Chapter 7
Nightmare
My movie was halfway finished before I heard my dad's cruiser pull in and I rushed to open the door for him. He smiled when he saw me and pulled me in for a hug, but I quickly disentangled myself because he smelled so strongly of fish. He whistled "Old Mac Donald," while he took off his jacket. It was obvious that his fishing trip had gone well.
"You look like you had fun," I told him. He went into the coat closet and put away his fishing gear.
"Waylon and I went up to Lake Crescent to fish," he told me. "We caught a couple of good ones; they're out back in the freezer." I rolled my eyes.
"I'm glad you had fun," I told him. I stared at him closely, his face looked healthier and the shadows were less distinct. The trip had definitely done him good, I was glad to insist he go.
"How about you?" he asked. "Have fun on your trip?"
"Yeah, it was...informative," I told him. He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "I met Billy Blacks son, Jacob."
He seemed happier by the second. "Nice kid, that Jacob," he said as he uncapped his beer. "Takes good care of his dad."
I didn't understand why Mr. Black would need to be taken care of but I let it go. Then I remembered something and I couldn't help asking, "Hey dad, why don't the Quileute go to the hospital?" As soon as the question was out of my mouth I wanted to take it back.
My dad's entire body began to shake and his hand curled around the bottle of beer as if wanting to crush it. "Who told you that, Jacob?" I shook my head slowly. "They're just being stubborn," he told me. "It's some stupid prejudice they have against Dr. Cullen. The minute he started working there, two years ago, they stopped showing up. I tried to talk to Billy about it, but he just brushed me off saying it was none of my business."
My dad's head puffed up like one of those alarmed blowfish. He started mumbling to himself about how some of them needed it and hearts were bad or something. I tried to change the subject, "is Waylon doing good?"
This seemed to be an acceptable change because his face instantly relaxed. "That Waylon is funny," he told me. "Cracking jokes the whole time." I arranged my mouth into a smile, hoping my dad wouldn't see through it.
"Hey, I'm watching the game. Want to see it with me?" He sounded excited. My face scrunched up as if I'd licked a lemon and I shook my head in the negative. "Girls," he muttered. He scratched his head as a clueless gesture and walked into the living room, where I heard him turn the television on.
I walked over to the sink and finished washing the dirty dishes from this morning. As I scrubbed absently at one particularly crusty dish, my eye caught a flash of movement outside, a giant shadow moving behind the trees. Enemies. A shiver rang up my spine as I remembered Jacob's words. I finished the dishes as quickly as I was able to, all the while keeping my eyes glued to the spot I'd seen the shadow. If something was coming for me, then I wanted to see it.
I rushed up to my room, explaining to my dad that I was practically drowning in homework when he asked me what my hurry was. Once inside I went to my window and pulled the drapes closed, then I locked my door. I fell to my knees and began digging around under my bed for my MP3. There must be something in there that would help me to stop thinking. I began to regret ever listening to Jacob's stupid legends. My can of mace rolled out from it's hiding spot and I quickly tossed it back in. Finally I felt my box of things I hadn't unpacked yet and pulled it out. My MP3 was wrapped in an old sweater my mom had bought me and I had never worn. I rang down the list titles, Green day, Sum 41, The Beatles, Chopin... None of these were any good. I needed something loud. My finger stopped at Linkin Park and I picked it out from among the others.
The blaring bass of the drums drowned out my thoughts easily and I let the music move through my body. I let myself fall back on to the covers and close my eyes. Again visions crept forth, bloody lips, a sinister smile, canine teeth, a woman screaming as a creepy bald headed man crept towards her, displaying vicious fangs and waving his long fingers, black eyes, hungry and pitiless. I pulled my pillow and pressed it to my face, hoping that would squish out any intruding thoughts.
Despite the blaring noise of my MP3 I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, I tried to not let it overtake me, but it was in vain. The La Push outing had tired me out more than I had realized. Soon I couldn't fight it anymore and I felt myself give in.
The scene was familiar, and I knew, some how, that this was all a dream. It was dark. Under my feet I saw the same slippery stones of La Push. The trees had clustered together to make an artificial night. Around me was utter silence, and I was afraid, despite knowing it wasn't real. Just like before, panic over took me and I rushed forward wanting to escape the darkness of the forest, wanting to see the sky. This place was too eerie and I didn't want to be alone. I slipped and fell but quickly stood again and kept moving forward, yet the scenery never changed. It felt as if I was going in circles. "Bella!" I heard Mike's voice scream from deep inside the woods. "Bella! Come through here! Hurry!" I wanted to follow him, but I didn't want to go any deeper into the forest. He kept beckoning me to him but I remained motionless, looking around for him instead. I was stunned to see Jacob, half hidden behind the mossy trunk of a tree. "Bella, run!" he whispered. His handsome face was distorted by fear. I stepped back from him, afraid. "Why?" I questioned. Mikes voice kept insisting I go to him, and Jacob now did the same. He extended his hand out to me.
