Usual disclaimer applies.
March, 2012
~50~
And I want to bitch slap her. Maybe kick her in the shins.
Badly.
"You see Bella, walking by the guest bedroom and witnessing Edward Cullen taking off your panties? Yeah, not something I want to think about. I mean, could you at least have shut the door…"
But I'm already walking away.
I don't hear the rest.
~SW~
Climbing into my truck, I am hit with a powerful wave of déjà vu.
I have felt like this before. Once.
Numb.
Cold.
Robotic.
It's been six months since the last time, but in those six months, I forgot what it was like.
I had thought I would never feel so out of control again, so out-of-body.
I guess the strength that I have developed since then has been for naught because it sure doesn't help me now.
I had really hoped I would never feel like this again.
Carrying my shoes in one hand, I try not to pay attention to the right shoulder strap of my dress that is broken, hanging limply over my chest. I have yet to look in a mirror, but I can picture my face. Mascara running and clumping underneath my eyes, my hair a knotty, curly mess. I walk slowly, mindful of the aches and tenderness my body is exhibiting, of the pain in my head that throbs with every heartbeat.
I move through Jessica's house, thankful that I don't see anyone. Beer cans and plastic cups litter every surface, and the sickeningly sweet odor of alcohol permeates the air. Thankfully, it's blissfully quiet, the only sounds being the pleasant chirps of birds from the trees outside.
All thought of what has occurred the night before is gone from my mind. My only focus now is to find my way to my truck, and get home. It's strange, really. Because even those basic thoughts are leaving me, I feel like I am leaving me, like my body is doing everything on its own. This is a good thing because I do not want to be in my head or my body right now.
And as I find my way to the truck and step inside, turning the engine over and carefully pulling out onto the quiet street, I really am numb.
No longer here.
Instead of finding myself in front of my apartment building, where I think I intended on going after leaving Jessica standing in the parking lot, I am surprised to see that I have driven to a different destination.
I stare up at the colossal house, painted a pristine white to contrast the deep green of the trees that surround it.
It's really quite beautiful.
My eyes shift to the rear-view mirror and the large gate behind me.
Did I open it myself?
Did I use the intercom system to have the gate open for me?
Was it already open?
I don't remember.
But as I once again stare at the glass front door, and the numbness starts to ebb, my warring emotions begin to make themselves known.
Pain.
Betrayal.
Anger.
Oh, yes. Overwhelming anger.
Harnessing these emotions and gathering all of my strength, I exit my truck.
A/N: Hang on tight everyone, it's going to be a bumpy ride...
