The song below is pretty good to listen to while reading the chapter – it enhances the creepy/ominous feeling I was going for. Enjoy.
And everytime I try to fly
I fall without my wings
I feel so small
I guess I need you baby
And everytime I see you in my dreams
I see your face, you're haunting me
I guess I need you baby
-Everytime (Britney Spears)
TEN:
She sits on the floor for a long time – pondering the consequences of her death, and the consequences of her life. Her curiosity about death occasionally extends to suicide, but not often, just during bad moments. Bella isn't that far gone at this point though, she just starts wondering loosely about it. To her, the biggest mystery in the world was what happens after death, and sometimes she was willing to sacrifice her life to find out about it. What if her dad was up there, or eternal happiness, or reincarnation? Bella often feels like whatever it is, it would be better than how she was living now. Though of course, Bella is scared of pain. You can't really die without it, unless you take an avenue such as suffocation or drowning, which seems too like too long of a wait to Bella. So it's moot.
The cold floor eventually makes her ass hurt like a motherfucker so she gets up and moves to the bed instead, shifting herself into a foetal position and rocking herself slightly. Bella looks up at the framed picture of two figures fishing – the father grinning enthusiastically and holding a huge fish, the daughter scowling and leaning away exaggeratedly. Bella misses her dad.
"Eeeeeedward!" Alice screams, throwing her arms roughly around her older brother. "I was worried shitless about you. What did you and Bella get up to?" She asks cheekily, before her expression changes into one of concern and she asks, 'How are you?"
She pauses enough to let Edward answer, "We just talked, mostly. I'm fine, I slept it off."
Alice gives her typical squeal and instructs her brother to 'tell her absolutely all the deets,' which he ignores so he can walk up to his room. "Edward!"
Edward turns back to see Alice glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. "Bye, Tink,'he waves his fingers at her. She continues to glare, but now at his back. "Fine. I'll go tell Mom your home," she shouts, stomping off to find Esme.
Edward clicks his door closed and takes out his phone, wallet and miscellaneous items and places them on his bedside table – one of those items being Bella's number. He had typed the number into his phone long ago, but wanted to keep it as a momento.
Edward wonders whether he should text her, call her, or do anything at all. It had only been approximately an hour since he had seen her, and he thinks that maybe she would think he was a creep if he started seeking her out after such a short time. Though it didn't feel short to Edward – the long walk to Jasper's house had been tiring. And dealing with Jasper was too – his friend wasn't very pleased with an impromptu visit from a guy demanding a ride. Well, Edward had done some freaky shit for him, so he felt that Jasper could at least drive him home.
And Edward didn't mind being called a 'fucking douchebag,' thank you very much Jasper, as long as it ensured that he didn't have to walk for another two hours to get back to his house, plus Jasper got to see Alice, so Edward didn't know what the fuck he had complained about. In fact, he could hear Alice bouncing around now. He tries not to imagine what his best friend and his sister were getting up to now.
Standing in his room, ambivalent, for a moment, he comes to a decision. He won't call her. Edward doesn't think Bella will be a Queen Bitch anymore, but he still feels that he needs some distance. Emmett was the last new person he had in his life, and he'd been in their little group of misfits for around two years. Having someone else feels a bit strange.
He'd go down and play the piano instead, Edward decides – causing Esme happiness and hopefully getting her to forgive him for both not calling and not greeting her when he came home, at the same as irritating the shit out of Jasper and Alice by playing something edgy. Nothing like sharp, staccato piano notes to kill the mood. Edward isn't sure why he enjoys annoying people so much, but it's just how he is. He's a little shit, but a lovable one.
Bella is almost asleep – still with her body in a ball – when she hears the sobbing downstairs. One thing a teenage girl doesn't want to hear in her life, Bella thinks, is her mom crying violently over something that there is no way to change. Bella feels so helpless during these moments, and this adds to her overall feeling of depression.
She plugs her IPod earbuds into her ears and turns her music right up, drowning out all other noise. Bella bought special earphones a while ago that, in order to stay in, need to be inserted very deeply into the ears. She can't hear a sound other than her music due to this, a big plus.
