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Chapter 21 – June Fifteenth

I couldn't tell you anything about the room I found myself in. I wasn't focused at all on my surroundings. Instead, I was experiencing a kind of tunnel vision. All I could see was the boy who stood before me…and the gun gripped tightly in his hand.

"This is what you wanted, Bella," Mike said in detached voice.

"No! Mike, don't!" I begged.

"You never wanted me. It was always him that you wanted. It was always him that you loved. Never me."

"I'm sorry, Mike. I tried."

"You tried to love me? You didn't have to try with him. You gave him your heart without him even having to ask for it. He didn't ask for it, did he? He didn't even want it then. But you gave it to him anyway. You gave him what should have been mine."

"Please, don't do this."

"I'm only fulfilling your wish, Bella. You needed me out of the way. You plotted to get rid of me. I simply made things easier by removing myself for you. Now I'm in your way again, aren't I? I'm keeping you from him. You don't want that. I'm more than willing to do this for you again. I only want what will make you happy."

His hand came up then, pressing the gun into his temple.

"For God's sake, Mike! You can't do this to me!"

"It's for the best."

"Listen to me! I never wanted you to die! I can't watch you die again!"

"Goodbye, Bella."

I reached out a hand to try and stop him. How? I don't even know. Was it simply a staying gesture? An attempt to distract him long enough for me to say something brilliant and talk him out of this? Was I trying to grab the gun? Did I intend to wrestle it away from him?

In the end, my intensions didn't matter. At the moment my hand raised, a loud boom sounded. My hands went to my ears to try and muffle the sound, but it was too late. My ears rang with it. As I watched, transfixed and helpless, Mike's head jerked violently to one side.

And then, before my eyes, Mike changed. His skin took on a deathly pallor, which made the blackened, scorched flesh at his temple and the purple shadows surrounding his sunken eyes all the more startling. His lips were tinted an unnatural blue. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, running down his face, down his neck, and finally wetting his shirt, staining it a sickeningly vibrant shade of scarlet.

I expected him to crumple at my feet, but he didn't. He just stood there, staring at me with accusations in his eyes.

I wanted to run, but I was frozen there. I wanted to look away, but I was mesmerized. I couldn't pull my eyes from the ghastly specter of the boy whose love and trust I had betrayed.

I was forced to watch until his life's blood no longer flowed. It was the worst kind of torture, knowing that there was nothing I could do to help. Nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could do to make it right.

"Bella," the macabre apparition finally addressed me in scathing tones, "I hope you're happy now!"

A persistent pounding jarred me out of my nightmare. At first I wasn't sure what it was. But I was grateful to whatever or whoever was causing it for saving me. After a moment though, the fog of sleep cleared my brain, and I realized what the determined knocking meant. Edward was here…just as he'd promised. There was only one problem with that. I wasn't sure I wanted to see him now.

The dream had left me shaky and scared. Actually, scared didn't quite cover it. Freaked the fuck out would be more accurate. I hadn't had a Mike nightmare in a long time, and I'd never had one quite as vivid and horrifying as that one. A combination of fear, adrenaline, and the cold sweat covering my skin left me shivering and unable to get warm, even after I pulled my comforter closer around my body. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest, as if I had just run a somnambulant marathon. I couldn't make myself move. I couldn't make myself go downstairs and open that door. How could I allow myself the comfort of Edward after what my dream-Mike had accused me of? It wasn't right. Obviously that was what my subconscious had been trying to tell me.

Finally the knocking ceased, and moments later my cell phone started playing Edward's ringtone. I was too much of a coward to answer it. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk to him without him immediately knowing that something was wrong.

About a minute of silence followed after the call went to voicemail. I was hoping that maybe he'd just go away. I knew deep down that that would never happen. But still, I hoped.

"Bella?"

He was standing in my doorway.

"How did you get in?" I asked in a flat tone.

"Alice."

"Of course."

"I called her. She told me where you keep the extra key, under the eave," he said. "Is it okay that I let myself in?"

"Yes, Edward. I'm sorry I didn't answer the door or your call. I just…couldn't."

He contemplated me with a frown. "I won't ask you how you're feeling, because it's written all over your face. What happened?"

When he asked me that, it opened the emotional floodgates. I didn't just cry, I sobbed. I finally managed to squeak out, "Nightmare."

