Chapter 5 – Gone

BPOV

The walls are yelling at me, squeezing me. Angry faded yellow and beige close in so tightly I can't breathe. The house is silent except for their screams.

I'm sorry, I sob. I tried so hard. Please.

But it's not enough. They move quicker now, trapping me between them. I begin to thrash, move my arms to cover my face. The guilt grips me and pulls me under. I can't tell if I'm awake or asleep.

Down I sink, lower and lower under the surface.

I wake up drenched, again. Soaked through my night shirt. Wet strands of dark hair stuck to my forehead and neck.

I curl up to hug my knees, reeling in the aftermath of that.

Guilt. Regret.

If only I had made her go to the doctor's sooner. Why had she been so stubborn?

There was no use in this, I know that. It's been six months. It's over now, there's nothing more to do. She's dead. I failed her.

Tiredness overwhelms me as my wet eyes swelled shut. Sleep, he whispers, it's over now.

A strong gentle hand reaches out to me, and I grasp it like a lifeline.

My alarm feels like it's calling me from the afterlife. I come-to, slowly, remembering nothing from the past few hours but the soft embrace of exhaustion and the smell of cedar. Had I left my window open?

Rolling over in bed, I think that maybe when I make the trip to town for warmer clothes I should also pick up some melatonin. How many milligrams does it take to fight off screaming walls or pounding waterfalls?

Downstairs, Charlie's left a note to say he's out fishing. Saturday morning ritual, I assume. I consider the lists I wrote last night before bed that had, at the time, filled me with a sense of optimism for the weekend. I was going to explore Forks. I wanted to see where I lived. I wanted to know this town's contours, its history. I make myself some coffee and oatmeal while I open google maps. I check topographies, routes, trails, points of interest. I try to remember where we used to go when I was here as a kid. Some river, somewhere? Houses near a rough beach? So many forests.

So on my to-do list from last night was: See town. Clean house.

Thinking of my room with a shudder for the memories it holds of dark nights and closing walls, I decide it might be easiest to start outside of the house.

Yes, this might be the distraction I need today.

I added to the list: Remove shit. Remove ghosts.

I'd officially been here a week. Survived five days of being the shiny new girl in a small-town high school. Five days of navigating the complicated terrain of lifelong friendships and power dynamics. Five restless nights where I succumb to uncontrollable dreams. Sometimes he's there, sometimes he isn't. I can't tell which ones are worse.

It had also been five nights of loneliness as Charlie made himself scarce. I made dinner a few nights but turns out he spends a lot of him time at work, on duty, or with friends. I guess being a sad Dad bachelor for 15 years will do that to a man, and even your long-lost daughter returning to town isn't reason enough to try to change. The time we did spend together was nice. He was quiet and curious about how I was settling in; he asked often to tell him if I needed anything. I wasn't so used to this.

And I'd never spent so much time alone, never had so much time to myself in the evenings with no responsibility or guilt or obligation weighing me down. I didn't really know what to do with myself.

This time last year I was doing homework in the car between taking my mom to doctor's appointments, picking up prescriptions or groceries or doing laundry. I was cleaning the house while listening to audiobooks for school assignments. There wasn't a moment that my mind wasn't occupied with worry or stress or lists.

The silence of Charlie's house on a Wednesday night was terrifying. Being inside my mind with all that silence was almost too much to bear. The stillness of it was suffocating. I'd seen mom in almost every room now. Just glimpses as I passed by doorways, her shadows flickering under lamps. I think one night I called out for her in my sleep – an old habit. I woke up embarrassed and blue.

Diving into homework was one way out. I got so far ahead that I had to make myself stop. It made the future seem so bleak and predictable. I could already imagine the lessons they'd teach us for Shakespeare, cell diffusion, and trigonometry. Whatever. More time for my own studies, I guess.

And more time to get to know my new peers. I'd quickly learned to be nice to Lauren or she'd bite. To ignore Mike, let Jessica talk as much as she wanted, listen to Angela when she spoke, make sure Eric doesn't feel ignored, laugh at Tyler's jokes. It sometimes felt overwhelming, all these new people to know and things to learn about them. All I really wanted to know was why I hadn't seen Edward since our biology class together on Tuesday. Why his blonde sister was giving me death stares whenever I looked over at their lunch table. What could his absences possibly have to do with me?