Eventually though, the hair around her shoulder starts pissing her off monumentally. Something about the small brush of her on the nape of her neck, or the weight of it, irks Bella right now. She starts fidgeting with it until she has it piled up on the top of her head where she can't feel it, finally settling down. Bella worries briefly about the time, since it can't be very late. She probably shouldn't let herself fall asleep now, otherwise she wouldn't be able to sleep later and her sleeping pattern would officially be screwed up. But to be taken away from her situation is so endearing to Bella…
She turns over and the hair collapses behind her, brushing her neck and shoulders again. Fuck this.
Bella marches purposefully to the bathroom. She stares at herself in the mirror hanging over the sink, scrutinizing every inch of herself, until her gaze comes to her hair; her annoying as hell, unnecessary and excessive hair. At this point, Bella can't really see a downside to cutting it off. She thinks it could even be liberating.
Bella gets plain scissors from the desk in her room, and ready's herself. Snip. She feels the lock as it falls down her face and into the sink. One step closer to being free, Bella thinks.
SnipSnipSnipSnip.
It all comes cascading down her chest and back, into the sink, onto the floor, stray strands into her eyes and into her mouth. There is so much hair, everywhere. Bella tries to style it someway but feels that she has failed, though she likes her end result. Certainly, it looks like a haircut done by a girl who wanted to have it cut on a whim. There seems to be no premeditation in the style. It is choppy and edgy, but interesting, if you didn't look at it to closely and find the amazing number of inconsistences. It came to just slightly under her chin and curved towards her face a little, emphasizing her wide-set eyes and cheekbones. In hindsight, Bella thinks that she should have probably wet her hair first for a more accurate cut, but it's too late. It's too late for a lot of things.
Bella cleans up the hair and stares at herself one last time, before walking back to her room, satisfied with herself and proud for getting the balls to do it. Cutting her hair was something she had wanted to do for a while – her father had adored her hair, he ran his fingers through it whenever he had the chance. The hair had just served to remind Bella of what wasn't there, and wouldn't ever be again.
Doing her homework was tedious but not time-consuming. When she had done it and snuck past Renee to get some food, she read for a while before going to sleep.
Bella dreams of the apartment she and Renee shared for about month after the accident. They had moved out and were on the move in less than a week, wanting to get away from the familiarity of the homely house they had shared with Phil. The apartment was somewhere in Nevada, and Renee had spent most of her time drinking and gambling. It was a hellish experience for Bella – what she could remember the clearest was the colors – gold, fiery red, and the deep blue of a Jacuzzi. Renee had turned their apartment into what looked like a strip club – sparkly fairy lights and red velvet dominated it, filled with tacky knick-knacks which cheapened the place, a glint of metal here and there. Bella had to listen to Renee doing various things with various men all night, most nights, which is where she learned her IPod-blocking technique from. It was probably the month Bella had finally lost her innocence.
The dream consists of Renee in Bella's room, wearing a red and white cheerleader's outfit with her hair tied into pigtails. She has bright red pom-poms by her side, and is doing little dances for a man, who is sitting in a corner, watching her and sipping a beer. As Renee twirls, her image morphs, until it's Bella dancing and spinning, and the man is a boy; Edward Cullen. Edward starts to advance on Bella, until she stops dancing and gestures to him, seductively. He slides his palm up her thigh, when –
-her alarm clock wakes her up.
Bella stretches and yawns, relieved that the dream didn't progress. It had a nightmarish quality to it and Bella didn't want something with Edward to be a nightmare, even if only in a dream. Bella also never wants to remember that apartment again – it creeps the shit out of her. It was like all the slime and sleaze of the world had been collected in a sponge and wrung out into the apartment so it was saturated in the ooze of the world's underbelly. Bella rubs her eyes, as if she can rub past events from her memory and live her life in peace. Not fucking likely, Bella thinks glumly, though honestly.
Bella tugs her hair in anticipation for school, climbing out of Max and glancing around for Alice, making sure the pixie wasn't about to come around the corner and frighten her. Bella didn't think Alice would freak out about her hair, but she was nervous about it anyway. What if the pixie deemed it hideous? Bella doesn't understand why she craves the pixie's approval. Maybe because Alice seems like she has her life sorted out completely, and Bella just wants to be like her. Or perhaps Bella is a hopeless nobody who just wants someone to like her and not abandon her, like her mother has done. Whatever the reason, she hopes that Alice doesn't give her shit about it.
