Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Author's note: Soundtrack for this chapter (important):
Metamorphosis Five by Philip Glass.
Metamorphosis Two by Phillip Glass.
Both Youtubebable. Put 'em on a loop.
Bella awoke with a bitter taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with morning grogginess. It was still dark outside and the birds had yet to stir. She lay in bed a long time just concentrating on breathing, on keeping her heartbeat steady. If she didn't force herself to get up, she knew, she'd probably spend the whole day like this. But this was too important...and she would need the early start.
Outside her home, even though it was still dark she could tell it would be another dreary day in Forks. There was already a light mist that covered her clothes and hair by the time she reached Charlie's front door. Today of all days, she wouldn't dare take the risk of talking to him in person. Who knew what state of mind he'd be in? Keeping herself sane today would be difficult enough. No, the piece of paper in her hand went swiftly under the front door. Hopefully her brief note would be enough of a heads up for him if the school called.
With her bag tied securely to her shoulders, Bella looked to the stars for bearings, then sped as fast as she could towards Phoenix.
Charlie's eyes opened long before the alarm went off. He had his routine perfected down to the minute, so he waited patiently for his alarm to signal the start of the day. No variations today, not if he could help it. When it finally rang he rose from his bed and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. After he finished the necessities, he took out the shaving cream and razor he kept in the medicine cabinet and proceeded to take care of his face. It had been over a week since he was clean-shaven and he didn't want to look scruffy today. After trimming his mustache and rinsing his face, he stopped for a moment and stared back at the man in the mirror. The man looked so much older than his real age. Then again, he felt even older on the inside. When did his hair start graying? There was a permanent look of weariness in his eyes and in his whole demeanor. It had been there so long, he could hardly remember a time when he wasn't thoroughly exhausted.
He turned off the faucet and finished getting dressed. Like he did every morning for eight years he poured himself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, and downed both as fast as he could.
The piece of paper in the hall by the door stopped him in his tracks as he was making his way out. Carefully, he opened the note and read it:
Won't be in school today. Won't be reachable. -Bella
He made to crumple it up but stopped himself. Gently, he folded it back up and placed it in his pocket. Where would she go, he wondered. He thought of doing the same, of calling out and disappearing for a while, but just as quickly that thought was scrapped. Working would get him through this day, as it always had.
On his way to the cruiser he pulled out his phone and called the school. Bella Swan is home sick, he lied. Yes, yes, he continued with the nosy administrator, it's hard luck she had to fall ill on her birthday. Thank you, I'll pass that along.
The roof of the chapel provided an excellent hiding spot. There was a section off to the side that was surrounded by different elevations of the roof. The space was small but Bella could still fit in it along with her backpack. When she was finally settled, no one walking in the cemetery below could see her but, most importantly, she had an unobstructed view of her mother's grave site.
This was the third time she's come here on her birthday. By the time she turned 15, she had mustered enough to control to brave what she knew would be an ordeal. Every time though, she had stayed in this spot and had not ventured any closer. Too risky, she always believed. It was dangerous enough just coming here. One wrong move, one wrong feeling, and the whole cemetery could explode. That was the last thing she wanted especially because many of the victims that died along with her mother were buried here too.
She opened her bag and took out a sandwich. Running like that always made her ravenous and she hoped she stocked the bag sufficiently. Numb down, she thought to herself. Though her control was better than ever before, her emotional state on this day scared her enough to remain cautious. She would not budge from this spot.
For such a small town there sure were a lot of idiots, Charlie thought. You'd think living with their weather would make people better drivers, or at least mindful of the wet roads. But no, both people involved in this crash were locals who woke up on the wrong side of bed, he guessed. No fatalities thank goodness, but one of them got hit in the head pretty badly and Charlie needed to go with him to the hospital.
After relaying information to the receptionist behind the desk and filling out the necessary paperwork, he stood off to the side and waited for the doctors to finish their job with the patient. Who knew how long this could take? He had already alerted his deputies that he would be here awhile.
"Thank you, Jeannine. I'll just wait for him to finish the surgery."
Charlie looked up. Esme Cullen was walking from the receptionist's desk to the waiting area to the side. He gulped. She really does resemble Reneé. Same mouth, very similar hair, and something else too...maybe it was the way she spoke, or the way she looked at you. He wondered if Bella saw it too.
Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself walking in her direction and sitting down in the chair next to her.
Below, she could see a few early risers making their vigils. Not everyone who lost somebody that night came on the anniversary, but there were some that did and Bella recognized them all. The couple closest to her were visiting the graves of their children. Michael, Susan, and Clara were at home with the babysitter while their parents had gone out to dinner. The obituary said Susan and Clara were amateur rock stars...then again they were only 11 years old. Michael enjoyed basketball and his favorite subject in school was computer animation.
Bella watched their parents hold hands and try to comfort each other. But she knew, looking at their faces, that they wished they had perished that night too along with their children. Bella understood that. She could certainly relate.
