Dead Sound
Bella is a casualty of herself now. It's hard not to feel bad for her as she walks, always alone, through the hallways. Her loneliness is contagious those who were once almost close to her; they see what she does, and they try to push her away, as she is doing to them. It's all they can do not to tell her to leave them alone outright, but her delicacy and charm keeps them there. Only a few stay devoted to her. Mike. Oliver. An Indian boy from La Push, Jacob.
They try to save her as she slips farther and farther away. And they fail.
I want to comfort her, too, but a part of me holds myself back. I know that she had a messy break-up with Edward, and I know how she feels. The bitterness within me keeps me from helping her. I have moved on from the pain that Oliver inflicted on me (and I on him) because of her. The remnants of the bitter are more about losing the music that we made together, though, than losing him. I have Angela now, anyways.
She tried to save Bella as well, and like the others, she failed. She prays every night that God will deliver Bella from herself. I think that God has better things to do, like making food for the starving people or ending the fighting everywhere or at least knocking some sense into the people who listen to the mainstream radio. Angela disagrees, though, says He has time for everyone. We debate this as Bella picks at her food during lunch.
"What do you think, Bella?" Angela's newest attempt to bring her back to reality.
"About what?" Bella says dully.
"God. Does He help everyone, or just those who need him?"
"There is no God."
Angela flinches. Religion is a huge part of her life. It's something she has never questioned before, just accepted to be the highest law in her world. The rest of us, well, we try to be sensitive about it. There's no point in hurting others when the pain could be avoided. I've learned at least that much over the years.
Angela opens her mouth as if to make a counterstatement, and then changes her mind. She's learned this lesson, too.
