Chapter 11

With every year that came to pass
More clouds appear until the sky went black
And now there's
No sunlight,
No sunlight.
And now there's
No sunlight,
No sunlight anymore.

You disappeared with the same speed
The idealistic things I believed
The optimist died inside of me
No sunlight

-Death Cab for Cutie, No Sunlight

Time flew by while I was painting. I remembered the first time I saw the absurdly beautiful boy. I remembered his tousled bronze hair, his twinkling tawny eyes. I remembered the spark that would ignite in them the first time I told him I loved him, and every time after that. I remember the way he looked at me the first time we met. He looked frustrated and annoyed and above all hateful. I remember the conflicts raging inside my mind, trying to decide if this stranger really truly hated me for no reason. I know now that my blood tempted him, it called to him. I know now this was just another reason I didn't deserve him, and never would have him.

I remember the silky, warm tone of his voice when he was happy. I remember the sweet, yet menacing cold of his voice when he was angry. I remembered the flame in my heart that still burned full-force with love. I remember that when we touched, an alarming spark seemed to teem where our skin touched. I remember the irresistible force that surrounded him like an aura, beckoning me to come closer. I remember his dazzling white smile that left butterflies in my stomach and stops in my heart.

I remembered what it felt like to hold him in my arms, his sculpted, icy body against mine. I remember the heat I felt when his skin brushed mine. I remembered how perfect he was in the meadow. I remember how he said he was the lion and I was the lamb. In all truth, I probably was the stupidest lamb in all eternity.

I remember tracing the pattern of his granite skin. I remember the way his skin threw sparkles across the ground where we lay. I remember holding his hand in both of mine and searching for the hidden facets. I remember how he almost lost control. I remember him listening to my beating heart, and I listening to his silent one. Above all, I remember how it felt when he kissed me. I remember the blood boiling in my veins, my pulse racing. I remember the sparks and the simmering heat on my lips. I remember his smell, the way his lips taste. I remember the way I attacked him, pulling him closer. I remember the way his hair felt when I ran my hands through it. I remember every part of him in perfect detail.

My hand came to a halt and my unseeing eyes focused. I was looking at a painting with perfect detail. His skin was flawless alabaster, his hair shining bronze. His eyes were a shimmering topaz, filled with deep emotions of love, curiosity, hate, fear, wonder, and torment. He tormented me, the yearning to be near him stronger than ever. I ran my finger across the glorious shape of his lips. I ran my hand over the hair, wishing that miracles actually happened and he would appear before me. I wished and prayed, staring at the painting. I closed my eyes and begged, yet no such miracle happened. I opened my eyes to my empty room. It was a lot like my life now. Empty and devoid of anything that resembled what my previous life had been like- filled with love and balance, and insecurity and fear beneath the good.

I closed my eyes and sighed. His image was plastered across the inside of my lids. Every time I closed my eyes I saw him. The high from remembering Edward sent me crashing back into reality. The trance-like state in which I painted kept me in a shell away from pain. I was out of the trance's protection. Right now, the pain crashed over me.

I inhaled sharply, causing my lungs to burn in response. The pain burned and radiated through every pore of my body. I closed my eyes and crushed my arms into my ribs, trying to breath around the hole of pain. I let the tears flow in a torrent down my face and shook in agony. The pain clawed its way threw my chest. I screamed when the pain became to much. I hate you Edward Cullen. Look what you did to me! I'm broken because of you. You took away all of me and left me here to rot in pain! I rather you would've let James kill me! At least that way, I could still imagine you loved me as much as I love you.

Love and hate were strange things. If you love someone enough, you would rather die than see them in pain. If you loved someone, you were there for eternity, to never leave their side. If you hated someone, you never saw past the hate. You vowed to get them back. You wanted to see them suffer in the way they made you suffer. Love and hate are similar feelings. They both last long, and they both are the strongest emotions. They are also similar in the way that if you loved someone with all of your heart, and they did you wrong, hate could creep in and consume all of that love. I could never hate Edward more than I loved him, yet hate still had a part in my heart, no matter how small, for Edward Cullen.