"No," I said. "I want to get out of this place." The hair in the back of my neck stood on end, and both Mikes voice and Jacob went silent. He stared in the direction I was heading and I saw what had captivated his attention. A light, that had started dimly but grew in intensity was heading this way. It was coming out of the trees and I was glad to finally have something to show me the way. I didn't question how a light could be coming or who would be the carrier. I was just glad it was here. But it wasn't a light. It was a person. I stared at the face I knew so well. The face I had studied in Biology and at lunch. I knew the cheekbones, the lips, and the eyes. Edward.
His face glowed dimly, and his perfect eyes narrowed with hate. He stared straight at me, and that sinister smile I had seen in the Biology room was on his lips. When he crept closer I was able to see the two sharp pointed fangs that protruded from either side of his mouth. Despite the fear I didn't step back, he was like a fallen angel.
All of the sudden Jacob sprung forward, blocking me from him and I saw Edward stop. He tilted his head slightly in a curious way and the smile on his lips widened, his eyes looked wild.
Strangely Jacob fell to the ground as if a giant invisible hand had smacked him down. I gasped and hurried forth to help him, aware that Edward was paying attention to every one of my moves. But I paralyzed when Jacob began to twitch and convulse. His mouth was opened in a silent scream of agony. I stepped back, out of fear and felt my foot slipped from under me. I landed at the base of a giant, moss-covered tree. My eyes widened as I saw Jacob's body twist and turned sickeningly. The bones snapped as if each were being broken separately.
I screamed, afraid that Jacob was dying. Edward stared at this all in silence. Jacob rose to his feet like a marionette on a string. He looked wrong, his face had elongated and his body was slowly covering with fur. My heart was hammering like the beat of a drum. He slowly morphed into something not human. The animal that had once been Jacob now stared at Edward whose expression had changed.
Edward tried to take a step towards me, but the wolf growled at him, his hackles rising. He stepped back, and suddenly I was more scared than I could remember being in my life, but not for myself. I was afraid for Edward. Afraid he would be hurt. I stared at the wolf. He lowered his body in preparation to jump. I knew he was going to pounce on Edward. I need to stop him. Without warning the wolf sprang aiming for Edward's neck and I jumped after it, my mouth framing the word no.
I fell flat on the floor tangled in my covers, my MP3 clattered next to me. What is wrong with me, I thought. My body hurt as I pulled myself upright. The fall had aggravated my very recent injuries. I stared at my bedside clock. I had only been asleep for thirty minutes. It was still early and I didn't want to have to go back to sleep. Part of me wanted to know what would happen if I had managed to grab the wolf. I wondered if I would have been as brave if it hadn't all been a dream.
It seemed I wouldn't be able to escape these thoughts, not even in my sleep. There must be a logical explanation to all this, I thought. The game was still going on downstairs. I could hear the announcer's monotone voice drifting up. I ran my hand through my hair, which was sticky and wet with sweat. For a moment I was at a loss as to what to do. It was obvious I couldn't go up to Edward and ask him directly, what would I say. "Hey by any chance are you and your family blood sucking undead?" But I couldn't stand this horrible suspicion that had grown ever since the accident. I knew there was something that Edward Cullen was hiding. What if this was it? What if the big secret was that they were all vampires? What would I do with the information if they were?
Something inside me screamed to leave it alone, to let it go. It was none of my business. But my curiosity was not easy to drive out, and like always my stubbornness silenced the voice. My eyes roamed around my room, as if the truth lay hidden in the shadows, and quickly fell upon my computer. I jumped off the bed, and raced across my room for the laptop. I turned it on, tapping my finger on the keys, anxiously waiting for it to warm up. I clicked on the Internet icon and watched as Google popped on the screen. Then I typed in the words that had been circling around in my head since Jacob's tale, Vampires. I stared at it, strangely feeling like Alice going down the rabbit hole. This was a changing type of moment, once I pressed enter I wouldn't be able to go back. I jabbed the dreaded key sharply with my index finger, afraid I would loose my nerve and log off before getting the answers I needed.
