(Disclaimer- I am samantha. I am not stephenie. Poor me.)
Hello again friends and fellow twilight worshippers. These last two chapters that i've concocted may
be a bit too on the dramatic side. I can no longer tell. I've been staring at them for too long.
And I love all of your reviews so far so PLEASE keep them coming! Thank you very much for reading. It makes my day. :D
Kidnapped (title)
Annabelle
It'd been four days. The fourth of July had come and gone. John Newton hadn't talked to me. I'd stayed in the house. I hadn't gone shopping, I hadn't gotten the mail. I hadn't moved an inch in the past four days besides the occasional visit to the refrigerator and the bathroom. I just sat on the floor where my bed should have been. The moving company never showed up. I thought about complaining to that Larry guy, but I didn't feel like it. I couldn't get over what had happened to me, what might not have happened to me at all.
I hadn't seen the dream boy since that night. I didn't even remember the drive home. I was beginning to think that maybe I'd just dreamt it all. I did have very vivid dreams. Believing that it was just a dream was much easier than accepting that the boy was real, that I'd really had him in my arms. That the heat that emanated from his strong, enormous frame hadn't just been my imagination running wild. But then again, the pain in his eyes…the pain I'd felt for him and for myself…how could that have been something conjured up in my sleep? No, I told myself. I didn't want to think about it being real. It couldn't have been. That couldn't have happened. It must have been a dream.
I'd had other dreams since then. None of them had seemed even slightly as real as that one had, but they'd been about him. Not just him, but also the other one- the other boy with the golden eyes and the bronze hair. I'd had these dreams all my life, but never before had they forced such strange reactions out of me. I kept waking up in the middle of the night, slick with sweat, breathing heavily, keeling over, nauseous. I had to lean against the wall for a couple of minutes, just so that I wouldn't fall over. Sure, falling over was never out of the norm for me by any means, but this was different. I couldn't stand straight, couldn't see straight. It was like an out of body experience, seeing things from someone else's eyes, feeling with someone else's heart. The pain I felt was beyond any other thing I'd ever felt throughout my entire existence. It paralyzed me, left me standing still in the middle of the hallway, frozen with shock and confusion and a heartache that hit me like a ton of bricks, over and over and over again. It wasn't normal. It just wasn't.
The worst thing, the least normal thing, was that I was homesick. I wasn't longing for my old home in Houston, but for something else entirely. I couldn't pinpoint it. I couldn't decide what it was that I was missing, but I could feel it. I could feel the big empty space invading every inch of me, taking over, leaving me lonely and cold and hollow. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The dream, the emptiness it'd caused, it alerted something in me, activated some kind of nonstop flood gate. Every time I thought I was finished, I'd see him in my head again, feel the pain in my chest again, and it'd start all over.
Frequently I experienced absurd urges to go back to La Push and find the boy. Find Jacob. I grinded my teeth as I thought of the name, another impossibility. This was one other piece of evidence leaning towards the dream theory. If it hadn't been a dream, could I really have just known a stranger's name as I had? That was entirely not possible.
I'd had other urges, too, other fierce cravings that left me staggered and dazed. I'd had dreams of a big white house, one on a never-ending road that wound and wound through the darkness. The more that I ran through the winding roads, the further away the house became. Even though I knew somewhere in my mind that making it there would be completely unattainable, I kept pushing myself, running and running. I'd spend forever in this reoccurring dream, chasing whatever it was that I could find there, whatever it was that made me twitch in agony. I'd run ceaselessly just to reach it, though in my head I knew that it was not feasible. But dreams normally aren't feasible- especially this one. It made my heart hurt. It made me cry. Even when I wasn't thinking about it, even when I was completely engaged in something else, it'd come creeping back up from the back of my mind, popping up and catching me off guard, disabling me for hours at a time. I hated it. I absolutely despised it.
--
Jacob.
Another day passed and I couldn't take it anymore. It'd been six days since I'd seen what I'd thought I'd seen. Since I'd seen what I'd been waiting for. I couldn't stand it. I'd been standing there, again, not thirty feet from her. This time, I'd done something more than stand there, though. I'd tried to go to her, to apologize, to make things right. But apparently, I hadn't done enough. I couldn't, really. I was a little more than disabled by the sight of her. I was dumbfounded. I'd never thought it would happen, and then there she was. I couldn't handle it. And what I couldn't handle even more was that she didn't want me anymore. She never really did, but this time it struck me worse than ever. I'd sworn that I wouldn't cry anymore, but after just that one moment with her I was right back at the beginning, crying every five minutes like she'd died all over again. It was hell on earth.
Embry was in the house waiting for me when I got home that next night. He'd asked me what was wrong, coming over to where I stood, wrapping his stupid arm around my shoulder, taking on the father role. He could tell that something was wrong. Either that or Leah had already told him. I'd bet on the latter option. That was all either of them would talk about. Leah had heard it in my head when I'd gone away as a wolf, and she'd followed me back to our house. She and Embry circled me, obviously attempting something that resembled a bizarre form of unsuccessful comforting. It was stupid. I'd gotten comfort and I'd gotten sympathy and I'd gotten annoyingly sad eyes pointing in my direction for the past ninety years. Nothing good had ever come from any of it.