"Oh, Bella. I'm so sorry."

And then he did something completely unexpected. He walked over to my bed and climbed in with me. He pulled me close to him and gently brought my face to his chest. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help myself; I clung to him and accepted the comfort he offered.

He ran one hand up and down my back in a soothing gesture, but he didn't say another word until the sobs had stopped.

"Now then, would you like to talk about your nightmare?" he asked.

There was no way I could share it with him. My feelings for him and the guilt I still had over them were central to what had made the dream so terrifying to me. I shook my head no.

He sighed. "I'm worried about you, love. Please, isn't there anything you can tell me about what has you so freaked?"

Without warning, I lost my temper and snapped at him, "I was with Mike, okay? He put a gun to his head and blew his brains out while I watched. There, I told you. I shared. I hope you're happy now!"

Those words, an unintentional echo of Mike's final words to me in my dream, brought fresh tears to my eyes.

"Bella, how can I be happy when you're so sad?" His hand left my back and swiped at the tears on my cheek. When I looked up into his face, there was such tenderness in his eyes. "I am glad that you told me, though. That's exactly the kind of thing you shouldn't let fester. But…there was more to it than that, wasn't there?"

"Yes," I answered.

"But you can't or won't tell me any more of it." It wasn't a question.

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"Bella, have you ever considered keeping a journal?"

"I used to keep one when I was younger, but I don't anymore," I told him.

"Well, I think it might help if you write some of your feelings down. I've already told you that you can talk to me about anything. But I know that there are some things that you don't want to or aren't ready to share with me. Maybe just getting those things out on paper would be good for you."

"I'll think about it, Edward. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed.

We were quiet for several long minutes. But once my tears had finally dried, I started to feel very uncomfortable. I was lying in my bed with Edward Cullen! What in the hell was wrong with me?

"Edward, I don't think we should be here together like this."

"Like what, Bella?" He sounded honestly confused.

"Do you really think that it's a good idea for us to be curled up in bed together like this?"

He chuckled a little and pulled back to look at me. "I'm here to comfort you, Bella. That's all. The last thing on my mind at the moment is hooking up with you."

"Oh." Why did I sound disappointed? Maybe I really did need to get my head examined after all. Of course he didn't want me like that. I was unworthy of him.

"Hey, don't you even dare think that!"

"Think what?" I tried to avoid his gaze.

"Don't try to play innocent with me. What you need right now is a good friend who will just hold you and listen. The last thing you need is someone to take advantage of you when you're feeling vulnerable. Haven't you learned that already?"

When I started to protest, he placed a finger against my lips to shush me. "I know, I know. You were using them. But at least some of them used you back. I would never do that, Bella.

"That being said, however, if I found you in my arms like this under different circumstances, I am sure that I would have a much harder time remaining a gentleman."

My mouth dropped open and I stared at him in shock. He laughed, and my mouth closed with a snap.

"I know you don't believe this, Bella, but you are a beautiful and very desirable woman. A man would have to be crazy not to be attracted to you. I'm definitely not crazy. But I do understand that there is a time and place for everything."

I suddenly felt ill. He couldn't possibly still be hoping that we had a chance together, could he? I was going to have to nip this in the bud. "Edward, I don't think that that's ever going to be possible for us. You have to know that by now, don't you?"

"I know what you've told me. And I respect your decision about us, Bella. Please, just know that what I'm offering you now is strictly friendship, and don't be afraid to accept. I am curious though…" He trailed off.

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. Finally, I couldn't take the suspense any longer. "What do you want to know, Edward?" I asked.

"I'm not sure I should say this to you."

"Well, you kind of have to now. I'm all intrigued," I tried to joke.

"It's just… I was wondering how much of your insistence that we can't be together is due to your actual feelings for me," He paused again then. I could tell he was still uncertain that he wanted to finish this thought. "And how much is because it would be too hard for you if I were that close to you – you know, after all that's happened."

Fuck! He's just way too smart for his own good.

Well, he is brilliant, I'll give you that. But I think this particular gem springs from the fact that he just knows you way too well. You two really would be perfect together if only…

Stop right there. There's no point indulging in "if onlys."