The screen in front of me filled with everything from Role-playing video games of the gothic persuasion to elaborate costume designs for Halloween. I decided to narrow down my search a little and next to vampires I typed legends. That was helpful, instantly a list of vampire legends appeared. I clicked on the ones that more or less made sense. After clicking on countless sites that lead me nowhere, I was about to give up when I stumbled onto one that seemed promising. It had a collegiate feel, with quotes of famous doctors, authors and specialist sprinkled liberally, like confectioners sugar on funnel cake. I read each quote carefully, inspecting it for signs of something close to what Jacob had told me. I scrolled down the alphabetized list of the many myths believed around the world. The first Legend I came upon was derived from Africa, the Asasabonsam, a type of vampire, humanoid in appearance but with iron teeth, who hid atop trees and hooked its prey with its claw like feet. Then there was the Kiang Shi, from China, a vampire with red staring eyes long nails, long hair and a green white tinge, apparently they had poisonous breath but killed by draining it's victim of blood. These seemed like fairy tales to me, stories made up to scare children. In almost all cases the vampires were beautiful woman who lured unsuspecting men to their deaths. It surprised me to notice that many also mentioned childlike creatures that fed on human blood. Most cases their mother. Here or there I recognized an entry that resembled the Cullen's in some way, the speed, the pale skin, the color changing eyes, the beauty, but mostly it was just a compilation of creatures that to me didn't resemble the vampire legend I had grown up fearing. No dark and handsome stranger with pointed fangs and a widow's peak.
Some entries did mention the existence of good vampires, who protected humans from the bad ones like the Stregoni Benifici and the Bedandanti and some who where harmless only taking what they needed and nothing more, but most where evil creatures causing great suffering where ever they went. As I sat at my desk, looking at my screen I had the strange feeling I was being watched, and the hairs in the back of my neck stood on end. I looked over at my window, with it drapes closed. I knew there was no way that someone was looking in, unless they had x-ray vision, but the feeling didn't go away. Feeling uneasy I decided to log of the computer, blaming my nervousness on the fact that I was researching vampire legends. I had the feeling that if I kept this craze researching of mythical creatures I'd soon end up in a mental institution, with a strait jacket and padded cell. But somehow, the uneasiness didn't disappear. I walked to my window and pulled the curtains aside, the rain had stopped but the sky was still dark, promising more rain still. Curiosity propelled me to put on my rain boots and walk downstairs, my dad had fallen asleep watching his game, and so I tip-toed past him, not wanting to wake him, and walked out the back door.
Why was I feeling this way? I wondered. My eyes scanned the fringe of trees, poised for the slightest movement but couldn't see a thing. As I stood there feeling slightly foolish, and getting ready to walk back in the house, I heard a noise. It was soft, but distinct, like something solid brushing against the leaves. My throat went dry as I tried to pin point the origin of the sound. Then I heard another noise, this one higher. It could just be an animal, I thought. But something told me I was lying to myself, because I knew deep down it wasn't an animal making those sounds. I found myself walking forward, closer to the fringe of trees, my feet moving of their own volition. My brain was alert and sending all the signals for me to stop but I just ignored them and kept walking. I felt like one of those thriller movie victims, walking towards the source of the noise despite everyone in the theater shouting for her to turn back. I didn't actually stop until I was a little ways into the woods, shivering but not from cold. Everything around me had gone silent. I couldn't even hear the whistle of the breeze against the trees. It felt like my ears had been plugged. And all the while that strange feeling that someone was watching me never went away.
"Hello?" I called out, feeling stupid. I hardly expected an answer, but then the rustling started up again, and it sounded much closer. My body paralyzed. There was something here. Something that wanted to hurt me. I could feel it all along my body, and I wanted to run but the fear kept me pinned in place. This is what I get, for digging my nose where it didn't belong, for wanting to know more than I was allowed to know. And suddenly I wanted Edward, more than ever, despite my dream, despite the tales of the Quileute. I wanted Edward here to comfort me, to protect me. That's when I heard the sound, like a boulder hitting another in a giant avalanche, it propelled my skeleton half a mile out of my skin but my feet didn't react. In a rush the sound returned and I felt the heaviness lift out of my legs. I took off, unaware of the low branches that snatched at my clothing and scratched my face and hands. I made it back to my house just as it started raining and turned to look back as a spark of lightning lit the sky and the woods. In that second I could have sworn I saw a tall figure staring back at me, but the next second it was gone. I stumbled my way inside, and bolted the door, my heart pounding.
