What is it about Edward that makes my mind scream?

Is it (a) the fact that every time i look at him, i feel this familiarness, and it keeps beating my mind, trying to get me to remember? OR is it (b) the fact that i don't even know his fucking last damn name?

I think, with all common sense and logic that builts the world, that the only obvious answer is (b), i don't even know his surname.

"Edward," i asked, pushing my food around with my silver fork—not hungry in the least. I'm never hungry, really, if you think about it. My stomach never wants food now-a-days. But when it did—on those rare, monthly occasions—it wanted a lot.

Edward looked at me, fondly, of course. How i loved that pale face, those multi-colored eyes, those pink tender lips. "Yes?," Edward asked.

The way those lips moved—god, i wanted to scream.

But i didn't, i had to keep strait. I couldn't get side tracked, not this time. "Your full name. Tell me." It was a demand this time, not a question. I had noticed, oddly, that if i demand something, Edward would do it, but if i asked something(on his agenda) he would turn it right back on me. I hated that. So this time, i demanded it.

Edward eyebrows knotted together, obviously trying to conjure some thoughts. His name; it was about him. His agenda. His business.

I realized a long time ago that Edward rather talk about me and my issues, not about him. I knew what he though: I shouldn't burden him, he has enough burdens. I'm here to protect him, not cause him to worry.

But he didn't get it. I wanted to know. I needed to know. In this relationship, we had to trust each other. He had to trust me to be able to stand on my feet and fight.

Then, the corners of Edwards lips twitched upward into a crooked grin that flashed a bright grin—i wanted to squint with how they shone, but i didn't—it would look weird. I don't know why that mattered though, i usually didn't care how people looked at me. But with Edward, it was different.

"Edward Mason," Edward said. (A/N:OOOOOOOOOOOOH SHIT. I JUST FOUND OUT IT WAS 'MASON' NOT 'MATHEWS' IM SORRY! T_T_T_T_T_T_T_T

There was a dull throb, like i knew it. I was expecting to have a flash; for my mind to go wild. Whenever i 'tick' or 'throb' came, i would remember something of the past. I remembered sex allot. Sweet sex. Rape sex. And sometimes, i didn't remember, but i saw. Like, something new. That hadn't happened. The future.

But my mind didn't go wild, and i was slightly glad, yet disappointed.

I grinned triumphantly, cheerfulness tingling in my body. "Thank you, Edward Mason."

"Hey Sam, isn't Masons cute?'

Sam looked up from the television—from the show Rob&Big

He raised an eyebrow, curiosity beaming. "Who's 'Masons'?"

I stared at him, shocked. Was he mentally retarded or something?

"Edward Mason," i said more clearly. "You know, the guy who's taking care of me and who im in a relationship with?" I waved a hand, just because im a person who likes to talk with their hands. "Left this morning for family matters or something."

Sam still didn't get it, and it kind of annoyed me. For a guy who all his friends looked up too(.ing) he was sure acting pretty dumb. Edward spent all his time here, and Sam constantly acknowledged the other male with an odd expression that I didn't get. Like 'if-you-mess-up-again-I'll-kill-you'. So was sam pick up the memory-loss plague?

Then, he said, "You mean Edward Cullen?"

Now i was bewildered. Edward.....Cullen? Who the fuck was that?

Sam noticed my expression and frowned, turning back to the t.v to see Drama's car painted with a dolphin. "His name is Edward Cullen. That's a fact."

And for some reason, the word 'Cullen' just seemed to bing! Loud and ringing.

Blank pale faces and bodies; legs; swirling forests........

I blinked the memory back, taking a breath. But then, I choked, and coughed it out—my throat dry as air and itchy as hell. It was like I didn't even need it...it wasn't necessary...

And I had to ask himself, my heart sinking deeper and deeper into this uncomfortable depth.

Had Edward lied to me?

Rebel shuddered. Actually....trembled.

What was this feeling? Pulling him? Consuming him?

Why was it there? Why did he feel so wild, so.....ravenous?

Rebel wanted to scream.

This off pain.

Inflicting.

Burning.

Burying itself in Rebel's core.

Taking him over; eating him.

Tying him down—promising to never release him.

So horrible.