"Edward, I'm going to answer you as honestly as I can, because you deserve no less from me. The truth is that I don't trust myself with you. I don't know how to be with you in that way and not end up hurting you. I destroy everything I touch. I'm a monster. And I won't drag you down with me. I can't." I spoke into his chest, because I couldn't bear to look into his eyes.

"Hey, Bella, look at me. I have something to say, and I want your eyes on mine as I say it."

I forced my gaze upward to meet his.

"I understand why you feel the way you do."

So, he had recognized the truth of what I'd said then? He understood that he needed to stay away from my swath of devastation. Hell, I was practically the human incarnation of Kali, Hindu goddess of death and destruction. But I refused to destroy him too!

"But you need to listen to me now. You are not a monster. You were an innocent girl who through no fault of her own got tangled up in tragic circumstances. Bella, you have the purest soul of anyone I've ever met. How could you even begin to think of yourself as a monster?"

"I can't help the way I feel, Edward. You wanted honesty. There it is."

He nodded. "I appreciate you sharing your feelings with me, Bella. It means so much that you're willing to be open with me. I don't want to discourage that. But let me be clear. I'm not going to agree with you all the time. And I won't be keeping my mouth shut when I think you're mistaken. I wouldn't be doing my job as your friend if I did that.

"Now, I know you haven't eaten anything yet today and it's getting late. Let me fix you something."

"You're going to cook? I'm not sure that's a good idea, Edward. This is an old house, highly flammable."

"Ha ha, very funny. You know, I can't believe I just heard that coming from Bella Swan, card-carrying Feminist Extraordinaire. Did you just stereotype me based on my gender? I think I'm highly offended."

"So, you mean you actually can cook?"

"Yeah, my mom's been training me for a while now. She says that she's determined when I go off to college I'll know how to do my own laundry and make myself a decent meal. She claimed it made her shudder, thinking of me surviving on cold cereal and take-out for four years."

"I knew there was a reason I liked your mother, Edward. Your future girlfriends and eventual wife are going to absolutely bow down and worship her…a man who looks like you who cooks and does laundry too…that's every woman's most fevered fantasy come true."

"Quit trying to make me blush and tell me if you want breakfast or lunch? At this time of day, either would work."

"Do you think you could handle a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup? I'm in the mood for comfort food."

"Pfft, mere child's play…one soup and sandwich coming up. Why don't you hit the shower while I get your lunch ready?"

"Okay, I will."

He got up from the bed then and started towards the door.

"Oh and Edward?"

He stopped and turned back to me. "Yes?"

"Thank you…for putting up with me…again."

He smiled his crooked grin at me. "It's what I live for, Bella."

I actually laughed as he left my room. That had been the last thing I was expecting today. I couldn't imagine myself being in any kind of mood for laughter on a day like this.

I knew it wouldn't take Edward long to heat up a can of soup and make a grilled cheese, so I rushed through my shower. He yelled up to tell me it was ready just after I stepped out, so I hurriedly dressed and ran a comb through my hair. It could air dry while I ate, I decided.

I took the stairs quickly and walked into the kitchen with a smile on my lips – only to be stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of a new centerpiece on my kitchen table. Arranged in a beautiful, delicate crystal vase were a dozen yellow rosebuds. I couldn't have been more startled and panicked if I had found a coiled viper in the middle of the table. Those golden blooms were, perhaps, more venomous to me then even the viper might have been. The toxin carried by the deadliest of serpents usually kills swiftly and efficiently. These roses, however, brought with them a lingering and excruciating pain that would never end for me. Their venom would never kill me, no matter how much the pain they brought might make me wish for just that end.

"Where did those come from?" I asked through stiff and frozen lips.

"Oh, the roses… I just thought you might like them," Edward said lightly. He had been looking down at the bowl he was setting on the table and hadn't yet noticed my reaction to the flowers. When he finally took note of my silence and glanced at me, the smile died on his lips.

"Bella, what's wrong?"

"Why did you bring me yellow roses, Edward? Of all the different colors that roses come in, why did you have to bring me yellow ones?"

"I…I thought they would be cheery. Yellow reminds me of warmth and sunlight. And yellow roses symbolize friendship. They seemed like the perfect choice for me to bring you." He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "But obviously I've fucked up royally somehow. Please, will you tell me what I did wrong?"