A few rows down, another grave she recognized had a visitor. The plot contained the remains of the Goldbergs. John, Michelle, and their twins, David and Luke. The boys were seniors in high school. David wanted to be a lawyer. Luke wanted to be a sports newscaster. She wondered who the visitor might be. An uncle, perhaps? A family friend? It didn't really matter, but Bella pondered on it anyway...anything to avoid reliving the worst night of her life.
"Mrs. Cullen" he said. "How are you?"
"Chief!" Esme exclaimed. "It's wonderful to see you as always. And I'm doing well, thank you. I'm waiting for Carlisle to get out of surgery."
"I think I am too," he said. "Brought in a young man who needs a lookover from the doc. Car accident."
"I hope it's not too serious?" She asked, concerned.
"No, no. I don't think so," he said. It would have been an awkward silence if he didn't catch a glimpse of the open notebook in her hands.
"That's very good, if you don't mind me saying," Charlie said, indicating the sketch Esme was working on.
"Not at all, Charlie. And thank you! But...I didn't draw this. Bella did," she said.
He silently berated himself. What did he think would happen if he talked to her? Of course Bella's name would come up. He had to wonder if he subconsciously knew this and chose to approach her for that reason.
"...May I?" He asked, looking at the notebook.
She silently handed it to him. It looked like a remodeling project. An old house was getting a new exterior, and he marveled at the detailing Bella had put in. The transformation from old to new was...exquisite.
"I understand she takes after her mother in this respect," Esme said quietly.
Charlie nodded and carefully handed the drawing back to her.
"Yes," Charlie said slowly. "Renée was always artistic."
Esme put the notebook in her bag and the two of them sat quietly for a few minutes. Charlie couldn't guess at what she was thinking, but he felt like he was an open book to her.
"You know," she started. "I don't think I've ever told you how sorry I am for your loss."
"Th-thank you," said Charlie. He made to say something else but changed his mind.
"Charlie, I don't want to pry," she continued. "But you must know by now that Carlisle and I love Bella like a daughter..."
"Yes...I know that."
"Do you know she blames herself?" She asked. "Eight years is a long time for that kind of guilt."
He swallowed. But it's a justified guilt, he thought. Esme doesn't understand...Bella is guilty. The blame lies with her because she did commit that horrible crime.
"I can't begin to comprehend what happened of course," she carried on. "So please forgive my lack of understanding...but Charlie...she was a child. She's still a child in some ways. No child should have to carry the weight that she carries."
Charlie gripped the arms of his seat harder. And what about him? What about the weight of the secret he kept? What was he supposed to do? All those people...all those families...killed, murdered so senselessly. If it was only Renée...he thought, no, he believed his wife would want him to forgive her. But Renée wasn't the only one who died. What right did he have to forgive such a crime on behalf of people who would never know why their loved ones died? Bella may be a child...and he shuddered to think of the emotional and mental toll all this has taken on her...but that didn't change the past. That didn't bring those people back from the dead.
Esme interrupted his thoughts. "I'm glad I ran into you actually," she said as she pulled something from her bag. "Bella left this at our house. I was going to wait to see her to give it back but since you're here now..."
She handed him another drawing, on nicer paper this time and looking more complete. His heart nearly stopped. It was Renée...Renée looking like something out of a storybook. He'd always thought she was beautiful but this...this was something else. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened even more and he struggled to hold back a choked sob. Esme, thankfully, turned away to fiddle with something in her bag and Charlie took those seconds to compose himself before he spoke again.
"Thank you," he whispered.
There was too much confusion...and no way out of there. The news reports said the fire lasted through the night, but Bella didn't recall the passage of time. She only remembered the devastating few minutes before the explosion...and the endless horror after. And of course, she remembered the satisfaction...the first time the monster got its fill...my god, how she remembered that. Eight years after the fact, and the mere memory of that had her clenching her fists. Eight years after the fact, and Bella still licked her lips at the idea of unleashing that much power...of feeling that good again. It was her most powerful, most vivid memory.
She had drifted off. Behind her closed eyes she sensed the sun was higher in the sky. The noise from the roads had tripled as well. She felt a little irked with herself for falling asleep but wasn't really surprised. That run from Forks would've knocked her out a year ago. She was getting stronger. Opening her eyes, she stifled a yelp and nearly fell off the roof. Alice was standing right above her.
"Shit! Alice, what the hell?!"
"Did you really think we'd leave you to your own devices today?" Alice scoffed. "You know us better than that."
Bella took a second to allow her heart rate to come down. "I left you a message," she grumbled. "I explained where I'd be."
"Yes and that was very helpful," Alice replied, "seeing as I can't see you at all right now and wouldn't know how to find you otherwise."
"What do you want, Alice?" Bella sighed.
"To be there for my friend," she said quietly. "You shouldn't be alone today."
Bella laughed incredulously. "Wouldn't be the first time..."
To her dismay, Alice only cocked her head and squeezed herself into the impossibly small space next to her. Bella resigned herself to the unwanted company.
"Your mom is buried here?" Alice asked.
She really wasn't going to leave. Bella closed her eyes and sighed. "Her grave is here, but there's no body. She was too close..."