"Bella? It's that you?" My dad called from the living room.
"Yeah it's me," I managed to rasp. I tried to compose myself as he walked into the kitchen, empty bottle of beer in hand. He scratched his eyes, like a sleepy child and looked at me, taking in my attire and scratched face and hands.
"What happened?" he asked concerned.
"Nothing," I said. "I just thought I heard a sound..." I let the sentence drift wondering if I should tell him the whole truth. He looked at me with alarm. I opted for a lie instead.
"It was just a squirrel," I said attempting a laugh, which came out dry and brittle. "It scared me silly, though."
He looked calmer but still confused. "Why were you out there in the first place?" he asked. "Can't you hear the thunder? It's going to pour."
"You know me, I'm curious George," again I attempted a laugh but again I failed. He stared at me for a second, and then as if deciding it had something to do with me being a teenager he turned to the fridge for another beer. I took the opportunity to escape up to my room, making sure to run by the bathroom and pick up a couple of alcohol wipes to clean up my new cuts. This weekend had been all it threatened to be, miserable and painful and it wasn't even over. When I finally made it to the safety of my bedroom, I ran to the windows and bolted them. Then I made sure the drapes where closed tightly before I sat on my bed to clean the cuts. The coppery smell of blood tinge with sweetness made me feel slightly dizzy and I hurried to finish before I passed out. Once my cuts were clean and bandaged, I lay down on my bed and looked at my ceiling. My eyes traced a huge crack in the paint and my mind fell back to the figure staring at me from the fringe of trees when the lightning lit it up.
The weird thing was that I didn't feel scared when I thought of that. I remembered how terrifying it was when I had been in the woods, surrounded by something I couldn't see. But that figure hadn't scared me at all, if any it had calmed me. It felt more like a sentinel, a guardian who protected me, than something that wanted to hurt me. Surprisingly it made me think of Edward.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. How stupid I have been, I thought, to let my mind get so wrapped up in stories and legends. Yes, I still believed that Edward was something more than human, but I wasn't going to dig around, investigating things I wasn't meant to know. I would let sleeping dogs lie. Did it matter what he was? Would I love him any differently? I laughed out loud. I love him, I thought. It doesn't make any difference what he is or is not, it won't stop what I feel for him. And with that thought I drifted off into a comfortable sleep.
It was in the morning that I really felt my injuries. I spent most of Sunday in bed. The bruises that hadn't been there the day before made their appearance, in all their purple glory. My dad took one look at me and cringed. "You look like you were ran over by a monster truck in your sleep?" He told me with a laugh. Instead of going fishing again with Waylon my dad opted to stay with me. I caught up on my homework which I had neglected and later that day my dad help me downstairs and we spent some time watching classic movies and eating chips. The day had turned bright and sunny, the storm from last night had died out pretty quickly. I tried to think as little as possible about the happenings of Saturday, because my decision was made. No point in beating a dead horse. Which made me more and more anxious for Monday to come. I wanted to see Edward.
I moved quickly through the parking lot of my school, needing to get to class and for the day to progress so I could see Edward again. I sat at my seat jittery from nerves, my foot twitching and my hand tapping on my table ceaselessly. Mike reached over and put his hand over mine, "stop" he mouthed when I looked over at him. I wasn't concentrating on anything, and so I completely missed when my teacher came over and asked for the homework assignment. Eric reached over and tapped me on the shoulder, while Mike shook his head. I looked up at Mr. Mason, who looked back at me with his hand extended. Realizing what he asked for I quickly scrambled for my bag, reached in and pulled out my homework assignment. He took it from me and with a smile walked over to the student behind me. Everyone around me erupted into suppressed giggles, while I sunk low wanting to disappear. When the bell rang, I hopped off my chair and rushed out of the room, not waiting for either Mike or Eric. They quickly caught up with me, both with hurt looks on their faces.
"What is happening to you?" Mike asked. I glanced at him, my eyes narrowing, then away.
" What the hell did we do?" Eric said. "
I slowed my pace. "Nothing," I said. "It's just I have a lot of things on my mind." I stopped in front of the History building, and Eric and Mike stopped too. Mike leaned into the side of the building and nursed his right leg, cringing slightly as his hand ran over it.
"What happened to you?" I asked. Eric burst into fits of laughter and Mike batted at him unsuccessfully.