"Edward, I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to do something nice for me. It's just…" I took his hand and pulled him behind me as I made my way back upstairs. "Here, it'll be easier if I can just show you."

Once we were again in my room, I let go of his hand and walked over to my overstuffed bookshelf. I pulled an extremely thick book down and opened it.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's a poetry anthology – the Romantics through the late 20th century."

"No wonder it looks like it weighs 20 pounds."

I had let the book fall open naturally. The things I kept inside made the page I wanted easy to find. I heard Edward gasp as he recognized the object on top. It was a pressed yellow rose.

"Oh my God, Bella is that…"

"The rose that Mike's mother gave me at the funeral?" I finished for him. "Yes."

"Christ! No wonder you freaked out when you saw those roses. I had forgotten, Bella. I'm sorry."

I wondered briefly how many times Edward and I were going to apologize to each other. It felt like we had numerous times already. But I guess it was inevitable that we would be walking on eggshells today.

"It's okay, Edward. Why would you remember something like that? The yellow roses didn't have the same impact for you as they did for me. I'm sorry," I said, apologizing yet again, "about letting the roses get to me. You went out of your way to bring me flowers, hoping that they might make this day just a little bit easier for me to bear, and I practically throw them back in your face. I certainly sucked all the joy out of the gift, didn't I? I really didn't mean to. It's just…yellow roses are one of those things I told you about that can set me off."

He nodded in understanding. We stood there in silence for a few moments. I was just getting ready to suggest returning downstairs when Edward's voice ended the quiet. "What else do you have there? Can I see?" he asked.

I looked down at the rest of the items I kept with the rose. As my eyes scanned each one of the artifacts that I'd tucked away and preserved for all this time, the thought occurred to me that this was something I wouldn't have imagined being able to share with anyone before now. Yet, in this moment, it felt…right to be sharing them with Edward.

I pulled out the clipping of Mike's obituary and handed it to him. I thought back to the day of the funeral, when I'd sat in this room staring at this very scrap of newsprint. I remembered how sad it had made me that Mike's life had been stripped of all meaning and purpose and reduced to a small handful of pointless facts. It still had the power to hurt me, seeing him dehumanized and condensed into vital statistics. But the pain had eased a bit with time. The sharp stab had mellowed to a duller, more manageable ache.

Edward didn't say anything, but I could tell he was reading it carefully. When he was finished, he looked up at me with a sad expression.

Next I handed him the…I wasn't exactly sure what its proper name was. Program? Keepsake? Whatever. It was the card that they had handed out at the funeral home.

I knew he'd seen this one before. I remembered seeing his copy clutched in his hand during the funeral. But he still took the time to read every word printed inside the folded card.

I knew what he was reading. I had opened the card and read the inside so many times that I was surprised it hadn't torn apart into two halves by now. On the right hand side the same stark facts that made up Mike's obituary were repeated. But on the left was printed a poem, "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" by Mary Elizabeth Frye. There was no way that Edward could miss the tearstains that now punctuated the poem.

His eyes finally met mine again, waiting for whatever came next.

I hesitated handing over the last scrap of paper. Everything else I'd shown him was about Mike. This wasn't. This was all about me. I was reluctant to share some of my darkest thoughts of my life with Edward.

"What's that you've got there, Bella?" He had seen my reticence, and he was prompting me, trying to draw me out.

"Well, you asked me if I'd been writing anything down. I told you the truth about that. I haven't been writing. But, sometimes…when I got really down…I would go looking for things that expressed how I was feeling. I found this at a website that listed the 100 best sad poems. I found this one, and it just said so much of what I'd been feeling. I printed it out and kept it."

"Will you read it to me," he asked.

I was sure the panic I felt at the idea of reading this poem aloud to him was clearly written on my face. "I don't know if I can."

"Please, just try. For me?"

"Alright, Edward. For you. It's called 'Silence, Emptiness, and Confusion.'" I took a shaky breath and then began to read.

"Silence builds an awful wreckage of a girl
It feeds on loneliness and creates a void
Gray shadows haunt and torment and torture
A teenager is stricken and destroyed

There is no sound of laughter or happiness here
The little one has thrown in the towel today
Somber, melancholy moods decay the soul
It is futile to hope and dream and pray

Emptiness builds a home in this woman
In this girl, this child where hollows have bred
A deepening sea of nowhereness consumes
And eats away at every connecting thread

Confusion feeds like a savage inside her,
Leaving nothing considered worthy remains
Destined to walk through life less ordinary
Alone, exiled, different and disdained."