Alice remained silent, and so Bella was surprised at herself when she felt compelled to add, "a lot of the others are here too."
Neither spoke for several long minutes. Bella continued to watch the mourners trickling between the stones while Alice gazed into the distance, trying to no avail to see Bella's future...anything that might help her decipher her friend's wayward emotions.
"Why do you come here, Bella?" Alice asked.
Bella raised an eyebrow. "To pay my respects..."
Alice turned to face her and gave her a quizzical look. "That's not the only reason, is it?"
She sighed and looked at the woman with the flowers below. "I come to say I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Bella...you can't torture yourself forever like this."
"Why shouldn't I? I have to pay for what I did somehow..."
"It wasn't your fault," Alice whispered.
"Don't say that!" Bella snarled. "Don't tell me it wasn't my fault. It was. I killed those people. I killed my mother. No one else can take that blame but me!"
"You didn't choose to kill anyone! You didn't set out to! You had no control! From what I've seen over the summer and the way you describe it, you weren't even conscious of what was happening! I'll bet my head you don't remember the actual fire!" Alice yelled.
Bella wanted to punch something. Alice was right about not remembering...but that didn't lessen her guilt.
"That woman," Bella pointed to the woman who had been standing in front of the grave for the last 10 minutes. "Her sister's dead because of me. Her sister and her girlfriend, and their baby girl. She was three years old. That man over there...his son was home from the Peace Corps. Know what he was doing? He was helping a village in Tonga build an irrigation system for their family farms. Those graves over there? Rachel and Jonathan Kinner. She was a physicist at the university. He taught 1st graders in the same school as my mom. Carly Nestrom. Kate Walsh. Damien Stanley. Mika Peters. David Park. Jessica Donaldson. Do you want know how many toddlers died? How many kindergarteners? How many orphans there are because of me?!"
She was breathing hard, her face and her body contorted in pain. Sometime during her tirade, Alice had put her arms around her. Bella was too tired to fight her off, so she took the shoulder that was offered and laid down her head, letting a few tears fall but not the sobs she wanted desperately to release.
"Oh, Bells," she heard Alice whisper. "How can your dad forgive you if you won't forgive yourself?"
Charlie was right to hate her. He saw the truth of her existence the way the Cullens never had and never would. Three years of not killing anybody does not clean her hands of all the blood.
"Do you think I'm a monster?" Alice asked. "Do you think Rosalie is?"
Bella shook her head.
"We're no different from you, Bella," she continued. Bella started to protest but Alice cut her off. "It's not the number of deaths...the way we are...none of us asked for it. Our very DNA tells us we must kill. Something has to die for us to survive. The bloodlust...I can't begin to describe to you what that's like. But...I think you more than anyone can guess, can understand. We've all fought so hard to overcome it. There were casualties. Did we want to cause those deaths? Of course not. Do we feel remorse and wish a thousand times that those people could've been spared? Of course we do. For that, we're not monsters. You, Bella...you've fought this thing tooth and nail for half your life! You did everything in your power to avoid bloodshed. You were a nine-year-old child and yet you consciously chose to sever contact with humanity so you wouldn't harm others! Bella, that's not the behavior of a monster. You deserve forgiveness. You've earned it. If you can't see that, then Rosalie and Esme and I, and the rest of our family is truly damned despite all our efforts. I refuse to believe that!"
Bella wanted so badly to believe her. Part of her...the part of her that loved to fly and kiss Rosalie and play the piano...did believe. But another part...the part that enjoyed watching things burn, the part that she kept hidden from everyone...that part made her think twice. There was something there...something sinister that lurked in the darkness of her psyche. That thing...how can there be salvation for it?
Not another word was spoken on that rooftop. Bella stayed in Alice's arms though-it was a comfort she had never allowed herself before, and it helped get her through the day. When the sun started to set, Alice guided her to the rented car and to the airport. Bella was grateful for Alice's planning. There was no way she could attempt to run back again so soon.
After Bella assured her friend she'd be in school tomorrow, she walked inside her shed, ready to collapse in her bed. Something on the table caught her eye though.
It was a birthday card from Charlie. She opened it with trembling hands. There was no note, nor even a cheesy printed message...but there was something taped inside.
Charlie had given her a key to the house.
Author's note: Battlestar Galactica fans (or other musical people) might spot a tiny musical hint in the writing. I'll say no more.
Holy crap that was draining. I'm pooped. Please reward me with a review. Pretty please? Some people write only for the pleasure of writing...I salute those people. I like the act of it too, but I do it mostly because if I don't get this story out of my head my brain will explode...and also because it means a lot to me when I learn that my writing is affecting others. I can't tell you how wonderful it feels when one of you (and some of you have) tells me that you've gotten past your initial revulsion to the triad relationships. Changing someone's mind about a taboo topic like that...that's an incredibly powerful and wonderful feeling for a writer. So please, talk to me. Doesn't have to be heartfelt...but I am pouring my heart and soul into this. The least you can do is check in :)
Love ya!