Good morning! This is a little early but its a rough week so I'm jumping the gun. Oh well. Thanks to my wonderful team behind AaTH-LizziePaige for the banner, Monica for beta'ing, and Mandy, Steph, and Erin for pre-reading!
Chapter 1
We're not in Wonderland anymore.
Not that I'm sure we ever were… but we sure as hell were not now. Wonderland was supposed to be paradise, a nirvana of colorful bliss. I don't suppose I'll ever make it there.
That hurt almost as much as the accident did.
It was blistering to think about—good practice though I suppose for the fiery pit of hell I'll surely be burning in for the rest of eternity—that I'd never see her again.
My beautiful sister, my soulmate.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt as bad if I could remember what happened behind the wheel that night, but I couldn't and I never would. I wasn't certain of anything, besides the pain—the tear in my heart, the cuts on my skin.
They told me my sister went quick. I shouldn't suffer because she didn't suffer.
Did they want me to think it was her fault I was still here?
Still living, still breathing.
I looked in the mirror, waiting for the fog to disappear from the large mirror. The steam from the shower lingered in the room like a ghost.
I impatiently dragged my hand over the glass, the condensation coating me as I shook it out. I focused my view on my wet fingers. My fingernails were chipped, uneven.
I was going to have to fix that.
Annabella would have never been caught dead with her fingernails chipped.
I sucked in a breath before moving my eyes to my face, to her face.
That was the bitch about being an identical twin—no matter where you went, they were always there with you. I hated it all: my brown eyes, my long brown hair, and how it clung to my exposed collarbone. I'd long given up on trying to maintain my messy black dyed bob in effort to carry out this plan. This wasn't my look, this was her look. Every time I looked in the fucking mirror, it was a reminder.
I might as well write it in big black ink on my forehead.
Bella Swan: Killer
And killers don't belong in Wonderland, in paradise.
That much I was certain of.
"Isabella! Are you almost ready to go? MIT doesn't wait for just anyone!" My mother called from down the stairs. The wood made her voice echo.
"Give me a few minutes, Mom. I just got out of the shower." I called back, my voice hoarse. I sighed, turning my attention back to the mirror.
MIT.
That had been a dream. My mother had two picture perfect daughters—a science wiz and a math geek—with futures way bigger than the gritty Pennsylvania town we hailed from, just north of Scranton. Our lives were bound to be more fruitful of The Office references and northerner humor.
Downstairs in the kitchen, there was still a photograph stuck to the refrigerator like a third-grade painting. Annabella and I, side by side with cheeky grins, holding up our acceptance letters. Mine to Massachusetts Institute of Technology, hers to Harvard University. With those small envelopes, they granted us a future; a ticket out.
We had planned our great escape, but now Annabella was stuck here.
"Remember to take your medicine!" Mom called.
Though, I guess not every part of her.
I huffed, looking at the cocktail of medication in my daily pill canister. The thin bracelet on my wrist jingled against the countertop. I dumped the pills into my hand before throwing them back like a good ole boy at the bar down the street. My throat burned in protest as I downed them without water as a chaser. I stared back at the head of the scar on my chest.
Identical twins were a perfect match. There was almost no chance of rejection. No matter how much I wished for it.
And so far, in the year and half since the accident, luck has been on whoever's side. I was still here with my sister's heart beating in my chest like it was my own. I still had a bright future in front of me, despite such a dark turn. Nobody knew what to think of the accident, and my lack of memory didn't let me confirm or deny details for anyone. Did I have alcohol in my system? Molly? Pills? Anything? Or did I simply fall asleep or swerve to miss a wild animal that ran out into the road? The accident made national headlines and our story, twins forever attached at the heart, was America's sob story for a week before we faded into the background like yesterday's news.
I bent to grab a crimson t-shirt that was discarded on the toilet and pulled it over my undergarments. I reached behind me to grab the charcoal MIT hoodie that was hanging on the doorknob.
I looked at myself in the mirror again. I ran a thin brush through my wet hair, braiding it back gently with a small rubber band on my wrist.
"Bella! Let's go! We're going to hit the heavy traffic!" My mom called, getting anxious.
I could hear it spilling into her voice. I rolled my eyes as I ripped open the bathroom door, feeling the cool breeze from the bedroom hit my face. Almost forgetting, I turned back around to grab the canister of pills, shoving it into my pocket.
Moving to my bed, I grabbed the discarded orange backpack and ripped the zipper down the side. The canister got dropped in with little care, much more interested in the manilla envelope already tucked neatly into the large pocket. I grabbed it, letting the bag drop back onto the bed in a slump. I had to make sure one more time.
I undid the latch and turned over the envelope, letting the cards and documents slide out into a small pile on the backpack. There was a thick stack of bills rolled tightly, fasted by a rubber band that matched the one holding my braid. There were multiple cards, IDs, a debit card, a credit card, transcripts, old essays, letters of recommendation, and photographs. I dug through it with my fingers, avoiding the fiery glare of the girl on the cards.
It was almost as bad as the mirror.
Hearing a creak on the stairs, I panicked, tossing everything back to the envelope, latching it as I went. I couldn't afford to lose anything. I shoved it into the backpack, zipping the bag up as my mother strode into the room without knocking.
