I stumbled off the plane. I didn't even smile at the corny fake palm trees and the bathing suits sold in the gift shop in this airport.
I felt nothing anymore.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for the pain to stop. I hadn't slept on the flight over, listening to Paramore's first CD, All We Know Is Falling, on repeat. Lyrics drifted in and out of my consciousness, like ghosts of memories past...
My heart, it beats, beats for only you. My heart is yours...
I shook my head again, the lyrics being erased like an etch-a-sketch. If only all of my thoughts would leave like that, easy & painless.
"Lee!" a woman's voice exclaimed, and I saw the hispanic nurse who I've gotten to know over the years run towards me. She had dark brown locks, and reached the height of 5'2". She'd been my mother when I was in Florida, and she was one of the few people here I actually liked. I hugged her back feverishly, smelling the faint scent of Pine Sol on her."Sandy!" I cried, hugging her again. A wave of memories.
Sandy. Sandy. Dad. Dad. Dad.
My windpipe tightened, and I gasped.
"Oh, baby, don't cry!" she whispered softly, her warm breath giving me another hug as I started sobbing. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes." I said. It was sort of true. I ate some saltine crackers on the seven hour plane ride over just so I wouldn't puke from my fright of flying. That was all I'd had since the day I left.
"Come on, lets go home. The funeral will be tonight, then we can get you back to Forks with all of your stuff." she cooed, rubbing my back as she tried to keep up with my long strides.
We got my luggage, and walked outside. The extreme humidity hit me like a brick wall, and I was surprised at how fast I sweat in the heat.
We got into the car, and we drove the whole ride completely silent, Sandy trying to slyly text someone while I just cried. I thought with all the crying I'd done in the last day I would've run out of tears. Guess not.
We got to the house. More tears.
It was a tiny one story, very drab with grey walls outside and one lone dying palm tree in the yard. The rest was brown from not being watered, and the path up to the house was large pebbles of a dark grey color. It was foreboding, even on the outside. You could tell someone died here.
I walked it with my bag, and opened the door.
Dad. Everything smelled of him, reminded me of him, everything looked as if he'd just walk through the living room to hug me in surprise for me coming home so soon.
I held back the pain in my chest and I went upstairs to my room.
I looked around. The walls were a light lavender, and I'd taped pictures of every single singer or group I'd ever listened to over my walls. Posters from movies, pictures of my dad, mom and I together. The walls were a massive scrapbook from my past. The bed had a black comforter on it, and the inside sheets were a silky cotton I'd earned the money to buy for myself by working at the corner gas station last summer.
I looked into my closet. My clothes were all there, most I left because I knew I'd come back. At least, at the time.
Sandy came up, holding a massive bag at least a few inches taller than her with difficulty. I ran over and grabbed the beast of a bag and set it on my bed, top open.
"You should pack you stuff tonight so we can do the funeral services and go see the last will and testimate ceremony tomorrow, then just drop you off at the airport after." she said, her slight spanish accent coming through as she spoke at the speed of light.
I nodded my head, dreading going back. My mom had been trying to get me to talk to her since I ran out of the house, but I just locked myself in my room until I had to leave for the plane ride. I saw the wolf pass by in the woods at least seven times, looking in my window for me. I ignored him.
"Thank you, Sandy. Do you know what dad left me?" I questioned, not wanting to own this house that reminded me of him so much.
"I believe your father left you the house that would be sold after his death, and you'll take all of the money in his bank account. It isn't much because he wasn't working the last few months of his life, but it's enough to get you by for a while."
I nodded my head, and she left me in my room to pack.
I turned to the closet and let out a long sigh.
This will take a while...
After a few hours of me packing to Paramore blasting through my speakers, I heard the doorbell ring. I stopped, running to my door and looking down the hallway to the front door.
Sandy opened, and guess who was standing there as if he stopped by everyday?
Daemon.
All the air in my lungs suddenly escaped, causing me to cough uncontrollably. He looked down, and a small smile formed on his lips. I wanted to punch him so badly, but I just clenched my fist and glared.
Sandy looked at me, and her eyes went wide with knowing. She shuffled out of the room, knowing I was about to rip him a new one.
"What are you doing here?" I growled, walking up to him and making his smile flatter to a frown.
"I came to see how you were doing..."
"Shut up." I snapped, making his eyebrows go up, "if you truly cared how I was doing you would've been a man and told me you didn't like me instead of making me see you and that... slut practically eat each-other's faces off!"
