Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or its characters. Stephenie Meyer does.
Bella's Point of View
Was I stupid? Was I trying to sabotage myself? What had I been thinking, asking Edward to dance? Or had I been thinking at all? Obviously not, since common sense said that dancing with Edward would only make me want to be with him more! Apparently not, because, even though I'd known that in some small corner of my mind, I'd asked him anyway! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!
I sat silently on my bed, curled up in a ball, keeping my raging criticisms locked in my head rather than screaming them out loud at myself, stomping around my room, and throwing things like I wanted to. It was hard, but it was better than letting the Cullens – especially Edward – hear what I was thinking. Although, I remembered belatedly, Jasper would know what I was feeling anyway. I didn't have enough spare emotion to care.
Eventually, the furious thoughts subsided, and let the pained, longing ones that I had grown familiar with over the last two weeks come forward. I would have thought that, as I distanced myself from Edward, the pain I felt over not being able to be with him would have lessened. I'd been wrong. It had gotten worse and worse, until every time I even looked at him, a part of me would scream to run to him, to let myself be with him. And every time I shut that voice down, it became harder and harder, more and more painful, to do so.
And my actions tonight weren't going to help. I'd let myself be close to him. I'd let him hold me in his arms and dance with me. I'd felt my hand in his, my body close to his, and had felt so at home. I'd looked him in the eyes for the first time in weeks, and had been unable to look away, even after I knew that my eyes were surely telling him everything I felt for him. I'd been unable to look away – because his eyes, his warm, golden eyes, had been sending me the same message my eyes had been sending him. I love you! I love you!
Now staying away from him was going to be nearly impossible. Earlier I'd just had to fight my own feelings. But now it wasn't that simple. He'd seen. He'd understood. He felt the same way about me. Now I had to fight both the knowledge that I loved him, and the knowledge that he loved me, too. Before, I'd let a few daydreams slip past my control – dreams that maybe he might care about me romantically. But now I knew for certain. And I knew that I would be hurting him by keeping my promise to Darren, and staying away from him. Hurting him as badly as I was hurting myself. My resolve almost shattered. I could handle hurting myself. That was acceptable. But hurting Edward.....
My jaws and hands clenched as I tried to keep myself from screaming. The pain in my chest, which had been my constant companion for the last two weeks, flared until it felt like my heart was literally being torn in half. On the one side, I knew that I only had to let go of a promise made to a dead man in order to make both myself and Edward happy. On the other hand, the part of me that still clung to Darren's memory with all ten fingers refused to let me do exactly that. The conflict grew louder as both sides screamed at each other, and as it grew, the pain grew as well. It tore at me until I was gnashing my teeth and gripping my hair so hard I almost pulled it out by the roots. I needed to get out of here. I needed to think, somewhere where I could be alone. I needed to get a handle on myself.
So I slipped out the window in my room instead of the door – which would have taken me past the Cullens – and made a wild dash for the woods.
Alice's Point of View
Bella was a masochist, and Edward was an idiot. My reasons for thinking so were perfectly sound. For example: Bella, when you're in love with someone – and we all knew it; it was in her eyes – it is not necessary to cause yourself pain by staying away from the person you're in love with. Edward, when the family empath is picking up on a ridiculous amount of pain coming from the girl you love, do not stare stupidly at the empath in shock and wonder if the girl would want you to comfort her. Go immediately to said girl's room and do something, preferably before she jumps out the window. See? Perfectly sound.
So I was justified in my annoyed grumblings as I went upstairs to distract myself until Bella came back and I could give her a talking-to. I was toying with the idea of finishing the design I'd been working on in my spare time – a dress that Bella would look amazing in, not that she'd ever agree to wear it. Of course, who said anything about my needing Bella's agreement..... Anyway, that's what I was thinking about when I passed Bella's room. The door was still open from when Edward had burst into the room to do something about what Jasper felt emanating off Bella, a second too late. So I could see the creases in the bed sheets where Bella had been lying, and could see the large black pack that was laying beside the bed on the floor. I could also see that it was open, and that a notebook was poking out of the opening.
I paused, my curiosity aroused. No, I shouldn't. It would be so rude to invade Bella's privacy like that. I couldn't. Oh, but it was right there! I hesitated in the doorway for a second, torn, then caved. I slipped into Bella's room silently, and softly closed the door. I pulled her battered notebook out of her pack, and would have immediately started to flip through it, but when I pulled it out, I heard something like metal click quietly against the aluminum spiral that held the notebook together. I peeked quickly into the large pack..... and my jaw dropped.