"Remember how Jessica clung to him on that hike to the tide pools?" Eric asked. I nodded, knowing only too well why Jessica clung to Mike. "She started walking really fast for some weird reason and since the ground was so slippery she kind of lost her balance-" Eric stopped mid sentence not able to control his laughing any longer. I prompted Mike for the rest of the story, he looked at me, rolled his eyes in defeat and said, "I went to help her and managed to grab hold of her but then she sort of pushed me off and sent me flying to the ground. She was okay, but I think I sprained my ankle." Eric was hunched over unable to breathe, his face turning red. I managed a quick chuckle despite the fact that the story wasn't all that interesting or funny to me, I thought back to the tide pools when I had been curious to know what had happened to Mike, but that seemed ages ago.
I waved goodbye to them and entered my class. The teacher hadn't yet arrived and I knew the noise level was deafening but it all sounded like white noise to me, like the static on a TV. I felt my body sit down but my mind remained suspended in mid air, just hovering above me, completely oblivious to anything. "He-llo," Jessica said waving her hand in front of my face and my head snapped up, I looked at her, and noticed, as if for the first time that I wasn't in history anymore, and I had no idea how I had gotten here. Some how I had managed to sit through all my classes and walk my way down to the cafeteria in a vacuum like state.
"Well?" she asked. She moved in front of a blond freshman, the girl stared at her in confusion, then threw her hands in the air and walked out of line.
"What? I'm sorry I was day-dreaming for a second," I told her.
"Are you going with us to Port Angeles on Thursday?"
"Port Angeles?" I repeated confused, pulling out my usual can of ice tea out of the ice filled bucket.
"Yes... to buy dresses for the Sadie Hawkins dance... I was telling you all about it. What, you weren't paying attention?" she asked.
If there was one thing Jessica hated, it was when people didn't listen or weren't engrossed on what she babbled. And I knew that if I confessed to being oblivious, she would probably never speak to me again... which on the whole didn't seem like a completely horrible idea. She sat down next to Lauren and I plopped down right beside Angela, who was as always immersed in one of her books.
"Yeah, of course I was paying attention," I told her, deciding against the "never talking to me" thing, I'd rather not become Jessica's enemy. I just didn't want to think what she was capable of. She looked at me suspiciously.
"Yeah. Lauren, Angela and I are all going, so we thought even if you didn't have a date, that you'd like to come to give us pointers." She looked me up and down, as if she doubted I would have any pointers to give. I bit the inside of my cheek in anger, suppressing all the things I wanted to hurl at her. Like the only reason I didn't have a date was because I had turned down all the guys that had asked me, or that the only reason she had Mike to go with was because I convinced him to say yes to her invitation. But I held it all in.
"I'll think about it," I told her.
"Whatever, just tell us before Thursday alright," she said turning to Lauren. I turned to look at Angela, who was now pretending to read her book, though her red cheeks gave her away. It had obviously been her idea to invite me to the outing. She raised her eyes to me shyly, and peered at me through her eyelashes. "Sorry," she whispered. I smiled encouragingly at her, giving her my best "don't worry about it" shrug. I was too eager to start my search for Edward to care what Jessica thought or didn't think of me, and my wardrobe. My head spun in all directions as I tried to find Edward. But the Cullen table stood vacant and when I looked over to where Edward and I had sat that one time, hoping he was there waiting for me with his crooked smile, I was disappointed to also find it empty.
I laid my head down on my hands and stayed like that for the rest of the lunch period, blocking Jessica's incessant chatter about Port Angeles. When the bell rang I pushed myself to my feet and walked, zombie like, to my class. Angela ran to keep up, "they usually don't show up when it's sunny," she told me. My eyes jerked up, there was no point pretending I didn't know whom she was talking about. "They skip? I asked. "All of them. Isn't that a bit obvious?" I asked. Angela shook her head. "No. When they first arrived we thought the same, but then we heard that Dr. Cullen had asked the Principal permission to get time off for all of them whenever they want. They go camping or hiking, something like that." I remembered Edward mention something about camping with his brother. "Apparently the Principal said that if they kept their grades up it would be okay to miss some days of school." She looked at me incredulous, as if she couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth. Again I was lost in my own thoughts, and Angela and I walked the rest of the way in silence.
Hadn't Edward left on Friday night? Why was he taking so long to return? How much fun can a person have camping? I walked to my seat with my head down, knowing Edward wouldn't be there. At this point I just wanted to go home, curl up in my blanket and sleep until next Thursday. Maybe I should have stayed home.
The rest of my classes went by slowly. The minutes seemed to have had purposely slowed down to prolong my misery. Biology was a bore and Gym a nightmare. Dejected I dragged my feet in the direction of my car. Could I continue like this? I wondered. Perhaps it was a good idea to go on the outing with Jessica and Angela, but Lauren would also be there and her pointed barbs were more annoying than hurtful.