He just stared at me as I fumed. I would be surprised, too. My personality isn't one to be like this, but I was just being honest.
"I really hurt you, didn't I?" he muttered, looking down at his feet. I felt bad, but I pushed my feelings for him to the back of my mind.
"No shit, sherlock. I..." I went off, trying to get myself to say it, "I loved you, and you obviously didn't like the idea of me."
"I did!" he exclaimed, taking me aback. "You just never... worked with me."
I suddenly laughed. I literally laughed out loud at him, and he just gave me a look as if I was crazy.
"Just because I'm not one of those girls that pulls down her pants and says 'have at me!' when I'm interested doesn't mean I'm not! It means I have more respect."
"Well..." he said, looking at me with his ice blue eyes that used to make me want to cry. Now they made me feel pure hatred. "Maybe I wasn't for you."
"What?"
"You aren't like most girls, Lee. You say your mind, you don't care what people think. You never want people to go out on a limb for you, but you'd jump out of an airplane without a parachute if it was to save someone you loved. I just... am not like you. I could never return the feelings as strong as yours, not in a million years. It made me feel like I was taking advantage, like I was being dishonest every time I said 'love' to you. You... you're amazing, Leann. Someone can be a total jerk to you and you still find some room in your heart to still have a soft spot for them. That's rare to find. No one would ever replace you, never. It just wouldn't work out between us, even if somehow I could return your feelings. It just wouldn't work."
I looked down at the floor, at my dirty sneakers. As if they'd tell me how to react, what to say.
"There is someone out there, Lee. I know it. I just wanted to tell you that with the small, superficial heart I do have, I love you, and care about you, and you'll always be important to me, no matter what."
I couldn't help it, I pulled him into a hug, and he returned wholeheartedly. It wasn't like the hugs we had when we were dating, but a friend's hug. The hugs I should have had with him all along. My mind had an epiphany, and I felt lighter already.
"Thank you." I smiled. He smiled back, and went down the stairs to the sidewalk.
"Daemon!" I exclaimed, just before he got out of sight, "how are you and Lizzy doing?"
"We broke up after you left. You're a pretty hard girlfriend to top." he laughed, and he walked away.
I felt a warm feeling come over me, and I smiled.
I knew he was right all along, yet I never thought about it. It didn't hurt to think about him, however quick I'd forgiven him, and I thought of him fondly since then. And I knew someone eventually MIGHT love me, but I doubted it.
I thought maybe I had someone in Forks, but obviously not there.
He did exist, though. He had to.
.::. .::. .::.
It was a closed casket service. I was the only family member there, sitting on the long bench by myself. I stood above the casket, and held back the tears. I missed him already.
I placed one single rose on the casket, and the group of men carrying the body into the back of the hearse picked up the box and walked slowly to the vehicle.
At the cemetery after everyone had gone, I sat on the granite bench placed before his grave, and read the grave stone.
'George Champagne, father, doctor, fought until his last breath. 1955-2008'
No more tears came. I knew he was in a better place, not in pain. He'd been battling the cancer for so long he couldn't move far enough to take care of himself. It had been time.
I stood up, and walked over to Sandy's van. I got in, and we went to see what he'd left for me.
I couldn't believe the number that was shown to me. I knew he was a doctor for more than thirty years, but I never knew the amount I would inherit would be this big. He also added the amount that I would be paid due to the house being sold, and he gave me some military bonds that had been passed down from his father after the great depression. It was staggering, but I just nodded and pretended like it mattered to me.
Everything else in the home other than what I wanted to keep was to be sold and the profit going towards my college fund. When we got home, I went around the house, picking things that I'd wanted to keep that reminded me of him and things I knew my mom would have killed me for if she knew I just sold them.
I placed them all in boxes, and had all of them sent overnight to Forks so they'd be coming to me after I arrived later that night.
Sandy and I said our last goodbyes, and I got her e-mail and phone number so we would stay in touch. As she tried to shuffle me into the van, I took one last look at the depressing house before me. When I was younger, it had been beautiful, bright, and full of life. Now, it just screamed abandoned. I felt remorse for leaving my first home for good, but also glad I could sever this tie I had to a place that never even really felt like home.
I knew Jacob and the pain would come flowing back when I landed in Port Angeles, but I didn't really care just yet.
Life's too short to get caught up in heartbreak and hatred. Sometimes life just gives you a slap in the face to make you realize you need to live. To truly live. Without regrets, without pain. Just living.