Bella finally finds her in the library – on the lap of 'moonpie' – only one of the nicknames Bella had heard Alice call poor Jasper over the last few days. If the names weren't profoundly gooey, Bella is sure Jasper would have no idea Alice was actually referring to him since it seems like she creates a new pet name every few minutes.
Jasper nudges his nose into Alice's shoulder and points his head in Bella's direction, signalling her arrival to Alice. "Bella!" she shrieks, launching herself at Bella. Mid-launch, she pauses, staring at Bella's hair in bewilderment. Here we go, thinks the object of said bewilderment.
"Did you fall into a pit of razor-blades?" Alice asks, closing her jaw firmly, but still not taking her eyes off the hair.
"No," Bella replies, coupled with an eye-roll. "I just felt like cutting it."
"No, no, no, this will never do," Alice comes up to Bella and takes her by the shoulders, her eyes darting between Bella and her hair. "Listen to me, Bella." Alice says, her voice deep. "You will come to my house," the pixie shakes Bella's shoulders, "you will come," - shoulder shake - "and I will fix it," another shoulder shake.
"Are you sure you're not going to say, 'you are getting sleepy?'" Bella smirks. She mostly made the joke out of surprise – she didn't understand how it really fucking mattered, it's just hair.
"I can see you thinking it's just hair Bella," Alice frowns, outraged. "But hair is the building block that makes the mansion of fashion!" Alice emphasis's with a jut of her finger into Bella's chest. "Now, I admit I think the rest of fashion is bullshit, but hair, is everything. No hair, no fashion."
Bella snorts, but accepts Alice opinion. "Alright Alice. But I'm fine with mine."
Alice snarls, "Don't challenge me on this, Swan."
"Well, I do," Bella retorts, and has the absurd craving to poke out her tongue. She hasn't done that since the fifth grade.
"Catfight," Jasper murmurs, which sufficiently distracts the two women enough so they can attack him instead. Bella feels relief; she just didn't give a shit about the hair anymore.
Today was just one of those days for Bella – she barely registered anything that happened. It all went past her in fast-forward, and she was spaced-out almost the whole time. Edward probably asked her something, and Alice might have waited for her to make a comment, but none of these things appeared on her radar. Colors floated past her – the whites, blues and browns of the classrooms, the greys and blacks of the sky, but when Bella actually came home, she was surprised. She could not recall anything she learnt in class, and could only remember scattered phrases from the conversations she had.
Today was just one of those days, she concluded.
But it wasn't just one day. It was two days, which turned into three, four, then a week, then two, and the Cullens began to think they had lost their new friend. Zoning out had replaced bitching at Edward as her favourite pastime, and on the Thursday which marked the third week of out-of-whack Bella, Edward had had enough.
"Bella," he states, leaning on the locker beside hers.
"Bella," he repeats, after she doesn't reply.
"What," she finally replies while slowly rummaging through her things, her voice drowsy.
"What the fuck is going on with you," He asks, frustrated, pulling strands of his hair. "You've been a zombie."
"Have I?" She sounds drunk. She's acting drunk. Edward sniffs. She smells drunk. Edward grips her sleeve roughly and pulls her to him, whispering, "have you seriously been drinking? At school?"
"If you can't beat em', join em," she retorts convolutedly. Edward has no idea what she is talking about.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks her, trying not to let irritation cloud his concern. She seriously did look fucked up.
"I had a dream I turned into my mom, you know," she says, ignoring his question. "'S comin' true," Bella sways slightly, pulling herself upright by holding on to the door of her open locker. "Can you believe it?" She turns to him and smiles toothily. Oh boy, Edward sighs, internally.
"What is going on, Bella," he asks her one last time, determined to find out what had happened to the girl who he had previously admired.
And so Bella tells Edward a drunken version of her life story, by the lockers at Forks High.
Remember, reviews are where the heart is;]