My house was quiet when I walked in. I put my keys on the hook and walked to the fridge to get myself a can of coke. This day required an overload of caffeine. There on the fridge, pinned in placed with a banana magnet, was my dads note.
There was an emergency at the station, very serious.
Left some money on the counter, order us a pizza.
Love Dad
I stood there pinned to the spot, staring down at my dads note. The handwriting was messy and rushed, and so unlike him. Perhaps it had been a breakthrough in the cold case they had been dealing with, I said to myself. Yet the sudden coldness in my stomach made me wonder if there was something more to this. He used the words "Very serious," that couldn't possibly be a good thing. Wouldn't he have used words like, "great news?" The tone of this small note wasn't cheerful. With shaky fingers I placed the note back on the fridge, and secured it with the banana magnet. I wasn't in the mood for a soft drink anymore. On the counter was a crisp twenty-dollar bill. I passed it without picking it up. I wasn't hungry anymore either. My house felt eerily quiet, I felt the need to turn on the television just to hear the noise. I ran up to my room to change, and was startled when my cell phone began to vibrate. I picked it up and stared down at the screen, MOM. With a small sigh, my finger pressed the answer button. Instantly my mom shrilly voice rang in my ear.
"Some daughter you are!" She screamed. "Haven't heard from you in a month! A month. What, you don't care if I'm alive or dead? I gave birth to you!"
"Mom, stop being melodramatic," I told her. "I had a lot of homework and stuff to do." The excuse sounded lame, even to myself.
"And you couldn't take a second out of your very busy day to call your mom, and make sure she's okay?" she told me.
"Your right, I'm sorry," I told her. "I guess I've just been distracted."
"Well get undistracted, I have things to catch you up on," she said in a rushed voice. Whatever she needed to say was apparently very juicy. Some bit of gossip I wasn't really interested in.
"Well, Lucy's daughter, Melissa. You remember her, right? She was always such a nasty little b..."
"Mom," I said cutting her off. "It's been a really nice couple of days. All I want to do is soak up some sun." Before she had time to respond I ended the call and quickly, hoping to avoid a call back, I turned off the phone. I'd probably regret what I had just done later, but I wasn't in the mood for my mom's gossip. I pulled a t-shirt out of my top drawer, and shoved it over my head, then picked up the sweats I hang up on my desk chair and walked into them. I look over at my laptop. At this very minute my mom is probably writing me a very explicit message.
I ran back downstairs and sat down on the sofa, forcing myself to grab my school bag and start on the massive amount of homework Mr. Varner had given us, but after about thirty minutes of none stop word problems I couldn't take it anymore. Placing the book on the coffee table I looked around for something else to help me pass the time. I walked over to the secondhand bookshelf my dad had bought me to house my small collection. I stared down the rows of books for something that might keep me busy for the next couple of hours. Deciding on a compilation of Jane Austen, I pulled it out and went back to the sofa. But I couldn't concentrate on my reading, all I heard was the tick tock of the kitchen clock and it drove me insane. Without thinking I grabbed the small blanket from the sofa and dragged it outside. Maybe if I left the house I would be able to concentrate better.
I laid the blanket on the ground, and plopped myself down on it, determined to get at least halfway through my story. Suddenly I felt the hair in the back of my neck stand on edge, and I had the strangest feeling someone was staring at me. My head tilted up and my eyes scanned the empty little stretch of yard, up to the little cluster of trees where I had seen that strange lone figure. When I was fully satisfied I was alone I turned my attention back on my book. Unfortunately my instincts were telling me I wasn't alone, and so I couldn't give the book my undivided attention.
Frustrated, I snapped the book shut and set it next to me. I got on my back, staring up at the clouds, which were even now forming the heavy cage that usually surrounded this town. I wasn't going to let this sunny day pass me by. Who knew how long before the sun broke through the clouds again. Despite a slightly chilly breeze I closed my eyes and relaxed my body, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling of someone's eyes on me.
The sound of my dad's cruiser woke me up. I snapped up, confused by the dimming light. I had apparently been asleep for quite sometime, at which point it had grown dark. I stood on wobbly legs, and quickly snatched the blanket and the book off the ground then ran inside. My dad met me just as I closed the back door.
"What were you doing outside?" he asked me in a strangely serious tone.