"Bella? We have to go," she said, looking me over. I sat on the bed, bending to reach for my sneakers.
"Leggings and a hoodie? You sure want to make an impression on the students at MIT, don't you?" Mom asked, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the backpack off the bed, slinging it over her shoulder, waiting for a satisfying shake of the pill canister, "Got your pills?"
"Yes, they're in there. Can't you hear them? They're loud enough," I said grimly, focusing on the laces of my converse.
"Oh, hush," she said, smiling down at me as I looked up. Her blue eyes were wide, getting glassier by the second.
"Oh, come on, don't cry," I said, standing up.
"I'm allowed to cry! It's a big day! I get to drop... you off at college! You even braided your hair… just like..." She said, moving her head to cut off her sentence while reaching up to wipe a stray tear. She tried to cover it, but I caught her slip; her hesitation. How much she'd give to say 'dropping you girls off' at college.
"Yeah… uh… it's easier to manage. I'm still getting used to the longer hair. It helps… hide the scar," I said, hesitantly.
"Well... it looks nice, Bell. We're so proud of you," Mom said, another tear rolling.
"Lets just go… before Charlie gets back. I'm not sure I could handle Dad's tears," I said, moving towards the door. The shake of the pills echoed in the hall as my mom followed me down the stairs.
"Oh damn, the elevator is broken. Bella, are you sure you don't want to live in a dorm? I've heard they're quite nice…" Mom said, frowning at the bright yellow caution sign taped over the only elevator in the building. The four-hour drive had gone by faster than I thought it would.
My mother was quiet on the road and I couldn't help but wonder if she was excited about it too.
To get away from everything, to get away from me.
"Mom, it's only four flights of stairs. I don't even have that much stuff. They furnish the apartment, remember? Perks of student housing." I argued, hoping the confidence in my voice was as strong as it was in my head. At least, I hoped it was a perk of student housing.
"Fine, but let me get the heavy stuff. I can handle two suitcases…" She said, eying the stairs with apprehension. She lugged the large suitcases toward the stairs, dragging them each by the handles. Renee frowned, wondering how she was going to manage this.
"Mom, I can get it." I repeated.
"Don't be silly, Isabella. Give me your key. You stay here with this one and I'll take this one up, then we can go up together," she said, gesturing to the larger suitcase, before opening her palm for the key.
I rolled my eyes while dropping the silver key into her hand. She smiled before turning to the large suitcase and the stairs. I leaned against the railing, waiting.
Suddenly, the elevator doors opened with a loud ding. I furrowed my brow in disgust as a couple came strolling out of the sliding doors. A tall, statuesque woman with wild red hair tied back lazily with a bright green scrunchy walked with a bounce in her step, clearly proud of whatever had just occurred between the two.
I held back my puke as I moved my eyes to the man behind her and fought to not take a sharp intake of breath. He was easily over six foot tall as he towered over the woman. His copper-colored hair was messy, as if he'd run his fingers through it… or maybe someone else's fingers. His eyes were wide and a brilliant color green. He wasn't exactly my type—more the type of guy Annabella would have gone for.
He smirked in the girl's direction as he dragged a dark green beanie over his hair, probably to hide the sex hair.
Too late, buddy.
The girl whispered something, followed by her cackle of a laugh. It had to be somewhat funny or stupid because the guy grinned again as he turned back toward the obnoxious caution sign taped to the door. He ripped it off, folding it gently and tucking into the pocket of his dark jeans.
I mentally scoffed in disgust.
Both pairs of eyes shot to me and I glanced away.
Okay, not mentally.
"I'll see you later, Ed." the woman said, running her long fingernails over the guy's dark sweater as she turned to leave.
I felt her balmy glare on me as she brushed by, accidentally nudging my suitcase as she passed. I turned back to look at the guy, hoping to have missed him walking off in the other direction.
"Sorry… uh… elevator's fixed," 'Ed' said, reaching a lean-sculpted arm to brush the back of his head. Stains of red flushed across his cheeks.
"Are you seriously blushing? After that?" I asked, not able to contain my shock.
"It's… not an everyday thing," he said, looking down at the tiled floor.
"Not an every—no offense, Ed, but you have a broken elevator sign in your pocket," I retorted, emphasizing his nickname the redhead gave him.
"It's not actually broken. And… I read online that it… you know what, never mind. And my name is Edward… not Ed," the guy said. He looked up at me, embarrassment still evident in his features. It was very clear he didn't expect anyone new coming into the building today.
Maybe students didn't actually live here. It was the weekend before the spring semester started.
Edward stepped aside, motioning for me to step inside the elevator.
"What are you waiting for?" He asked, furrowing his brow in confusion as to why I wasn't grabbing my bag and slipping past him for a ride on the sex-express.
"You must still be in the Promise Land if you think I'm getting in that elevator after that," I said, curling my features in disgust.
He rolled his eyes, moving closer to me before brushing past me completely. He started on the first step, but turned.
"Victoria is… very adventurous. Forget it. What floor are you heading to?"
"Four?" I answered, confused.
