in the face by an over-excited soccer opponent). His cheekbones were much like his jaw, strong and prominent, and just like my Edward's.
But . . . I'd just reached his eyes. They weren't the green I remembered, the emeralds I'd always lost myself in . . . These were gold, molten topaz, and they were depthless.
"Edward?" My whisper trembled, giving away my fear. This wasn't Edward, and then it most definitely was him. It just . . . wasn't?
My hand moved of its own accord, like gravity was forcing it, toward his face.
His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed, his mouth contorted; his face grew very stiff. His hands clenched tightly at the hem of my blouse and into my hair. His eyes bore into mine, and if he was like the Edward I knew . . . he was clearly in conflict.
I continued to reach for his face.
Suddenly, Alicewas there. Alice? I wanted to cry again — this wasn't my Alice. She seemed the same, like this Edward, except she was not the best friend that I had grown up with.
She took me away from Edward, and I almost whimpered. I looked up at her face, and, seeing the bright gold gazing steadily back at me, gave in to the black relief from this nightmare.
Before I fully succumbed, I heard a menacing growl — it was deadly, and beautiful, and strangely familiar.
--
". . . I know now, just quite how, my life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind, I'll stay with you for all of time. . . . Oh good, you're awake." Alice turned the radio down and stopped singing, much to my disappointment — she was amazing, singing an octave above the lead singer's song.
"That song seems so old now," I sighed, staring out my window. Edward liked to consider that "our song," ever since eighth grade. I fought back a small laugh. It probably would have turned into a sob.
"What are you talking about?" Alice asked. I turned to look at her, expectant.
"It came out seven years ago — "
The widening of her eyes made my jaw clamp close. I knew that expression; she was beyond confused.
"It came out last year." I noticed that she wasn't watching the road. "What are you talking about?" she repeated.
I tried to answer her question, but then backtracked: Last year? But then that would mean —
"What year is it, Ali — ?" I stopped myself before I could say her name. Obviously she did not know me. . . . I tried not to dwell on that fact.
She continued stared at me, and it was then that I remembered she hadn't been looking at the road since I'd first spoken. "Holy crow!" I shouted involuntarily. "Alice, watch the road!" I almost grabbed the wheel in my panic.
Her face slacked. "You know me?" she asked slowly, her eyes glued on my face.
"Yes! I mean, no! I mean, will you just watch the road?" The volume of my voice had risen two octaves.
Instead, she slammed on the brakes. I would have flown into the windshield had she not flung her arm across my chest — hard; the gesture knocked me breathless.
"Who are you?"
I faced her with deliberate slowness. Who was this? This wasn't Alice . . . because if what she said was true, then it was the year 2002.
She should be eleven years old. But the girl in front of me was my age.
I couldn't breathe. I could barely see her face; black was clouding my vision. I felt dizzy again.
I felt a cold hand grasp my shoulder. "Breathe." Her quiet command brought me back to my senses.
"I'm Bella," I finally replied, almost wincing at the simplicity of my answer. "I can — er — travel through time." I grimaced at the impossibility and insanity of my words.
Her mouth opened in surprise, forming a small 'O' shape. She recovered quickly, and said, "Well, that explains things."
I did a double take. Her voice was shockingly calm.
Knowing Alice, she was just the opposite on the inside.
"Certain things, anyway," she continued, almost to herself. "Doesn't explain how you know me . . . but it does explain you coming out of thin air." Her eyes roamed my face. "How do you know my name?"
I sighed. "My best friend is Alice. Alice Brandon."
"What?" Her eyebrows rose.
"Mary Alice, but she doesn't care for her first name as much. She's been my best friend since we were six years old. She looks just like you, only her eyes are vibrant blue, and she's crazy about her boyfriend Jas — " I was babbling. I clamped my jaw closed again.
"Mary Alice . . . Brandon . . . that — that sounds familiar. . . . But I don't understand — "
I threw caution to the wind and decided to tell her everything. Flat out. "I live in the year 2008. I sent myself back, to try and save my boyfriend, Edward Masen — " Tears threatened to fall at the memory. ". . . Something went wrong, and instead of sending myself back a few hours to save him, I came out here. . . ." I trailed off with a gesture to our surroundings. "In 2002," I finished shakily.
"Edward . . . Masen?" she inquired.