She had a sword in there! An actual sword – the blade was about two feet long, and slightly curved; a Japanese katana. And a shorter sword, and a knife – all Japanese looking. At first I was totally stunned, but then, after a while, it started to make sense. She said she was a soldier, I reminded myself. What kind of soldier doesn't have weapons?
So I went back to the notebook. I started at the back page, because I wanted to start with her most recent drawings, and was surprised to find a sketch of Carlisle. I looked over the sketch of my father's face; Bella had captured his air of kind leadership perfectly.
I turned the page, and found a picture of Emmett. A small smile curved up the corners of my mouth. Bella had really grown close to my silly bear of a brother.
I turned another page, and was suddenly face to face with myself. Startled pleasure swept through me as I looked down at my smiling face. Bella had drawn me with an ear to ear, bright, bubbly grin, and twinkling eyes.
A drawing of Esme, looking as gentle and motherly as I'd ever seen her, was on the next page.
And on the fifth page in from the back was a drawing of Edward. The sketches of my other family members had been good, with plenty of detail, but this..... this portrait had been done carefully and laboriously. Every line, every shadow, had been drawn with such careful accuracy – Bella must have worked especially hard on this, not wanting to get a single thing wrong. And she hadn't – it was absolutely amazing. Not only that, but the way she had sketched Edward, with his eyes and smile so gentle and caring, made it clear that Bella was completely in love with him.
I sighed to myself. If Bella loved Edward so much, what was the problem? Why was she so conflicted? Why was she resisting? I shook my head and continued to flip through the notebook.
The next picture was one I'd seen before – the picture Bella had shown my family and me when she'd first come to our home. The picture of the three vampires she was looking for. The picture of the three vampires that, according to Jasper, Bella hated enough to kill. I studied their faces thoughtfully. If I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that they looked easy to hate. Just something about them made my skin crawl.
I quickly turned the page, and looked at the picture of the Hispanic-looking woman that I found. She looked very kind, with large, understanding, very dark eyes and straight dark hair that hung to her slender shoulders. I wondered if this was one of Bella's friends.
The next page held a picture of a couple. Both the man and the woman were smiling, and had light hair and eyes, though the woman was much slighter than the man whose arm was wrapped around her waist. The man looked American, and the woman had distinctly Russian features. If Bella hadn't looked so different from the couple, I might have thought that they were her parents. Something about the way the man held the woman reminded me of Carlisle and Esme.
Smiling, I turned the page. Then I had to stifle a gasp. A young man, about eighteen, had been drawn on the next page. He was very handsome, and looked so much like the man and woman on the previous page that I knew he was their son, but that wasn't what had made me gasp. What had made me gasp had been the way that Bella had drawn him – in the same way she had drawn Edward. In a way that made it obvious that she had feelings for this boy that went beyond friendship. Was this boy the reason that Bella was staying away from Edward?
I started to panic. This did not bode well for the happy future I'd been hoping for, but had been unable to see, thanks to Bella's strange invisibility when it came to my visions.
"His name was Darren." Bella's soft voice behind me made me yelp and jump about a foot in surprise. I spun to face her – she was standing by the window she had jumped out of about ten minutes ago. I hadn't even heard her coming. Her notebook was still open in my hands, and I could feel the shame creeping into my expression. Caught in the act. But Bella made a soothing gesture. "It's fine," she said, her voice still softer than normal. She motioned for me to sit down, the sat beside me.
I cleared my throat. "So, Darren, huh?" I asked mischievously. Might as well do a little fishing for information. "What's the story behind that?"
Bella looked away from me. "I met him. I liked him. And then he died." The pain in her voice was harsh and close to the surface.
Of course – Bella had said his name was Darren. Guilt and sympathy flooded through me. I'd been worried about whether or not she would end up with Edward, and all this time Bella had been healing from a broken heart. Of course she was hesitant to love again. I felt like a schmuck – selfish and self-centered. I hugged Bella tightly. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I wouldn't have asked if I'd known."
Bella was staring out the window. "But you didn't know," she murmured absently, never looking back at me.
I decided to move on to a new topic, so I turned another page of Bella's notebook. On that page was a sketch of a little girl, maybe ten years old. She looked a lot like Bella, except her nose was a different shape, and her eyes were lighter. A big, silly grin was on her round child's face, and her slightly too long bangs hung down into her eyes. She was the most adorable child I'd ever seen. "She's so cute!" I exclaimed. "Who is she?" Bella glanced down at her notebook, as if she meant to take just a quick look then continue staring out the window, but when she saw the girl, she froze. Her already pale face went as white as bone, and her eyes widened, filled with horror, shock, and pain. She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Tears filled her brown eyes. "Bella?" I cried. "What's wrong?" Bella stood abruptly, shoving away from the bed like the notebook in my hands had burst into flames, her eyes still locked on the picture of the girl in her notebook. She clapped one hand over her mouth, and started to tremble.
