Saint Claude – Christine and the Queens

i am lying at the bottom of the deepest trench in the ocean, cradled by the sediment on the ocean floor. in the thick, soupy darkness i see the faint glow of bioluminescent marine life, like twinkling stars off in the distance. i feel lulled, soothed by the dancing lights and the thick rolling waves massaging my flesh and bones. relaxed, so relaxed my body is too heavy to move. the pressure at the bottom of this sea has made me gelatinous.

suddenly the sand beneath me shifts; becomes softer and smoother, less grainy and more cohesive. it feels like human flesh. i resist the urge to rollover – it'd be too difficult anyway – and somehow i already know who's lying beneath me. edward is cradling me, not the sand. his fingers ghost over me like jellyfish tentacles, delicate and barely there and scalding all at once. i am stunned. paralyzed. fingers around my neck, my wrists, burning the inner flesh of my thighs with their intense grip. i hear screaming and at first i mistake it for my own voice, but it's my mother – defensive screeching drenched in fury. her loud wailing echoes through the water in visible bioluminescent waves; though i can barely feel her voice i can clearly see it. i try to sit up, to stop lying down and looking towards the surface but edward's hands have immobilized me – when did he have so many? i'm ensnared. i hear an angry and animalistic roar that the sea tells me is my father. the light of their voices shake before me, quick and nauseating. my writhing grows more urgent but to no avail. edward, silent, faceless and many handed is holding me down and his grip is growing tighter with each passing second. i feel his limbs tangle with mine and my mother's howls become painful to hear. she is being maimed. i want to help her. my father's roars make the lights venomous and sharp. his mouth sounds filled with water. or blood. i try to scream but the water is in my lungs now and my mouth and im drowning and sinking and being pulled down into the center of the earth by limbs i can no longer identify.

i awake swimming in my own sweat, breathing heavily as though i've only just broken the surface of that nightmarish sea. quickly i turn on the small lamp to my left, afraid of the unfamiliar darkness. my eyes ghost over my bedroom as i recall the events that brought me here. right. after that nerve wracking dinner, esme fussed over me for the better half of an hour while carlisle called edward into his study (with rosalie on his heels like a grumpy dog [of the purest pedigree]). once settled in, she and alice had lingered around me as though they were trying to distract me from what had transpired – they talked about trivial things while lounging around, occasionally pressing me for minimal input. i was grateful. it wasn't until i had adjusted to the intrusion that i realized how necessary it was.

why did i have that nightmare? after surveying my surroundings i'm left with a few clues. there's just something too comfortable about the lovely guest room the cullens have afforded me. the thread count of the sheets are too high, the pillows are too silken, the breeze wafting in from the slightly open window too light and too cool. even the pajamas alice gave me for bed slide against my skin like they're barely there. without a doubt, i'm even more out of my element than i usually am. but what's more disconcerting: the nature of this pristine bedroom or my reaction to it? am i masochist? here i am, free of the cyclical violence between my parents and yet i can only find myself feeling out of place and worse…

homesick.

a knock at the door interrupts my abstraction.

"come in," i say before glancing at the clock on the end table beside me. almost two in the morning. alice walks into the room slowly and i can tell she's restraining herself. her eyes are bright and energetic.

"i thought you'd be up," she whispers as she plops herself down at the foot of the bed. "want to talk?"

"about?" i flip the pillows over and pull the covers off my body, disgusted by my own sweat. if she can see the oily sheen on my face, surely illuminated by the light of the lamp, she's kind enough not to mention it.

"about how things turned out today? about how you feel? mom didn't really want to pester you to talk about it before you were ready –"

"but you're not your mother and have no problem pressing me for information at two in the morning."

"exactly!" she laughs. yawning, she stretches out across the foot of the bed so that her feet just barely dangle off the side. she rests her head in her hand and watches me expectantly.

"it is very… heavy. for the lack of better words. i guess i wish i could close up shop and stop being a complex organism." she hums in understanding.

"i'm happy you're here and i'm happy with the way things turned out but at the same time i feel kind of drained. i know your life must weigh you down far more than it does me, and i thought about that for a while tonight. i only know my life. my shoes. what was it like? to grow up in the home you did?"

what was it like? my mind drifts to a memory as distant as the nearest star; sometimes charlie and reneé would screech so loudly that i'd slip through the back door and lie down where the mowed grass met the unruly forest. during one of these bouts a storm rolled in, abrupt and robust. before my wandering mind registered the dark clouds thick droplets were falling onto my face and arms, cold and welcome. part of me felt afraid and tempted to go inside (i didn't want to get into trouble) but a swear word echoing from the house reassured me that i wouldn't be missed. as the thunder cackled and the lightning danced, i sat at the base of a large tree and fiddled with a few rocks at my feet. my heart was as heavy as those clouds, but unlike them i could not cry.

