Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters.
Summer of my Soldier
Chapter 9- Voices and Visions
The ship had long departed the harbor where I left behind the two sources that kept my broken heart beating, my two friends that kept me sane, for the most part. Guilt overwhelmed me as I knew that their tears were shed from my actions. Torn between two loves, the love of my husband, my Edward, and the love of those who stayed with me no matter what, those whom I betrayed. No matter how miserable I was, nor how much trouble I was to her, Alice never once left my side. She had taken great care of me, and when she needed me as much as I did her, I left her behind to search for my own selfish needs. How greedily I took advantage of the gifts my life gave to me! I had two friends that would do anything for me, who sacrificed themselves for me, and I did not do the same.
However, no matter how my heart ached at this realization, the steam poured from the top of the ship, and land drew farther away, shrinking and blurring into the horizon as we sped beside the coastline toward the Panama canal. It felt as if a cheese grater had serrated my heart, leaving only shreds behind to remind me of my selfishness and of the anguish that haunted me. It was impossible to believe that I had once been happy, that so many months ago my life had been the epitome of perfection. So many people take their lives for granted, and I was genuinely appreciative for every fragment of good fortune I was given, yet still it was taken from me. Stories fill children's mind of oblivious people unaware of the beauty around them, whom lose it all, and realize how important it all was. Later gaining it back, they remain grateful forever.
If this philosophy was true, why had I been sentenced to this abyss of calamity and despair? This was one torture even I did not deserve. It was not fair for others to suffer with me, myself possibly, but it was not right for Alice and Rosalie to be drawn into this, no less Jasper, Emmett and Edward.
Oh, how I missed them! All of them, though Edward the most, not only. I remembered the first day I met Emmett, and how he intimidated me so. It was foolish of me to think of him this way, for he was nothing more vicious than an over-sized teddy bear. I remembered how his smile stretched across his face, revealing the dimples in his face, and how his eyes sparkled with a child-like glow that made Rose weak at the kneed. And Jasper, lovely Jasper. There was no being in existence that could resist his charm, even myself at first. Of course, that was before I saw my love, but that is beside the point. The southerner had charisma that seemed to fill the entirety of a room, and always knew how other felt. On some level, I felt as if he knew how I felt better than I did myself. Then there was Edward. Ah, Edward. I shook the memory from my mind, not wishing to dwell on the subject of the missing man.
Tearing myself away from the white, metal railing of the steam ship, I strode along the deck, deeply inhaling the salty air. The deck was wide and luxurious, though the age of the vessal dripped rust down the sides and sent flakes of paint to crumble from the walls. Windows were clear, yet creaking, and some were even cemented into their frames. Strudy as it was, there were signs of the miles it had traveled.
Striding slowly along the creaking metal, the rippling blue sea was the only being to notice my anxiety. It was as if the tumbling ocean knew of my pain, and of my purpose. The waves rocked with strange intent; one moment with menacing tides, and the next the most serene of swells. Though the ship was steady, my heart and stomach fluttered as if I had taken passage on a pendulum. I was never one to become sea-sick, and now was not the start, for all that made me ill was absence, the absence of all the people that I loved.
Making my way toward the bow, I realized that in a few hours' time, I had circled the ship enough times for the other passangers to look at me with odd expressions. Forcing myself to retire from the soggy, icy air that raised goosebumps upon my arm, I retreated into the interior.
My luggage already awaited me before the door to my tiny cabin. In it lay a bed that looked slightly softer than I preferred, a small wooden desk with stationary and pen already resting in the grooves so as not to roll with the ship. A small, round porthole of a window illuminated the space with a blue-gray haze, leading me toward the lamp. Beige, floral wallpaper stuck to the walls, and coarse, eggshell colored carpet rested underneath my feet.
Setting the suitcase beside the desk, I had nothing to do other than to drum my fingers against my knee as I sat atop the bed, then to pace the seven steps across the cabin, then forcing myself to sit once again. This pattern continued until five o'clock, when the dinner bell rang. Though I had no appetite, I knew it was worser still to continue pacing holes in the floor.
Tearing myself from my temporary home, my thoughts drifted to Alice and Rosalie, imagining them with me and their reactions to the vassal.
"Well, it certainly is not the Queen Mary. More similar to the Queen Rusty." Rosalie would say. I pictured her walking beside me, her on my right, and Alice on my left.
"Yes, but it is comfortable. It will carry us where we need be safely, that is all that matters." Alice would respond.
"Oh Alice, must you be so accommodating to everything?"
"Of course! Do you have to be so troublesome?"
"I simply know what I prefer, that is all."The thought of their bickering made me smile, strangely. The ghosts at my sides comforted me in sort of mentally disturbed way. I could not explain it, for I knew all too well that my friends had been left behind, and those who walked with me were mere mirages inspired by my own mind, yet knowing they were there with me in some form, my heart beat more evenly. With that thought, I felt a pang in my stomach. Perhaps keeping myself sane was not as important as keeping myself occupied from something other than the grim fate that had became my reality. How lives can change so suddenly! In bringing either eternal joy or eternal misery, yet it seems that no life remains the same, and that nothing at all will remain unchanged.
Of course, there was only one thing that would only change in being that it would expand, that of my love for Edward. I longed so desperately to gaze into his eyes again, and even simply to talk to him, to hear his voice that had begun to fade from my ears.
Go home, Bella
The wind whispered in my ears, deceivingly so through my love's voice. Perhaps the hallucinations were not merely my imagination, and were true in my insanity. Voices and visions, neither promising in the hope of restoring my mentality.