I shook my head, gunning the engine to the motorcycle angrily. I understood that she didn't want me. I got it. I just couldn't get over the feeling in my stomach. It was much more than that I wanted to see her, to confirm that I wasn't completely insane, that she hadn't just been some illusion that my mind had fabricated to give me a rare spill of the happiness that so constantly avoided me.
I needed her.
I needed to hold onto her and to kiss her and to look at her. If I couldn't get the first two, I'd settle for just looking at her. I'd look at her forever. If I could wait for her for ninety years, I could surely look at her for just as long. I'd search this town from top to bottom. I'd tear it apart. I needed her. I'd find her. Please let me find her.
The tears trailed down my face as the realization hit me again. Bella was here. Bella was breathing and pink-faced and beautiful and alive. Bella was so close to me, but she'd never want me. This was just something I'd have to get used to. I'd had to do it before, I could do it again. It'd be hard, but I'd give anything just to look at her. Even if I knew that she hated me. Even if it killed me. And it would. I could feel it. It was tearing at my heart in ways that weren't ever going to heal. I knew that nothing, not even the fact that I could heal faster than anyone alive, could save me from this break. But I'd do it. Just to look at her face. I'd do anything.
--
Annabelle
I was in the truck driving when I saw the form on the fringe of the woods. I'd never seen anything like it. It was huge. I slowed down, staring at it like an idiot, almost driving into the ditch on the side of the road. It blinked at me, and then it turned around and ran away. My eyes widened. I was frightened by the enormous creature, but I didn't move. I waited. I didn't know why I was waiting, but I expected something. I just didn't know what it was that I expected exactly. The truck rumbled beneath me, annoying me. I couldn't hear anything above the uproar, and I didn't like having to rely on my sense of sight alone while waiting for whatever it was I was waiting for.
I waited for five minutes before I started getting antsy. I was really fidgety today. I'd been out on the road since this morning. I'd been looking for something. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was. In fact, I was in such denial that I'd gone as far as saying that I was looking for John, but I knew that wasn't it at all. I wanted to find that big white house. I wanted to find something. I just had no idea where to look, nor did I even have any idea if it even existed outside of my head. I sighed, looking ahead, back at the road, making sure that nothing was coming, when there was a knock on my window. I screamed. A girl was standing there at the passenger window, smiling at me. She pulled on the door handle and settled into the seat while I stared at her in shock. What was this woman doing getting into my truck?
"Hey." She said, smiling genially, raising her eyebrows. Something about her struck me as snotty, though she was being rather nice. Not to mention that I had no idea who she was, and again, like everything else in this town, she was familiar. That bothered me. And now she was suddenly sitting in the front seat of my truck like she'd belonged there all along. What was it with these local people? Was there something in the water?
I watched her as she rolled down the window, letting her long black hair fan out into the golden sun that rarely lit up the sky here. She gazed back, looking somewhat smug, tapping her fingers on the dashboard.
"So, I have to admit that I'm surprised. I didn't really believe in the legend anymore than Jake did. But, we'll discuss it another time. Now, Bella, you need to listen up." She used the name that the dream boy had used to address me. I gasped, terrified and bewildered. Why was she calling me that? I pursed my lips, reaching for the door handle. I was ready to make a run for it, though I knew I wouldn't make it far. She looked very agile, graceful. She was beautiful, dark skinned, obviously much more skilled than me in many more ways than one. I narrowed my eyes.
"Here's the plan." She continued. "You are going to quit the shit and come home with me. You're being really mean to Jacob. He's waited forever for you, Bella, and I'm tired of listening to him whine. Do you even understand how incredibly annoying it is, waking up having had dreams of you? I'm a girl. I do not like you. I do not want to be grieving over you for the rest of my life. You're here, you're alive, and you're being stupid. So just stop it and go see Jake, okay?" My eyes widened and my jaw dropped, but all that came out of my mouth was a strange whooshing sound. My mouth felt dry. My head spun.
"Don't even try to fight me, Bella. I'm stronger than you. You know that. I'll get you there one way or another. Or I'll just have Embry help me if you really put up a struggle. But I don't expect that from you. And the black is nice." Her words twisted my stomach, disorientated my mind. Who was Embry? What did she mean, Jacob had been waiting for me? I chose the most trivial of my questions to start with. My head was pounding.
"Black?"
"The truck. I like it." She half-smiled, smug again. I scowled at her. I could tell that she was not someone I'd get along with, but I felt bad for her in some unexplainable way. Maybe I should stop drinking the water.
"Speaking of trucks…get out of mine. Now." I growled at her, shoving at her arm. I didn't understand what was going on here, but I couldn't deal with it. My chest felt as though it'd been planted with a dynamite stick, and my heart beat was just counting down the seconds until it'd explode. I thought I might pass out.
"Nice try. Move over." She lifted me easily from the driver's seat, taking my place. Then she hightailed it to La Push. I never even got a chance to interrupt.