"I was enjoying this nice weather we've been having and I fell asleep," I told him. He walked over to the window and looked out into the little yard, verifying there weren't any boys out there running into the bushes.
"I don't want you out by yourself, understand," he told me.
My dad had never ordered I do anything. This was very strange behavior. Even though I knew I shouldn't I found myself asking, "what happened dad?"
He pulled a chair away from the kitchen table and sat on it. He placed his callused hands over his eyes. "Waylon," he croaked around the obvious lump in his throat. "They found his body, by Quites River today."
The only sound I managed to make was a sort of raspy gasp. I felt my face pale, and my limbs become rubbery.
"He had been dead about a day before some kids fished him out. We assumed he was killed on Sunday," he told me.
"Killed?" I whispered to myself, wondering if I had heard correctly.
My dad's fist pounded on the table making me jump. "If only we had been able to find the bastard that killed that poor security guard down in Mason, this would have never happened!"
"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked him.
"The same MO," he said. "His body was completely drained of blood."
"Dad, I'm sorry," I whispered, but my words were drowned out by his rambling.
"I shouldn't have told him to go fishing without me. Perhaps if I had been there..." he mumbled to himself.
I felt when both the book and the blanket slipped out of my cold and numb fingers as I realized what he had just said. My dad hadn't gone fishing with Waylon because of me. I remembered him on the phone apologizing to Waylon and insisting he go on without him. Dad had been worried me, and he hadn't wanted to leave me alone. If he had gone with Waylon, he may not have been here now, talking to me. If he hadn't stayed... But I couldn't even imagine that.
My dad jerked his head up in surprised, and I knew my legs weren't going to be able to support my weight much longer. I felt them wobble as I tried to walk towards the table. He caught me and helped me to the nearest chair.
"Honey! Are you alright?" His face was filled with concern.
Tears had begun streaking across my face. Silently I sobbed, trying to regain my breath. "I'm glad you didn't go," I said through hiccups. "If something had happened to you... I don't know what I'd do." I held on to his shirt, unable to let him go. Scared that if I budged he would disappear.
"Bells, it's alright," he told me soothingly. "I shouldn't have told you." He pried my fingers off his shirt, and set my hands on the table, then he went to the fridge and got me a cold glass of water. "This should make you feel better," he said putting it in front of me. I curled my fingers around the glass, and with shaky hands brought it to my lips, draining it in seconds. I had never felt so grateful for body injuries in my life. He leaned his back on the sink and stared down at me anxiously. "You didn't order the pizza," he said.
"I wasn't hungry," I told him turning my gaze to the twenty on the counter.
"It's alright," he said. "I'm not so hungry either." He picked up the twenty and pocketed it.
When I had managed to calm down sufficiently, I asked my dad to help me up to my room, where I collapsed into my bed and stared at my ceiling, until about three o'clock in the morning, when exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep.
The next several days passed without incident. The weather had kept steadily nice, though the clouds kept crowding closer and closer warning you they were about to regain their rightful place in the sky. My father was hardly ever home, picking up where he left off. He was no longer cheerful, he seemed drained when he got home, and I knew it was because he blamed himself for Waylon's death. On top of all this Edward Cullen was again absent, and this coupled with my father foul mood made me irritable and edgy.
That Thursday as I sat at the Lunch table with Angela, Jessica leaned over to me. "Did you decide whether or not you're going with us?" She asked. The way she said it, as if she thought I shouldn't even think about saying yes, aggravated my already frail temper. I seriously considered spilling my can of Coke over her head. Instead I leaned over and said, "You know what, I think I will," and took satisfaction in seeing her face cloud over. I was sure she thought I would say no, and I know she was disappointed I would be coming. She smiled at me tightly, and quickly turned to Lauren and begun detailing her recent date with Mike in a very high voice, loud enough for her intended audience, which was me, to hear.
When I got home, I was surprised to see my dad standing in front of the stove, stirring pasta in a large pot. He turned to me with a smile on his face, the first I had seen all week. "Hey Bells," he greeted.
I hung my key on the hook and set my bag on the counter. "Dad. What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I decided to come home a little earlier than usual," he told me. "Your mom called me several times. Please, tell me what you did to make her so mad?" he smiled at me, as if mom's tantrums amused him.
I rolled my eyes, "I haven't been able to call her in a couple of days. I have to apologize to her, I was a bit..."
"Disrespectful," he said, finishing my words. I nodded, "yeah."
"I think you should apologize, soon," he pointed me towards the phone, which was sign language for "you need to do it now."