I sat at a long, elegant table in the dining hall. Two couples sat beside me; the newly engaged Micheal Newton and Jessica Stanley, and Mr. Cheney, and his wife, Angela, who were so newly wedded that Angela spoke her new last name with a stretched grin across her face. I wanted to crumble then and there. Instead, I secluded myself at the far end and wound my fingers around the identification tag that hung permanently around my neck.
The heartache was unbearable, and I feared that should it last too much longer, my heart will be whittled away into nothing at all.
--
The voyage passed throughout the trip nearly identically to the first day. Mainly, I strolled the deck, imagining what my girlfriends would say were they here with me, and about what I was to do once I reached France. The inevitable happened, and I recalled the premonitions seen by Alice. By the look in her dark eyes, she had told me that our loves would not return alive, as they once were. I would not allow this thought to cement itself into my brain, not allowing that reality to exist, for there was no bridge between reality and surreality without my Edward. I wondered if he missed me as much as I did him...
Don't come after me, leave me be. Keep yourself safe. The musical voice rang inside my mind.
No. I disobeyed.
Bella, please, for me.
No. No for you.
Always so stubborn!
It seems you do not know me very well.
Does it?
You think you can talk me out of this. It is too late; I am coming.
Bella...
Just you see. I will bring you home, no matter what state you are in. With that, my insane conversation ended, and gazing at the stretching blue seas, I knew that I was bringing him home. Even if it were in a coffin.
Jarring myself from these hasty conclusions, my eyes took sight of a strip of green land ahead. Europe. Though it was not as if I could see the white cliffs of Dover, I knew the view I had never before seen, for I felt this sort of pull toward it. I did not have to guess from what. Leaning my elbow against the railing of the rickety ship, my name seemed to appear from the whispering wind.
"Ms. Masen?" This voice sounded too real. Were these the true hallucinations that had taken residency within my head? "Pardon me, Ma'am, but are you Ms. Bella Masen?" Whirling around behind me, it seemed as though the wind drew away the sound of an officer of the ship. In his hand he held a piece of white paper with what looked like Moor's code.
"Oh, yes, that is me." How I loved the sound of my newly acquired name, only realizing it was not so long ago, only long ago since my husband and I were together.
"Pardon me, but I have a message for you."
"For me? Is that possible? I know the ship is large, but I am afraid that I know very little of any other passengers..."
"No Ma'am, this came from shore, from a Moor's code machine. Our communication director translated it for you, saying it was urgent." My heart sank. Was there enough left in my life for tragedy?
"Thank you, Sir."
"Mr. McLean, Ma'am."
"Thank you, Mr. McLean. Please, do call me Ms. Masen."
"Thank you. Here is your letter, I assure you your privacy in the translation was kept." With that, he left to fulfill the rest of his duties. Unfolding the letter, my eyes grazed over the words written in an elegant hand. It read as shown.
To a Ms. Bella Masen, RMS White Star
Bella,
I cannot explain to you the importance that you come home. I plead, I beg you to return. My premonition returned to me, and I had it all wrong! Not one of my pictures were truthful, and not one was explained correctly. Bella, the eyes had truly been blood stains against the cave wall. The blood stains were not ordinary. They were stains of your blood. Please, Bella, come home! I cannot tell you how frightening it is to witness your death when I am not there! I do not wish to terrify your sleep, but I saw it!
That is not the worst part. The worst part was it was Edward killing you. HIs eyes glowed in the darkness, much like cat, only with green eyes and not yellow. He grinned, and, oh I tell you not of what he did, only that a blade became the death of you.
You see, my dear friend, that the eyes were those of the Devil that made him do this to you, for never would he do such a terrible thing in true life were he not possessed by some demonic force. I told you once that the men we miss so dearly would never return the same, I fear they have been driven toward insanity.
My dreams differ, yet this was so clear that I must childishly beg for you to come home. Please, keep yourself safe, and leave.
Yours,
Alice Whitlock
My fingers could not hold the feathery weight of the paper. The wind took it from my hands, carrying it toward the sea I had left behind. I felt the blood fade from my complexion, and in a trance, stalked toward my cabin. Inside I wrote in the shakiest of scrawl, mere seconds away from faintness.
My Beloved,
How is it that I can bring myself to do this? How did my life turn so far toward the worst that it would inspire me to do what I am about to endure. Oh, how such promise transfigures into such an abyss of irony and calamity! Never before have I felt so betrayed to be kept alive, nor to be considered human. Eternity seems like no time at all, yet hours seem a lifetime. It has not much sense, but reason seems the opposite from reality in the world I live in. God help me!
To come to this! Romeo and Juliet knew nothing of tragedy. They were privileged enough to die together, to die beside the one they love, to see them in Heaven were truly they could be together for ever. Ever seems so long a time. It is almost impossible to think that I could have had a life with you, and lived happily ever after as they do in fairytales. Some tale!
What sort of tale other than that of the warning to bitter families could be so unjustly cruel? If there is such a thing as God, why does he leave me to misery when all my life has been dedicated to being decent and humane? What have I done to deserve this? If it were appropriate a fate, it may not be as intolerable, yet could a murderer even be worthy of such torturous means? How misery condemns us to lives that are not lives at all, but only ends of those lives that are sucked dry from will to continue living them, to continue to suffer at the expense of their own withered hearts.
Farewell my love, my dearest, my eternal heaven, for what I shall do will surely end my being if anything continues to be in the pattern it has once been repeating in.
Forgive me
I did not sign it, for I knew it would never be received. All that I knew was when I rolled the letter up, stuck it into the green bottle and corked it tightly, that there was no way around this. There was no going back. I was already in too deep, as was the knife that had been waiting outside my heart, shredding it with every week that passed. No going back. No doubts. No weaknesses. All I knew was my intention, and no one was going to stop me.
Deep breath. Inhale, exhale...
To be continued...