"The least I can do is help you up the stairs, then." He offered, reaching forward to grab my suitcase.
"Are you sure you have enough stamina for that?" I asked, watching in disbelief as he lifted the suitcase with one hand and began taking the stairs two at a time.
"What number are you?" Edward asked, still lugging the suitcase behind him as we rounded on the last set of steps.
"Uh… 4-105," I said, looking down at the torn piece of paper in my pocket. "My mother should be up there."
He humphed in what I assumed was confirmation. We came to the top of the stairs and he moved to open the door to the hallway, holding it open for me to pass through. I stalked past him, not wanting to meet his eyes as I made my way through it.
"Bella! Now I told you to stay put! You know what kind of strain a trek like that can do to—Oh, hello," Mom said, coming out of a door halfway down the hallway.
I tossed a glance over my shoulder to see Edward hot on my heels with my suitcase held firmly in his hand.
Damn, lucky Victoria, I guess.
"Bella! I leave you alone for two minutes and you find someone to do your heavy lifting." My mom joked. "Thank you…" she batted her eyelashes, fishing for a response.
"Edward." He offered, setting the suitcase down and rolling it the rest of the way.
"Well, Edward. I hope my girl didn't inconvenience you too much," Renee said, taking the suitcase from him.
"Not at all. I saw her waiting as I was… coming in. I'm just across the hall in 4-106." Edward replied, adjusting his hat nervously.
"How wonderful! A courteous neighbor! And is that a Harvard hat? How about that Bella!" My mother laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
I smiled wryly, "Courteous indeed."
Edward didn't flinch at my dig. So, sex-in-the-elevator-blushing-tomato-guy was my neighbor. I supposed it could be worse.
"Do you guys need help with anything else?"
"No! I think we've got it! If I'm not mistaken, I think I heard the elevator ding. We should be good for the rest of her stuff." Renee smiled sweetly.
"Cool. Nice to meet you." Edward said, smirking again before turning to open his own apartment door and disappearing inside.
"Bella, this complex has got to be crawling with kids from Harvard and MIT. We're so close to both campuses. It makes me so sad… your sister would have loved it here. I can see it—you guys would have had your own apartment, like this one. Living in the best of both worlds so you wouldn't have to be apart." My mom smiled, taking in the new apartment. It was a modest one-bedroom, but plenty for a single student. She sobbed, sniffing back her tears as she raised a hand to wipe her face.
"She'd be proud of you, Bells."
"I know," I said, pained.
I couldn't think about it, think about her. Of course, she'd love it here. She talked about nothing except our future college shenanigans—boys, all nighters at the library, deciding whether to rush a sorority. I wondered what Annabella would have been like—what would her reaction be to Edward and Victoria in the elevator? Would she have brushed that situation off or be snarky? Or would she reinvent herself—make it her goal to be his next notch?
I was silent, listening to the beat of my heart. It would be silly, wouldn't it, to think what if she left behind some code?
Two beats for yes, one for no.
"New neighbor seems nice enough." Renee interrupted, winking at me as she moved my suitcases and other belongings around to clear a pathway so she could walk.
"Yeah… he does."
"Nice to know you'll have someone like that nearby."
Mom drove back shortly after she helped me get settled into the apartment. It was a long ride, but she couldn't get out of work the next day. My parents weren't open about it, but I knew what the accident and expenses did to them. My father's mannerisms and the growing pile of envelopes on his desk didn't fool me, despite his attempts to negate any mention of it. I shook the thoughts out of my head, turning back to what was in front of me.
The real task here.
It'd been my dream to come to MIT, to be an engineer.
I dreamed about going to space as a child. Maybe that was Wonderland—amongst the stars and the moon.
But it wasn't my turn anymore. I didn't get to dream. I didn't get to live.
I pulled the envelope out of my backpack, tossing it aside as I sat on the bed. I opened my wallet, pulling my important cards out of their slots—photo ID, debit card, Medical Alert Card. I sighed, staring at the card. Clearly, I'm an idiot since that's the one thing I didn't get. In order to get these things made you need all kinda proof.
I stared at the thin bracelet on my wrist, twisting it so the small metal plate in the center was staring up at me.
Isabella Swan
DOB: 9/4/1990
Heart Transplant (July 2008).
See Wallet Card
I unclasped the bracelet, reading over it one more time before dropping it into the envelope. My wrist felt bare; exposed to the world.
It was alright; I knew my limits.
I decided to keep the small Medical Alert Card tucked in the lowest pocket of my wallet. I would worry Annabella sick if she knew what exactly I was doing.
But Annabella wasn't here.
I dropped the rest of my important cards into the envelope, sealing it.
Sealing Isabella Swan away.
I placed the new ID, debit card, and other important cards and information into my wallet.
I tore my MIT hoodie off, discarding it in a corner of my new bedroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, taking in the crimson shirt I kept hidden until now. I didn't notice the scar on my face, the bags under my eyes because I was too busy reading the shirt.
Harvard University, Class of 2014.
I have a Facebook group if you wanna connect! The group is called Mariescullen Fan Fiction and Graphics.
See you soon,
Sarah