I walked to the phone and dialed my moms cell phone number. "Char-"
"No mom, it's me Bella," I said, cutting her off. She stood silent on the other end. "I just wanted to apologize," I told her.
"Charlie's been undoing all my good parenting," she said halfheartedly.
"Yeah mom, I've been eating candy everyday and staying up late every night since I got here," I told her, knowing I had been forgiven. She laughed. I felt that warm feeling slide down my body, as if all my worries were melting away with her sweet childish voice. We talked for a while, about everything and anything, mostly about me. I talked to her about school and Angela. I even told her about my growing rivalry with Jessica and my new nemesis Lauren. "I'm glad you made... friends, honey. You were always so lonely," she told me. She was happy I had updated her on my life. There seemed to be an underlying note of sadness to her voice. "Mom, I'm alright," I said. "I know," she told me. "It seems like you and Charlie are getting along great. You seem happy," she said with a sigh. "But sometimes it feels like I'm not part of your life anymore," she told me. "I feel like you're slipping away."
"You're always going to be my mom, that's never going to change," I told her. "No matter how far away I am." She laughed again. After she had gotten my promise that I would call her more often she sent a very noisy kiss through the phone and said her goodbyes. I ran downstairs just as my dad called me down for dinner.
We ate in silence, something that had become customary since Waylon's death. I had a feeling he didn't want me to ask about how the case was going. If I even attempted to talk to him, he would pretend to be full, get up from the table and dump his, almost always full, plate in the garbage. It didn't take long for me to get the message, and so I stopped talking. It made for very lonely dinners. When he was done he pushed the plate away from him and looked at me. I stopped with the fork halfway to my lips. "How's your mom?" he asked.
"She forgives me," I told him, knowing that was the real reason he asked.
"I'm glad," he said. "I don't want you to think just because you're living with me you don't have to listen to her."
"I know," I told him. Wanting this part of our conversation over with so I could introduce the next topic on my list. "Dad..." I said not knowing where to start.
"Yeah," he sounded cautious.
"I was invited to go to Port Angeles today with some girls from school," I told him. "They're going to shop for dresses." He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Can I go?" I added as an afterthought.
"I thought you weren't going to the dance, what happened?" he asked still suspicious.
"I'm not, but they wanted my advice," I said. "I want to go."
"I guess it'll be okay," he told me. "But be careful, and take your pepper spray." I nodded even though I had no intention of doing that at all.
He huffed in a way that told me the conversation time was over, and pulled himself to his feet. I kept my eyes lowered as he placed his plate in the sink and walked out of the kitchen. As I was cleaning our dishes, the phone rang. Knowing it would probably be Jessica telling me they were on their way I dried my soapy hands on a paper towel and walked to the phone. My dad got to it before I could, and passed it to me. The phone hadn't yet reached my ear before I heard Angela's shrilly scream.
"Bella?" she said. "Bella! Are you there."
"Yes," I told her, keeping the phone at arms length. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong! Everything is right!" she sounded ecstatic. "Lauren won't be going to Port Angeles with us."
"Are you serious? This isn't some kind of sick joke?" I asked.
"No, I'm really serious!" she screamed again. "Jessica is coming to pick me up, minus her lackey. She always behaves much better when she isn't feeding off that viper."
"She asked me to tell you that we would pick you up in a little while," she said.
"Alright see you in a little bit then," I told her.
"See you," she said before hanging up.
I sat on the couch staring at the television but not really seeing what my dad had put on, waiting for the slightest sound of an approaching car. Jessica's squealing brakes gave her away. I jumped off the couch, pecked my dad on the cheek, grabbed my jacket and slung my tote bag on my shoulder and burst through the front door eager to start. My dad waved at me from the front door, before I hopped in and Jessica rushed off.
"Hey Bella," greeted Jessica and Angela in unison. "Lauren had to do something with her mom."
I smiled a genuine smile of friendship, wanting to give Jessica a chance for redemption now that Lauren wasn't influencing her. She smiled back at me just as warmly. I realized just how bad an influence Lauren really was.
Jessica talked without end, one sentence running into the next. I tried my hardest to ignore her and concentrated on the road, she didn't need more than the occasional yes or no from either Angela or me. We passed the Forks welcome sign so quickly I nearly missed it, and as I stared at the ever shrinking sign I felt a strong sense of foreboding, but I ignored it, I was going to enjoy this trip if it was the last thing I did.
I'd like to thank Catnip Banana for her review. I was seriously thinking about quitting, but now I'm going to continue writing because you're going to keep reading Catnip. Thanks again.