"The love of my life," I said at once, feeling silly. But it was true.
She started. "That's impossible! That is in the future. . . . And Edward hasn't been a Masen since 1918. . . ." Her words baffled me. 1918?
"I'm from the future, but not yours. It's my own time, my present." This was getting hard to explain.
"So something went wrong?" she asked. I could hear the worry in her voice.
"Yes. And I'm not sure how to fix it. I've never . . . gone through this before. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get back, because if I go forward, I'll just be ahead in your time." My head fell into my hands. I was going to break down if I didn't stop speaking; talking about this was hard. "I don't know what to do!" I repeated. The tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I have to save him."
"Edward isn't yours . . ." she said slowly.
"I know." My hands made my voice hard to understand.
"And I've never seen you before in my life. . . .
"But you know us. You know our names, and — and that happened. . . . I saw it. I don't believe you're lying — I just . . . I still find this very hard to understand." Her brow furrowed and she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. "I don't know what to do either, Bella," she whispered.
"Oh, Alice," I moaned. A sob escaped through my lips; tears began to slowly fall down onto my fingers and palms and down my cheeks. I reluctantly pulled my hands from my face, and spoke brokenly to my window. "What if I can't get back? What if I do get back, and I can't save him? I have to save him. If I don't. . . ." I let out a wail. "I can't live without him."
"Shh," she comforted, sitting up. Her hand rubbed my shoulder. "You'll work this out. We'll all figure this out. Don't worry." She removed her hand and stared out the windshield.
After a couple minutes of silence, she finally spoke again. "They should be here soon." Abruptly, the car started and we made our way down a road canopied with trees.
"Where — where are we going?"
"Our home."
The trees flashed by at a dangerous blur. I rested my head in my hands and closed my eyes.
No more than a few minutes later, we again came to an abrupt halt. Alice's door opened, and, before it even closed, my own opened. I shook my head, confused; the loop through the years had really got to me, obviously. Staring at my feet, and with Alice's help, I slowly stood from the car.
I raised my eyes up to the astonishing three-story house in front of me. I think my jaw dropped at one point; I had to squint, because the light from the house illuminated brightly out of its windows — windows that took up its entire walls. What wasn't taken up by glass was gloriously white.
And at its front doors stood Edward, stiff and stunned. I wanted to run to him.
But he wasn't mine.
I collapsed to the ground, sobbing into my hands again.
Instantly, he was there — crouched down and staring at me, a few feet away. I felt a small hand at my back, rubbing soothing rhythms of comfort. Then Alice spoke,
"We should get you inside, Bella," she murmured inches from my ear. I sniffed and nodded, but didn't stand.
"Here," came a deep, musical voice. It was familiar, so similar to Edward's. . . .
I sobbed harder as his hand found the crook of my elbow, lifting me lightly to my feet. He started to guide me along slowly, barely taking a step. I pulled away gently.
"N-no, it's o-kay," I stuttered through hiccups. I tried to calm my breathing as I wiped the tears from my eyes and cheeks. "I-I'm f-f-fine." My voice choked at the absurdity of my words, and I fought back a moan.
Alice hummed in dissatisfaction, but let me blunder along up the steps on my own anyway. She followed slightly behind on my left, and Edward was a little ahead on my right.
It took quite a bit of control, keeping my eyes off him.
He opened the door for me and offered to show me my room. I barely heard his words — his voice was overly captivating. It had a tinge of the tone I was used to, and that was enough.
I counted the stairs as we made our way to the top floor. Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight. . . . I kept myself as distracted as possible.
"Here we are," he said, and his voice so quite that it was almost inaudible. I barely heard his next words — though that might have also been due to the pounding in my ears.
"Bathroom . . ." he gestured to the door at the end of the hall. "Alice's room, my room . . ." he pointed to two doors at the opposite end. "And the kitchen is just downstairs," he muttered, "but say the word and we'll bring something for you." He opened the door to the room and left abruptly after showing me in. I waited a minute, just staring out the black window in silence, before running to large, beige sofa and breaking down onto it, letting everything overwhelm me.
Don't really care for the way I ended it, but oh well. I'll get to finishing chapter five whenever I can. Thanks for sticking with me!
(The song that Alice sings is Wherever You Will Go by The Calling -- it's a few years old, and I thought it was appropriate.)