A/N
Ready to learn a bit more about Bella?
—-
"Hey, kid ... you want some pizza?"
Kicking the front door closed behind me, I narrow my eyes towards my father, wondering why the hell he's home.
"I'm okay. I'll grab something later."
Looking over my shoulder towards him, I can't hold my confusion, having not seen him for a week. He's never home.
Charlie works in a logging yard outside Port Angeles, and when he's not there, he's hanging out with his bachelor buddies Harry and Billy -often staying elsewhere for days on end. I don't care. We were never close—dad and I—and when Mom left, it hit him just as hard as it hit me. We both became different people that day.
He comes home on a Sunday and by Monday morning, he's gone again, leaving behind enough cash on the kitchen table to get me through the week.
Not many people know how absent a father he is. Whatever. It is what it is, and I'm fine on my own. At least I don't need to answer to anyone.
My room is cold. Void. Quickly, I close my widow, having left it open to allow the air to circulate before I left for school this morning.
The sun is setting, the sky a pretty ombré above the surrounding houses, though only one stands front and centre in my current view -the Cullens'.
I don't allow myself to look too closely, telling myself that I don't care. I can't lie to myself though -of course I care; I wouldn't be going out of my way to drive Edward to distraction if I truly didn't care. It's such a shame that although he sets my heart racing, he also fills me with dread.
I cant understand why he is the way he is.
I know I'm being a hypocrite, I'm hardly sunshine and rainbows; but I have a heart. Underneath my exterior, I long for a relationship, a faithful partner. I want the cuddles on the sofa, the nights spent at movie theatres and in restaurants; I want someone who holds my hand and kisses my temple, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I want someone who doesn't just ... leave me, ignore me. Someone who doesn't brush me aside when they get to know who I really am.
I've never told anyone that. So who's fault is it, really, that I don't have it?
Maybe it's loneliness, maybe it's something deeper; it could be something within me —in my bones— that eats at me from the inside. Destiny. Maybe I'm destined to live this double-life forever. Surrounded by people and admirers all day long, only to return home to ... nothing. It's nothingness, and it's dark -I'm empty. Hollow.
It's longing.
Under everything, I long for more —for someone— something outside of these four walls and this dilapidated house that suffocates me.
It's insecurity, and sometimes I think it will be the end of me.
—
A/N
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