"it was like sinking in a tar pit for seventeen years," i reply without thinking. my voice is thicker than i expect and i try to clear it, embarrassed. but alice says nothing for a very long time. her head in her hands, her eyes dark and wandering like iridescent beetles, we sit in a pregnant silence. i sneak peeks at her to see if she's still awake and she is. the wind soothes my nerves like a balm. after what feels like hours she opens her mouth.

"rosalie was really protective of me after edward was brought home. me and mom. she didn't want us to be hurt anymore than we had already and she just didn't know edward. the fact that he was blood didn't matter, not to rose. he frightened her and so she frightened him. i sometimes wonder if their relationship will ever recover." alice rolls over onto her back and folds her hands over her stomach. "i think if she wasn't always so defensive the two of you would be really close."

i can't help but snort. "i doubt that."

"you're both blunt, quick to judge and dismissive of those around you." she quips. i clear my throat again, this time to hide my laugh. her eyes flash to my face and i struggle to look reproachful. satisfied with whatever expression i'm showing her, she continues. "but i get the feeling that, like rose, you've had your defenses up for a long time. protecting yourself. frightening those who come close and make you nervous. if i'm right, then you're just as compassionate and empathetic as rose. in fact, i think all of us are too sensitive." she giggles to herself. "you, me, rose, edward. everything has affected us so deeply it's made us shadows of our former selves." another silence draws us into its arms while i process what she's said. if she's right, if we're this damaged, what does this mean for us? what will be there, in the near future? what can we expect from ourselves and from the world around us? was i someone who could hope for better things, for myself and for them? alice stretches again before sitting up and facing me. "i don't know about you, but i feel like going for a swim."

"definitely," i say, not missing a beat. she gets up from the bed and i rush over to the dresser to extract my bathing suit and two of the plushy towels esme stored away. i toss one to alice, who's already headed for the door. i'm right behind her, slightly skipping as we tip toe down the hall and past all the closed doors. she stops to knock on one.

"yeah." edward's voice slips through the wood of the door before alice opens it. my eyes quickly take in the minimalist nature of edward's bedroom. the walls are bone white, the only thing decorating them several shelves of CDs and books. his carpet is the color of coffee laced with cream, warm yet plain like a clean beach. opposite of the door is a large window that nearly encompasses the entire wall. there are no curtains, no drapes, just the faint moonlight bleeding through the panes. it's a cloudy night. edward looks up at us from a tiny black leather book.

"we're going swimming." alice announces. "meet us by the pool in ten." i wait for a smart remark or declaration of love but edward returns to writing, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips set in a hard line. alice closes the door and heads for the stairs. "i used to go to the pool alone but edward could see me through his window at night and he didn't like the idea of me swimming without supervision. we agreed that no matter when i'm going swimming, i'll tell him so he can play lifeguard."

"sounds like a good system." i comment but my mind is on edward's abnormally calm demeanor. "i didn't know edward writes."

"hardly anyone does," she says while yanking on some sneakers. we sit at the base of the stairs and tie our shoelaces. "it's the one thing he doesn't brag about to his girlfriends, though he's been writing since he came to forks." quickly we're out the door and heading down the front steps. i alternate between looking at the sky and alice as i try to keep pace behind her. the clouds are blankets spread thin over the world, unraveling in random places to reveal the stars above them. the moon is nearly full and its light affords me sight in the cloaked woods. alice has led me off the paved driveway and into the dense foliage surrounding their home. reminiscent of her brother, she looks over her shoulder to make sure i haven't fallen or veered off track. her footsteps are barely audible in the natural silence. she is every bit graceful on land as she is in the water. up ahead i spot a small construction, shaped like a homely cottage. vines of wisteria and pothos have grown on its sides, snaking up the walls and disappearing onto the roof.

"i like the plants." i whisper. my voice pierces the night.