What was it about him? I was, in a way, grateful for these distractions. Time spent thinking about dream Edward Cullen meant less time thinking about anything else. I wanted to know why I felt connected to him. Why he hated me. Why he'd run away. I couldn't wrap my head around the distinctions between my dreams of him and the version I saw in biology. Something was needling the back of my mind, something unknown but knowable. Every time I thought about for any extended period of time, my brain turned to mush. Just the beating sound of water drowning out my thoughts.

I drafted a quick loop to the shore and back with my maps so I wouldn't get lost and hopped into the cab of the truck. For January in the pacific north west, it was surprisingly calm today. The fog not so dense. Though not a ray of sun in sight.

Driving down the main street to leave to town, I glanced out the window at the sad, tattered buildings. So low to the ground, with faded, dated signs. The hills of forest surrounding town might be the only highlight. By my count, there are three restaurants, a bowling lane, a hair salon, Newton's Outfitters, a Thriftway, and other nearly nameless square buildings. Everything here seems to unchanged, so unmoving. No need for signs because everyone already knows where to go. Guess I wasn't missing out on much. I'd definitely have to go further for clothes. Maybe even ask the girls at school where they shopped.

Before I knew it, I was surrounded by forest on either side. As I drove towards La Push, I felt an increasing sense of calm, of rightness. This is exactly where I was supposed to be.

I wove my truck through the curving roads up to the top of a cliff, and when I got out I could hear the crash of waves far below me. I walked through dense woods, feeling an eerie sense of déjà vu. I glanced up at the magnificent height of the hemlocks and cedars and firs. The fresh air heightened my senses, and I felt a gust catch my opened jacket, chilling me.

I finally got to a clearance and my breath caught.

So this was the ocean.

Stunning in its magnitude and power and beauty. I sat down on a log and looked below to the beachy shores, full of driftwood and miles of sand.

How is this place real?

Hours past as I gazed out, with a soft breeze ruffling my hair and chilling my nose. I tucked my hands into my pocket, occasionally closing my eyes to focus on the sounds of nature around me.

Leaves rustling, small animals scurrying. Birds calling overhead. And the sea. The relentless promise of wave after wave.

I felt my whole body relax, as if in a trance.

It wasn't until I felt my phone buzz in my pocket that I was pulled out.

Text from an unknown number, which wasn't uncommon. A bunch of friends from school had it, so surely it was passed around.

I opened it up.

Unknown
you don't know me yet, but you will - sorry if that sounds ominous. will you meet me today? we need to talk. xo alice

I read it over a few times to make sure what I was seeing was real. I closed my phone and looked out over the water again. I opened it back up to read once more.

Alice Cullen?

EPOV

My ears were still ringing, my body pulsing with need. How many days had it been now? How did she still have this power over me? I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth.

And I was driving in circles. I kept rationalizing myself in and out of plans. I must have been driving poor Alice insane. I hope for her sake she was leaving it alone.

I knew what was at stake: our family's peace, Carlisle's profession, Esme's happiness. This town had suited them so well over the past year. I couldn't take that away from any of them. I couldn't be weak, like I was before.

I had chosen this path for a reason. I saw the sense in Carlisle's madness. There was a beauty in it. To live like humans kept us true, it kept us together. It was impossible yet necessary. And here I was, on the brink of destroying everything.

Half of me didn't believe any of this had happened. Maybe vampire brains actually do start to decay after a certain amount of time. It's human tissues after all; fallible, fleshy, prone to rot. Maybe we'd been overestimating venom all along.

Because there's no way the ache I felt for one girl's blood could have been that strong, that debilitating. I'd never felt that way before, ever. In almost a century of being in this state, I'd never felt so affected. It was almost human-like.

I'd turned the car around five times, convincing myself that I was overreacting. I was strong now, I had unparalleled restraint. I had studied medicine! Human blood wasn't supposed to call to me the way it did before, I had desensitized myself so fastidiously over the past several decades. I was stronger now.

But this girl, she made me weak. She made me lose myself. So I kept going. I didn't know where, I just needed to be away. To be gone.

My mind kept taking me back to brown hair and deeper eyes. There was no way she was just a girl.

No, this had to be something more. And that curiosity began to eat away at any logic I tried to throw at it.

Who is Isabella Swan?

AN: Thank you all so much for reading and leaving reviews! I promise updates will come more frequently now. xo.