To his credit, this time Edward didn't wait until one of us told him to do something. In fact, he might have been a bit overzealous, because he almost took Bella's bedroom door off it's hinges, and he did crack the plaster of the wall. In the next second, he had cupped Bella's face in his hands and asked, very gently, hiding the panic I'm sure he was really feeling, "Are you all right?"
Bella's wild eyes met his for a moment before her tears spilled over onto Edward's hands. Then she jerked herself away from Edward and bailed out the window – again. And Edward might have let her go again – if she hadn't been crying. Instead, he stared in abject horror at Bella's tears in the palms of his hands for a split second, looking like he was seeing the most terrible thing in the world, then jumped out the window and ran into the forest after her. I briefly considered going after both of them, but realized that I would never be able to keep up with them, and I probably wasn't the person Bella wanted to see at the moment. So I listened until I couldn't hear either Bella's or Edward's footsteps, then sighed and let Jasper, who had come into the room shortly after Edward had, wrap his arms tightly around me.
"It's not your fault," he told me gently, his bass voice rumbling more than usual because my ear was against his chest. "You couldn't have known that she would be so upset. You still don't know why she got so upset."
I sighed and stood on my tiptoes to kiss Jasper – and I was short enough that he still had to bend down a lot so I could reach him. "I know," I said. "But, for whatever reason, I did upset her. I just hope Edward can convince her to come back."
Bella's Point of View
Right after I'd pulled myself together and had returned to the Cullens' house, Alice accidentally showed me a picture of Sarah. My little sister. The eight year old that had been murdered not even three weeks ago. I'd kept myself from breaking down by not letting myself think about her – not about her scent, her eyes, her smile, her happy spirit, or about the trivial facts: her favorite color, blue; her favorite animal, butterflies; her favorite flower, Buttercups; her favorite song, "Walking On Sunshine".....
But now it was all coming back in a rush. I couldn't stop it. Every detail, no matter how small. And it was killing me. The grief I'd suppressed first by revenge, then by inattention, came roaring to the surface. It made me remember. It made me remember when I'd first left my pride to go around the world, and she had begged me not to go, but I'd had enough of Renee, so I'd gone anyway.
And, as I ran away from the Cullens for the second time, it made me remember the day she'd died.
I'd crossed the Mexican border into the United States – Texas, to be specific. I'd tentatively reached my mind out to contact Sarah, afraid that she would be angry with me for shutting her our after Darren had died. But she'd been thrilled.
We're in Louisiana. Where are you? she'd asked excitedly.
Ummm..... I think I just passed Brownsville, I'd responded. I hadn't been really keeping track of my progress, but that was my best estimate.
I'm so glad you're home! Mom's been kinda testy these past few months 'cause she didn't know what you were 'getting yourself into'.
I'd been able to hear the air quotes around the last three words. It had made me laugh, though the reminder of why I'd kept to myself – Darren's death – had hurt. Well, I'm back now, I'd replied.
Oh, I can't wait any more! Sarah had squealed. I'm coming to meet you. Stay along the coast so I can find you easier. See you soon! Through her eyes, I'd seen her skinny eight year old body change into the body of a tawny mountain lion, like the second form our mother had. I had no idea where my panther form came from, but Cat genetics aren't always predictable.
We'd exchanged information as we ran toward each other. I told her what I'd learned while I'd been on the road, and about the friends I'd made. Sarah had told me about what she was learning with the pride. I don't see how you sat through history, she'd thought crossly. Nicole's a great teacher, but I can't concentrate on the Volturi's rise to power or the formation of Shaylynn's laws! I'd been about to make a funny remark when Sarah's mental tone changed from happy, if a little annoyed that I was teasing her, to wary and frightened. Someone's chasing me, she'd said, her mind voice small, as if she was whispering. Three people. I can hear them. Suddenly worried for my sister, I'd picked up my pace and had listened through her ears.
I'd agreed with her – three pursuers. And, I'd realized, they weren't running on four legs. A bad feeling had started to form in the pit of my stomach. I'd started to sprint. I don't think they're Cats, Sarah. Run faster. Try to meet me, I'd instructed, desperation starting to make me panic. But I'd had to hide my fear from her – she'd been scared enough as it was.
Sarah had obeyed silently, but she hadn't been a full grown Cat – her shorter legs could only move so fast. She'd given her best efforts, but it hadn't made much difference. They're catching up, Bella, she'd thought, her fear growing.