"i tried clearing them the first couple of weeks. you know, maintenance. what a joke. i've learned to love them." she drags her hand across the bed of leaves before opening the wooden door. "it looks a bit older than it actually is. this was built for my twelfth birthday."

we step into the darkness of the pool house and then alice flips a switch on the nearby wall. large LED lights jump on and drape the place in light. the pool house is unexpectedly pristine, white walls and spotless porcelain floors. the pool isn't very large, definitely smaller than the pool at forks high but i can see that it's much deeper. opposite the entrance, on the other side of the pool, there is another door. "it's twelve feet deep. come on." we head to that other wooden door, the only sound the light tapping of our feet. we change quickly, alice producing a white swimsuit from one of the lockers while i quickly haul on mine. we exit the locker room just as edward closes the front door behind him. i let my eyes linger on him while he walks over to the edge of the pool, his hand scratching the back of his head and his eyes heavy with exhaustion. he stretches before sitting down and i glimpse a sliver of his pale stomach, speckled with light hair. he places his thumb and index finger in his mouth and whistles loudly.

"fifteen minutes." he proclaims. "i'm tired tonight."

"aww," alice whines but she's already running to the pool, her body lithe even as she cannonballs into the water. i walk around the pool towards edward, opting to sit beside him instead. he smiles at me, obviously pleased.

"what, no late night swim for you?" i ask with feigned surprise, "it would wake you right up."

"oh no, very few things could wake me up right now." he leans forward, his eyelids sluggish but his eyes intense. "i have some other exercises in mind if you'd like to help me stay awake."

"don't make me gag cullen." he barks out a laugh before releasing a deep sigh.

"that in and of itself was refreshing, bella. only you." i lean back on my hands before using them to lift me off the tiles and into the pool. i slip soundlessly below the surface. the water is cold, but not so much that it's uncomfortable – just cold enough that whatever dregs of fatigue were creeping up on me shrivel and die as i kick off the side wall and power through within some front crawl strokes. i pause when i reach the other side of the pool to search for alice. i wipe the water from my face and spot her in the middle of the pool, floating carelessly on her back. i position myself for my second kickoff, though i do so this time with less momentum. my hand touches her as i complete a butterfly stroke. then i take a deep breath and dive down. the bubbles flowing through my hair tickle my face and i force my eyes open to watch them float to the top and burst open. the light from the ceiling undulates on the waves of the surface. i allow myself to freefall; i close my eyes and listen to my heartbeat, wet and determined in my chest.

this was just what i needed. a cold, refreshing swim to recharge my defenses and restore the shifted equilibrium inside. a lot has happened over the course of a few days and i needed to release these useless feelings to the water around me. the cullens could try, and i knew they would, but ultimately what would change about my predicament? staying with them however long they allowed didn't mean that my parents were who they were. and if anything alice said tonight was correct, then how could i be sure that i wasn't destined to become one of them? the water wasn't only my salvation but my crutch. without it to soothe and alleviate the pressure inside me, something dark and powerful threatened to effervesce. it is only a matter of time before the only people who can deal with me are the ones who created me.

i swim back up to the surface and swallow a mouthful of air before lying on my back, radiating tranquility. alice was sitting next to edward now, her eyes wandering like they had in the guest room. i close my eyes but keep my back arched, concentrating yet relaxing – meditating. after a while edward clears his throat.

"it's time to head back." he says through a yawn.

after alice and i change (and after listening to her ponder as to why i never dry off), the three of us trudge through the woods in virtual silence, though my body is hyperaware of edward's presence beside me. alice loops her arm through mine and i look up at the sky. the clouds have unraveled into nothingness, revealing a large expanse of glittering stars dancing in the black sky. i'm reminded of my nightmare.

"you can use the pool whenever you'd like bella," alice breathes, also looking up at the stars. "and edward and i agree that you should tell him when you're going for a swim, just for safety."

"just for safety, huh edward?" i scoff, smiling internally.

"among other things," he murmurs, tilting his head up to survey the sky. the three of us stop in the forest, chilled to the bone now, but mesmerized by the heavens above. the leaves and branches of the trees bleed into the skyscape, cutting it into jagged and beautiful puzzle pieces. the entire night feels bewitched; cold water dripping down my neck and into my clothes, the stars beaming above, alice standing here with me like a sister in arms…

and even edward. a calm protective feature looming over the two of us, mysterious in his own right. i peek to see if he's still looking at the sky, only to find him staring at me, as if he's sensed my thoughts. his expression, at first questioning, quickly melts into something else, something i can't decipher. this wordless moment passes between us and i tuck it away for further contemplation later. all i can think right now is that it's not so bad… none of it is really, if i get to stand with them here, like this, once more.