I screamed again in pain and cried to myself until I could cry no more. I still sobbed and choked and gagged, but tears were now absent. I prayed again, for the second time tonight, that I could be rid of the pain. That prayer was answered by unconsciousness, a numbing to the pain.

I was lying in a bed in the middle of a dark room. I woke up, and started searching for a light switch. I walked around the room, running my hands along the walls. I couldn't find the switch, or anything for that matter. I was about to circle the room again for the second time, when the walls faded from beneath my hand. I gasped in surprise as the wall revealed a bleak void. I, being the clumsiest person alive, lost my balance when the wall disappeared. I fell into the void. I fell for a long time, until my back smacked into a hard surface. I was on the floor of the forest, in the exact spot Edward had left me. It was dark and the shadows between the trees were menacing. I scrambled to my feet and spun around, trying to find light. There was none, so I stared straight ahead into the trees.

I heard a rustle from the leaves and I jumped. I walked backwards away from the noise. It kept coming closer until it stopped altogether. I was still backing up though. Then my back hit a sturdy wall, but there was nothing behind me but trees. I turned around and tried to find a break or a leak in the transparent wall to escape through. There was none though. I heard the rustling in the leaves coming closer, and I became panicked. I banged the glass wall with my fists frantically until it hurt so bad that I couldn't continue. I smacked wearily at the wall, hoping that something would save me. The rustling in leaves grew louder until it was directly behind me. I slowly turned away from the wall, shaking in fear. A shadow in the leaves stepped forward. I let out the breath I had been holding in a whisper. "Edward," I said dreamily with relief. He smiled mischievously at me. There was something different about him, something I couldn't pinpoint. I stepped backwards, my instincts screaming at me to run. I didn't understand why. Edward stared at me in curiosity. I realized what the difference was.

Edward's eyes were a piercing, livid, blood-red. I let out a startled gasp and whispered his name again. "Please, please Edward, don't!" For some reason I already knew what he wanted. My breathing sped up in panic. A strange light passed over his features, and he smiled wider. Instead of his usual pearly whites, his teeth were sharp and deadly. His eyes were filled with blood-lust. He sauntered closer to me, his fangs sliding over his lips. His eyes glinted in determination. I held perfectly still when he leaned in, smelling my neck. "Delicious," he murmured. I was frozen in panic.

He lifted his head back to mine and leaned in. His lips gently caressed mine and I felt the electricity of him, even in this demonic form. I shuddered delicately at the sensation of his lips against mine. He pulled away and leaned his head back down to my neck, carefully pressing his lips above my collarbone. I felt my flesh tearing as his teeth sank into my neck. I screamed in pain.

My eyes stung when I opened them to the harsh light of morning. It was Sunday and Charlie would be fishing again. I shuddered at the horrific yet lovely dream. I don't care if he ended up killing me, the kiss made up for it. I moved the dream to the number one of my "Top Ten Dreams since Edward Left," list, or TTDSEL list for short. My other dreams all involved him, but without a kiss.

I climbed out of my bed, not bothering to make it. I pulled my hair into a loose bun, not bothering to take a shower. I wouldn't be seeing another human being besides maybe Charlie today. I trudged sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen. I decided to change my selection of cereal to cocoa puffs, since the shredded wheat was empty besides the pound of crumbs at the bottom. I dumped the crumbs in the trash can, pulled a bowl out of the cupboard, grabbed the milk from the fridge, and prepared my breakfast. I ate in silence, occasionally glancing at the clock or out the window. After I was finished with my chocolate feast, I walked around the house aimlessly.

I looked in the living room and stared at the pictures above the mantle. There was thirteen of me, all from the school pictures. They started with me being a happy kindergartener missing three teeth, to a fake-smiling anorexic-looking senior.

I started walking around again and decided to stop by at Mike's for a surprise visit. I had been such a horrible girlfriend; I decided I would put forth my best effort to connect with him. I didn't want to smell bad, so I took a quick shower and blow dried my thin hair. I pulled on jeans and a grey t-shirt with some black converse. I threw on an oversized zip-up sweatshirt and made my way to my truck.