I had made it through without breaking down entirely. But when I was finished, I had to wipe a few stray tears away. When I finally worked up enough courage to look at Edward again, I saw that a tear or two had escaped his eyes as well.

He was obliged to clear his throat before speaking to me again, "Wow, Bella. That was so powerful. I'm still finding it hard to wrap my brain around the fact that you've felt all that. I wish you could have talked to someone about how you felt sooner. I mean, I know I haven't always been your favorite person over the last year. But I wish you'd talked to Alice or Emmett or maybe your mom. I don't know…just someone."

"I couldn't, Edward. I just wasn't ready until now. And...I don't think I could share this stuff with anyone but you."

I had been so worried about giving Edward this glimpse into my soul, and in the end it had been almost too easy. I wondered how this had happened, how I had gotten to this place of comfort and ease with him so quickly, and realized that I didn't exactly know.

Edward swallowed hard and then nodded. He didn't ask me to explain why I felt that way. Did he understand? And if so, could he explain it to me?

"So, why do you have everything stored on that particular page of the book? Is it significant?" he asked.

"Umm, yes actually. I keep everything at the beginning of 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'"

"That long-ass, boring poem we had to read in Freshman English? Why for God's sake?"

"I ran across a snippet of it when I was reading my copy of Frankenstein again."

"A little light reading, Bella?" Edward asked wryly.

"I felt like reading about a fellow monster." I shrugged.

"Bella, do we need to have this conversation over again," he asked menacingly.

"No, Edward. Once was enough for today. Now do you want me to explain this or not?"

He gestured with his hand for me to continue.

"In the book, Victor Frankenstein refers to 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' when he's feeling guilt over making the Creature and fears his ghastly creation is stalking him. There was a paranoia about it that…well…sounded familiar. So, I looked up the entire poem in this book. There's a lot about it that I identify with."

"Like what?"

"The Mariner kills the Albatross, an innocent living thing who did nothing to him but bring good into his life. Just like I did to Mike. And the death of the Albatross brings with it a curse that kills the rest of the Mariner's shipmates. I can really understand the guilt he feels at being responsible for their deaths."

He looked like he wanted to argue with me so badly, but he managed to contain it. "Is there anything else you relate to?"

"The feeling of having the Albatross hung round my neck is familiar. I feel like not only Mike's death will haunt me forever, but there are also the rumors, having everyone know what I did."

"Bella, I've heard the gossip. In fact, I'm sure I've heard more than you have. None of the rumors have anything to do with what actually happened. Nobody has the slightest clue of what you actually did or didn't do."

"That doesn't matter, Edward. I know you haven't lived in this town as long as I have. But haven't you been here long enough to learn that nobody cares much about the truth if it gets in the way of a good story?"

He sighed. "How long until we can get the hell out of this town again?"

"A little over two years now," I replied.

"That long? It seems like an eternity. How do you think we'll manage to make it through?"

"I'm not always sure I will," I said quietly.

"Bella, you're not going to give up, do you hear me? We will get through the next two years together.

"And please don't forget that I'm not the only one who wants to help you through this. Alice and Rosalie will be there for you whenever you need them. And even though Emmett and Jasper will be at UDub this fall, they'll just be a phone call or an email away. Please don't shut us out and try to struggle through this alone."

"Okay, Edward. I'll try."

"Good. Now, do you think lunch is salvageable?"

"I'm sure we can reheat it, and it will be fine."

We walked back down to the kitchen together. Then, Edward insisted that I sit down while he warmed lunch back up for me. He told me that I could use some spoiling for a change. And I had to admit it was a very nice feeling, letting someone else take care of me.

I looked at the yellow roses in the center of the table. He had offered to remove them before we came back into the room, but I'd told him to leave them for now. It had really been the shock of seeing them there unexpectedly that had freaked me out so much before. I mean, I knew I didn't want to keep them, but I could tolerate their presence for a little while.