Rebel lay on a cold, rectangular surface that fit his size perfectly—as if it were made just for him. Not to long, not to wide. Perfect.

Was it steel? It was so cold...

He was alone. No companion.

Where was Sebastian? His source? His life?

It was too bright....to much light. Rebel hated it. He needed darkness; he thrived off blackness.

Rebel's crimson eyes remained open wide—failing to blink.

He couldn't move.

He was strapped down.

Voices.

So loud—vociferus.

To loud

Annoying

Laughing. Mocking

Invading

They yell. Force their way into his mind

Unwanted and unwelcome

What do they want?

What do they pester? What do they gain?

Rebel hated it. He couldn't breath; couldn't think.

He screamed

"Quite loud, don't you think?," Latika asked, feeling the endless agony cries of Rebel's mind.

Dimitri smirked, wrapping his arms around the annoyed Max. Another fight, of course, but Max accepted it. "It's beautiful. Pain, i mean. It's radiating off him."

Katrina looked up, her eyes half open. She gazed into an endless space, and it was the look of death. She was thinking. Feeling. Her body beamed with agony, and she was lost in pleasure. She slowly closed her eyes and buried her head once more into her arms.

"He does not like being away from his source—that's obvious," Blair said, her arms wrapped around Forest's neck loosely as her legs encircled Forest's waist.

Ryuusuke examined the pair of eyes on James left arm, and then grabbed three shades of brown and then a black, carefully and skillfully coloring in them. "It's annoying in every way possible," he simply said. James nodded in agreement. It there was one thing they hated, it was hearing anyone else in their mind. They usually blocked it out, but you could not block out this. Their minds seared with ail, and all Ryuusuke wanted to do was take a pen and scratch Sebastian's name on James body, causing a direct kill.

Cebe glared at Altair, impatient. The sounds—they were to beautiful to resist. Screams—they all loved them. Painful, hurt screams filled with terror. It was heaven. He was tired of waiting.

Altair shook his head. "No, not yet. Soon."

"How soon?," Cebe growled.

"Soon enough. A month, maybe less." Altair was also annoyed. He was not a person for patience. It was....aggravating. They both needed to feed, also, and their hunger was causing most of the irritation.

Most had never liked the mind connection to each other—a trait they received from their werewolf side.

Traits, Ryuusuke thought as he dug his pen into James's arm—causing blood to drench the lines— writing Claire Hill-Rape-Suicide, Are burdens

What was this?

The room was black. Was it even a room? It was so endless. A mass of blackness.

What was i in? My feet were soaked—the bottom. It was so warm. It smelled of copper, and i could almost taste it.

Blood.

Rich.

The growl. It was right infront of me, growling.

So big. Russet fur. Beautiful

Evil.

Read eyes. Angered. Insane. Mad.

Fangs. Flaring. Stained.

Blood.

Dripping.

Hourglass. Behind the madness.

Dripping sand. Blood. Red.

Time. Soon.

Slowly.

Pain.

Blood.

Jacob awoke with a start, a scream radiating out his mouth. It fell silent. That eery silence.

His mind was frantic, the dream still spinning in his head. Flashing.

Edward, Jacob finally thought.

He was gone. Family issues.

Edward Cullen.

Liar. Non-truster.

Jacob found his hands reaching under his bed, shaking. When they came back up, there was the book.

The name-less book. The magical book.

The book flipped open when Jacob set it on his lap.

To that empty page.

That blank, old, creme colored page...

Then, in that same black, beautiful cursive:

Ari Thorn

Jacob gazed at it. His mind. Swirling. It was like this book..no, Ari Thorn, could answer so many things.

Jacob then found his hands reaching for a pen, uncaping it, and then writing:

Who are you?

Jacob half expected in answer, but it when it came, his heart thumped loudly.

I am Ari Thorn

Jacob quickly wrote back.

Do you....do you know who i am?

Yes

Do you know what im going through?

Yes

Can i trust you?

Yes

Will you help me?

No reply came. Then, Jake's mind started to go fuzzy. As if he was about to die. He swayed, and then, he fell into in endless hole.

He slowly opened his eyes...........


This could've been out last night, to bad the Document Manager wasn't working xD

Sorry for grammar mistaked and spelling issues

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