When I pulled into his driveway, there was an unfamiliar car in the driveway. I parked my truck and walked up to his house. It was a big, yellow, colonial-style, two-story, house. I knocked politely on the red door and waited for someone to answer. I rang the doorbell, and still no one answered. I pulled open the door a crack and yelled, "Mike?"

I pushed it open a little more and looked into the living room. Mike was there all right. He was sitting on the familiar tan couch with Lauren Mallory. They were making out so passionately, it was a wonder the house hadn't caught on fire. I stared there like an idiot for a few seconds in shock. Lauren realized there was someone at the door and turned towards me. "Shit," she said quietly. Mike slowly turned around and stared in shock. "Shit," he said, repeating Lauren. I felt the traitor tears falling silently down my face.

"Bella!" Mike yelled. I just stood there in the entry way. Mike came running down the stairs to apologize.

There were a lot more tears than before. I felt their warmth leaving trails down my cheeks. "How…you…I…" I said, stumbling over my words, "We…We're through!" I slammed the door in his face. I sprinted to my truck and hopped in, speeding away. Mike just stared at me from the doorway.

What I said before, about not caring if those other girls had him, yeah it wasn't true. I didn't love Mike, but I liked him well enough. It was the shock of it all that had hurt me so bad. It was the fact that now someone else had left me. Edward didn't want me, Mike didn't want me. I had a sinking feeling that I was unwanted.

I didn't know where I was going until I pulled into the driveway. Angela's car was the only one there. I took that as a good sign and I stumbled up her driveway to the door. I was blinded by the tears as I rang the doorbell. I could see her tall silhouette as she answered the door and her long dark brown hair.

"Bella, what's the matter? Are you okay?" she asked. I just stood there and shook my head, the tears making me unable to talk. She pulled me by the arm into her bedroom. She sat me on her bed and went to get me a bottle of water. When she returned, I gratefully chugged down about half of the bottle. She just sat beside me, holding me comfortingly in her arms. I waited until I was able to speak again, and then started the whole story from when we went to the Chinese restaurant, with his flirting. I told her about the idea of trying to be a good girlfriend. I told her how I saw him with Lauren, and how I stormed out before giving Mike a chance to explain. I told her that I probably should've listened to what he had to say before I left.

"No you shouldn't have! I'm glad that you did what you did. That stupid bastard doesn't deserve someone as amazing as you!" said Angela. I chuckled humorlessly.

"Yeah he deserves better than me, the emotionally scarred anorexic. I'm so fan-freakin-tastic," I said sarcastically.

"Bella, when will you see that you're so much more than that? You're a really good person and pretty much the best friend I've had. You and Jessica are who I consider my best friends. And Jessica is a fake bitch. You're just you Bella, and you don't try to be anyone else. I like that about you," Angela said. That was the longest speech I've ever heard her give.

"I wasn't a very good friend to you this past year, forgive me?" I asked.

"Well, obviously," she said. We both giggled.

"Thanks Angela," I said.

"For what?" she asked.

"For everything," I answered. I really liked Angela. I could see now that we were friends, possibly even best friends. I smiled at that idea. I'd never had a best friend before. At least I'd never had a friend that was there for me no matter what. Angela would probably still talk to me if she was in Alice's situation.

"So," said Angela, "have you decided if you're doing the art show?"

"I think I am. I just finished my painting last night." Angela smiled a huge smile.

"It will be so much fun!" she said. I agreed with her wholeheartedly. I needed someone like Angela to talk to, someone who wouldn't judge me and who listened to my problems.

Angela and I spent the rest of the day together, talking and gossiping and she even gave me a makeover. When I was cheered up and my hair was perfectly styled and my fingers were perfectly manicured, I went home. I promised to bring my painting to school to show her. When I got home, I wondered how such a crappy day could turn so fantastic.

But even the best day couldn't keep away the terrors of the night, all of them revolving around Edward Cullen; all of them involving my pain and loss.