We didn't say much as we ate. I was thinking, and Edward seemed content to let me be. I think he knew I would share my thoughts with him whenever I was ready, and he was right.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"Would you mind… Could I…take the roses out to Mike's grave? I was planning to go and take flowers out there today anyway. But if you don't want me to, just say so. I know that you meant them as a gift for me. It's just that I don't feel like they belong to me. Yellow roses belong to Mike…at least in my fucked up brain."

"Bella, I have no problem with you taking the flowers to Mike's grave. But I have one condition."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Can I go with you?"

I smiled sadly. "I was hoping you would ask."

~*~

I gave Edward directions where to go once we were inside the cemetery. He parked the car at the side of the road cutting through the cemetery and waited for me to show him where we were going.

We walked slowly and quietly to Mike's grave, side by side. I didn't reach for Edward's hand, although I really wanted to. It didn't feel right though, visiting Mike while holding hands with Edward. So, I resisted the urge.

"This is it," I said as we stopped before a headstone. I placed the bouquet of yellow roses at the base of the stone. It stood a couple of feet tall and had Mike's name, date of birth, date of death, and a picture of him on it. I had been surprised the first time I'd seen that picture on the headstone. And it never failed to bring tears to my eyes, seeing Mike smiling up at me from his grave.

"You've been here before," Edward said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. Often. I like to come here."

"Do you do it to pay your respects to Mike? Or do you do it to torment yourself with guilt?"

I didn't answer. I just stared down into the blue-gray eyes that I would never again see in life.

"That's what I thought," Edward said angrily. "Bella, there's nothing wrong with you coming here for the right reasons. But to just come here to beat yourself up…it's not healthy."

I started to cry.

"God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry, Bella." He pulled me into a hug, and I stayed there.

I knew that I shouldn't. If it was wrong to hold hands with Edward in this place, it was infinitely worse to be held in his arms here. But I couldn't find the strength to push him away.

Deep down, I knew that Edward was right. I would never be able to heal if I kept up this sick cycle of destructive behavior. Acting like this obviously wasn't doing me any good. If I ever wanted to recover and move on, I needed to try something else. I just wasn't sure what that might be. And then, I suddenly had an idea.

"Edward, do you think I could have a moment alone?" I asked.

"Sure, Bella. I'll be over by the car if you need me." He kissed the top of my head before releasing me and walking away.

I rested my hand on the headstone and looked back down into Mike's face.

"Mike? I'm not sure if you can hear me. I mean, I'm not sure if I buy all that 'he's smiling down on us from heaven' stuff. Maybe when you die, you're just gone. Maybe there's just nothing left but this," I squatted down and traced his smile in the picture with one finger.

"But if you can hear me, you know how sorry I am for what happened. I know I've told you over and over again about the guilt and the responsibility I feel for you being here.

"And if you can hear me, there's something I'd like to ask you. I know that you can't really answer me back, but I kinda feel compelled to ask.

"If it's possible, I would like to ask you for…your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it, but I was hoping that maybe you'd give it to me anyway. Please, Mike. I need this if I'm ever going to have any hope of getting better.

"You don't have to decide right now, of course. But I hope…maybe someday…you'll find it in your heart to forgive me.

"Thanks for listening." I brought my finger to my lips, kissed it, and then placed my kiss to Mike's cheek.

As I turned to walk back to Edward, suddenly, inexplicably, I felt lighter – as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

And for just a moment, down in the depths of my soul, I truly believed that maybe Mike could answer me after all.

Here is a link to the poem, "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" by Mary Elizabeth Frye.

http://www(dot)worldprayers(dot)org/frameit(dot)cgi?/archive/prayers/celebrations/do_not_stand_at_my_grave(dot)html

Here is a link to "Silence, Emptiness, and Confusion by Bek.

http://www(dot)100-poems(dot)com/poems/sad/0985001(dot)htm

The snippet of "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" that Bella found in Frankenstein was posted before chapter 1 of On a Lonesome Road. The entire poem can be found here:

http://poetry(dot)eserver(dot)org/ancient-mariner(dot)html

I'd love to know your reactions to the chapter. It definitely wasn't an easy one to write.

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers and to Gemma, Delta, Ravyn and Nina for all your love and support.

Chapter 22 will be up next Tuesday, April 13th.

If you have any questions, comments, or just want to talk, you can find me at Twilighted on the On a Lonesome Road thread.