Bella
Why did he have to tell me he was coming in advance? This day could have been a day of exploration and discovery, and now I won't be able to enjoy any of it. Every few minutes I'll be checking the sky above, trying to calculate how much time I have left. So much for not torturing me.
I savor the rest of the orange. They were never my favorite, but something about this being my last orange makes it delicious.
Dread claws at me when I think of leaving the clearing. I'm afraid that once I'm weaving through the disorienting trees, I won't be able to find this place again. Of course I feel safest in an open area that is anything but safe. Of course I want to stay where the vampire has already been; somewhere he's had plenty of time to grow familiar with.
The dirt that has dried on my legs is a good excuse to linger a little longer. I stretch the partially brown appendages out and pour some of my leftover water on them. It's foolish to waste the liquid, I know, I should savor it to drink throughout the day. But the terrible state of my hygiene is currently more pressing than my momentarily quenched thirst.
Once my calves have returned to a semi-natural color, I collect the pieces of orange rind from where I'd dropped them on the ground. Their brightness stands out well against the green of the forest. They could make useful markers, and, if nothing else, reassure me I'm not going in circles.
I take the over-halfway-empty water bottle along too, knowing I'm bound to get thirsty eventually.
And, with both hands full, I trudge nervously into the obscure.
I don't like the woods at night. Not only does the darkness make me almost completely blind, but everything living here seems determined to be as loud as possible. The endless noise is somehow scarier than silence. If there are any signs of the vampire, I am guaranteed to miss them.
The final shred of the orange skin is still clutched in my fingers. There is a weird sense of security that comes along with keeping it. As if as long as I have it, I will be safe. Breakfast scraps and safety have nothing to do with one another, but I find comfort in the nonexistent connection.
Just like I knew I would, I regret using my water earlier. My mouth is dry and now there's nothing I can do about it. I left the empty plastic bottle behind sometime ago, hoping to relieve the urge to drink by ridding myself of all reminders.
So far it isn't working.
The wind blows through then. I walk faster, wishing I could run without the darkness limiting me. Where is the moon? Why is there so much black?
"Human…"
The word is just a breath carried along with the breeze, so soft my mind immediately dismisses it as a figment of my imagination. But I know better than to dismiss anything and throw my arms out in front of me as I sprint ahead.
Why are you running? I wonder at myself, it's no use.
I don't hear anything else as I brush past unseen wildlife. And, even though stopping is the last thing I want to do, I soon have to.
I latch on to one of the many tree trunks in my path and wrap myself around it. The side of my face presses against its rough surface while I try to catch my breath. The dark remains thick and heavy; I find it less irritating to close my eyes than to strain them against the impossible and still not make out anything.
Once sight is out of the picture, I finally notice how quiet it is. The constant sounds of nightlife that had been bothering before have given way to complete silence. It's not just quiet. It's eerily quiet. And I was dead wrong about the noises being more frightening than this.
Only the presence of something as petrifying as a vampire could cause such an unnatural reaction.
My pounding heart leaps into my throat. I'm suddenly positive what I heard before wasn't the wind.
I am suddenly positive I am not alone.
His gentle voice comes from somewhere behind me, "Tired of running already?"
I hold tighter to the tree but otherwise stay still. Air pulls in and out of me in shaky spurts.
"I hoped you would be more difficult to find," Edward says, closer now, "But you've definitely made the pursuit memorable."
A second later, I feel his freezing hands come into contact with my balled up fists. I snap them away instantly, but he curls his fingers around one of my wrists to keep the right hand from escaping.
My eyes fly open. I can vaguely see him standing slightly to the side of the tree. The vampire carefully unrolls my fist with his other hand. He takes the piece of orange rind from where it rests in my palm and holds it out for us both to examine.
"I've never had a victim leave a trail behind for me to follow. Although, you're the first I've warned beforehand. Prior to the revolution, humans were unsuspecting as a rule."
Edward drops my wrist. I cross both arms over my chest, cursing myself mentally for making things even easier for my murderer. But the anger doesn't last long. It is actually kind of a relief to have him here; to have the waiting and the worrying behind me.
The vampire lowers himself down into a crouch with deliberate slowness. He sets the orange peel on the ground exaggerating every movement. I can feel his eyes on mine the entire time.
Then again, the waiting and the worrying may be just beginning.
I automatically take a few steps back-
And then I'm pinned against something- another tree trunk I hadn't even realized was behind me- and Edward Cullen is less than two inches from my face.
I scream in shock.
He's gripping me by the tops of my arms, his too close face fiercely wild. He ducks into my neck.
"I can smell the adrenaline rushing through you," he says, "It's marvelous."
This is it, I think as the vampire scopes my neck for a second time.
But then something else pops into my head. A totally unexpected, unwanted epiphany:
I don't want to die like this.
I know that this death is far better than any fate I would have met at the blood mill, except maybe having my neck snapped. But to be given a taste of the world beyond the O. P. B. M. and have it taken away so quickly, doesn't seem fair.
Involuntary sobs accompany the spasms of terror shaking my body. Unable to wipe the tiny droplets, tears stream unstoppably down my cheeks. One of them trickles from me and lands on the vampire.
The moment it comes in contact with him, Edward's head jerks up to stare at me again. His wild eyes follow the paths of wetness running from my eyes to my chin, and, much to my astonishment, soften as they do. The savageness in his black gaze is all but totally subdued.
The abrupt change tranquilizes me. I have spent everyday of my life around vampires, and not once have I seen them show any sign of compassion. I wasn't sure they even had the ability to feel for others.
I am filled with confusion as Edward hesitantly frees one of his hands. I watch his mesmerized expression in bewilderment, and something strange passes between us. I've already discovered that it is impossible for me to hate Edward Cullen, but, even as I see him reaching toward me out of the corner of my eye, I feel no fear. For an instant, I trust him. For an instant, I trust a vampire.
When his fingertips touch the damp skin of my face, the spell is broken. I flinch away instinctively.
"It has been a very long time since I have seen tears," Edward says in a surprisingly shaken voice.
His arms relax at his sides and he walks away from me. I remain where I am, keeping my eyes on his back. As the minutes tick by, I become dully aware of the fact that I am tired. Is it possible that I will live to see another day?
The vampire turns to face me again.
"What's your name, human?" he asks.
I do not answer.