My stomach had clenched and dropped. Sarah had fought before, but never alone, and she wasn't the best fighter to begin with. Keep running, I'd ordered. I'm coming. I'd stretched my body out, taking larger, faster strides, running flat out, practically flying over the ground. Let me make it in time, I'd prayed. Let me make it in time. In time for what, I'd been afraid to voice, even in my mind.
Sarah had heard malicious laughter behind her, and had turned her head to see who it was that was chasing her. She'd caught a glimpse of two men and one woman with dead white skin through the trees. They'd still been a good distance away, but, even from afar, Sarah had been able to see their bright red eyes. Her shrill, piercing mental shriek had reverberated through my skull. Vampires! she'd screamed, and had tried to run faster.
I, too, had pushed myself for more speed, but I had reached my limit. Sarah! I'd shouted. Keep running! Don't look back again! Just run!
She'd tried. She really had tried. But when one of the males had called out behind her, "Here, kitty-kitty!" she hadn't been able to stop herself. Ignoring my howl of No, Sarah!, she'd glanced back over her shoulder, terrified to see that the three were much closer now. And her looking back had slowed her down just enough. The female, who had blazing red hair, had sprung forward onto her back and sank her teeth into Sarah's shoulder. Sarah had screamed, a human scream in her mind, and a mountain lion's scream from her body. And my mind had been so closely linked with hers that I'd felt the pain, and I'd screamed, too.
Maybe if the female hadn't bitten Sarah, she could have held them off until I'd gotten there. But the venom had entered her bloodstream, making her dizzy and fatigued. The vampires had circled her, and the brown-haired male had stretched out his hand like he was going to touch her. Sarah hadn't been completely under the venom's influence yet, so she'd been able to lash out with her claws and scratch his hand, but then she'd lost her hold on her Cat shape, and had changed back into a human girl right in front of the vampires.
They'd all hissed and jumped back, but soon the brown-haired male had approached her again. The other male, who had black hair, had protested. "Surely you're not still going to – my God, she's just a child!" Sarah had looked up into their faces from where she lay on the ground, her vision swimming, and had seen that the brown-haired male didn't care.
"So?" he'd asked the other male. And then he'd kicked her in the ribs, breaking bone. Sarah and I had screamed in unison, and I'd tried to run faster.
Don't you touch her! I'd shrieked, but Sarah had been the only one who could hear me. I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
Bella? Sarah had thought sluggishly.
I'm coming! I'd promised her franticly. I'm almost there!
Bella? she'd repeated slowly. Sorry. Love you.
No! I'd screamed. No, no, no! Stay awake, Sarah! I need to see where you are so I can find you!
The brown-haired male had hit her again, this time across her back, and had dislocated her shoulder. I'd shrugged off the borrowed pain as I'd run. But the pain coupled with the affects of the vampire venom had sent Sarah falling into unconsciousness.
Later, I was glad that Sarah had passed out. When I'd found her body a few minutes later, I'd realized that after she'd lost consciousness, the sadistic vampire had lost interest, and had quickly broken her neck rather than dragging out her death. It had been quicker that way – because, even if Sarah had managed to stay awake, I never would have managed to get to her in time to save her.
As I ran through the forest near the Cullens' house and thought that, my knees buckled, sending me sprawling onto the forest floor. I didn't bother getting up. I just curled up in a ball and cried like I'd only cried once before – when Darren had died.
It was agonizing – to know that I'd been so close, but had been unable to do a thing. It made it worse than if I'd been halfway around the world. Maybe if I'd..... done something, I could have saved her. It was my fault. I hadn't thought of something fast enough, and she'd died.
It was too much to handle – my body automatically took on a form that was better able to handle the pain. My human shaped body, curled up in a ball, became a huge, shuddering black panther. And my panther mind wasn't used used to this kind of pain. Stunned and frightened by emotions that my animal mind couldn't quite comprehend, I tipped my head back and let rip with a panther's scream. My claws extended fully, and I tore gashes into the ground.
Somehow, over the sounds of my scream and tearing earth, I heard a soft intake of breath from behind me.
Maddened by grief, I reacted according to my most basic instincts – when surprised, prepare for an attack. So I snarled, and whirled to face the sound, curling my lip up to show my Cat's teeth and swiping my right paw in an arc in front of me to show my five inch long claws.
I spun to face what had surprised me – and what I saw hit me like a splash of cold water, snapping me out of my furious mindset and plunging me instead into horror.
Standing under the boughs of a giant fir tree, his face as white as sun-bleached bone, his eyes huge in his dead white face, and his hand touching the trunk of the tree as if he needed the support, was Edward Cullen.
