I dropped the stack of books by Rosalie's feet, kicking up a bit of a dust cloud. "These are all the books I could carry. There's a ton more at the library but I can't bring them all up myself. Besides, the lady's starting to give me the stink eye. I swear she's one second away from banning me entirely." I flopped down next to Rosalie.
It had been a month since we'd first met, and it had become a common occurrence for me to come here every other evening and help Rosalie out. We were doing research on zombies and how to cure them. So far, nothing useful had cropped up in the dozens of books I had loaned out from the library and I could tell Rosalie was growing frustrated.
She hummed as she opened up a book I'd brought, chewing on her bottom lip. I found the action adorable, and admired the slope of her neck, the way long lashes fluttered against her cheeks.
Despite being a zombie, she still looked so beautiful. How was that possible?
I must have been staring a long time at her because she looked up. "What?" she asked.
"Dead looks good on you," I told her without any shame.
Her lips thinned.
"It's a compliment."
She shuffled her feet and crossed her legs, bowing her head over the book in a bid to ignore me. I kept my back to the wall. Despite my thick hoodie, the cold of the stone leeched through and made me shiver lightly. "We should redecorate this place," I said, looking over the crypt. "I have some old stuff at home I don't need. And, it's kinda dark. I can bring you some flashlights?"
"The dark doesn't bother me," she said.
"It can't be good reading in the dark all those books."
"It doesn't bother me," she repeated again. She was being irritable today. I wondered why.
"You alright?" I asked her, sliding over so I could get a good look at her. She froze up as I drew near, holding herself so still she almost seemed to be stone. Her hands turned white knuckled on the book.
"Rosalie?"
"You really shouldn't be sitting next to me so closely. Neither should you be coming here to visit me and then staying over!" she said, barely moving her lips.
I moved back and she breathed out in relief. "Are you hungry?" I asked her.
A snarl came out of her mouth unbidden. She clamped a hand to her mouth, ashamed. "Don't...don't remind me."
"Haven't you been eating?"
She shook her head. "I can almost last a whole month when consuming a whole body. But I hate eating them, so I try to hold back as long as I can before I have to feed again."
"So you starve yourself?"
She nodded her head tightly, as if afraid that too much motion would set her off. I scrambled to my feet, heart racing in my chest. I didn't want her to starve, but I also didn't want her to eat me. How could I help her?
"What kind of...food works best for you?"
She snorted. "What? Thinking of going grave robbing for me?"
"No. But I might be able to help."
"How?" She looked up at me, keeping her eyes glued to my face. I could tell they wanted to wander, but she held firm.
"You can't go into town because people will recognize you, but I can go without problem. I'll be back tomorrow. Can you hold on til then?"
She nodded her head.
"Good."
After school I went to the local butcher shop and purchased several fresh cuts of meat, so fresh they were bloody. I also asked for some pig brains and got a few ounces of it. The butcher looked at me oddly for my purchases. With the bags under my eyes as dark as mascara, and my all black outfits with chains and unholy insignia, he probably thought I was trying to summon something. But I was the chief's daughter. He knew better than to say anything, or tell me no.
I then waited until evening and went up to the graveyard, stopping in front of her crypt.
"Rosalie, open the door. I have a meal for you."
Blood and fat were dripping from the bag onto the grass next to me. There was the rustle of movement from inside and then the door opened a bit, enough so I could either squeeze through or throw the food in. Through the narrow slit I could make out Rosalie had receded into the back. She was keeping her distance from me. I tossed the bag of meat inside.
She almost threw herself on top of the meat, tearing into it. Blood splattered everywhere as she let out a delighted moan. "Fresh...meat..." she groaned out and ate hastily, making a mess. She ate everything up, not leaving a single scrape behind.
When she was finished, she stayed remaining on her knees, panting with the last vestiges of the hunger frenzy she had been in. I took this time to step into the room, mindful to not step into a puddle of blood.
"You got all messy," I said, taking out a wet wipe and kneeling in front of her.
She seemed calm now and I gently grasped her face in my hands and wiped the blood off of her face. She stayed immobile, allowing me to clean her. I was able to get the blood of her face off, but her shirt was ruined.
"I might have to get you some new clothes too," I told her.
"Yea..." she mumbled out, finally snapping out of her daze.
"All better?" I teased. "You get so cranky when you're hungry."
She just glared at me.
I finished putting up a poster of Marilyn Mason on one wall of the crypt and took a step back to admire it. The place was now decked out with a shag carpet, beaded curtain dividers, several candles, throw pillows, a small coffee table, and a battery powered boom box with a stack of cd's next to it that featured my favorite bands.
Rosalie did not look impressed.
"Really?"
"Really," I said. "You needed some color in this place."
"Everything you brought is in black."
"You got a problem with my color preference?"
"I'm more of a pastel girl."
I rolled my eyes at her. "Pastel pink?"
"You got a problem with my color preference?"
"Yup," I said, flopping back against the pile of throw pillows and crossing my legs over the other. "It's so cliché."
"Literally not. I might as well have invented the trend for pastel pink stuff."
"It so is. The popular girl, liking pink? Let me guess, you also were a cheerleader?"
She crossed her arms over her chest.
"I knew it."
"Don't be so smug about it. There's a bunch of stuff you don't know about me."
"Then indulge me." I spread my hands out. "It's only 9pm, I've got some time."
She scowled. "What about school? Don't you have school work to do?"
"I do it at school, during lunch. Shit's easy."
"Sleeping? What about a good night's rest?"
"I have insomnia."
She let out an irritated huff but sat down next to me on the throw pillows. "What do you wanna know?" she asked, drawing a knee up to her chest.
"What was life like before?"
"Before the curse?" she asked. She shrugged. "It was...mind numbingly boring."
"I thought being popular was exciting."
She took in my general appearance. Brown medium length hair, the bags under my eyes, the many ear piercings, the black lipstick. The oversized black hoodie, black plaid skirt, long stockings with purposeful rips down them and the converse.
"That's only because you're not popular," she drawled in conclusion.
Technically the truth and something I was proud of, but still, rude of her to call me out like this. "You don't know that. Things could have changed drastically in 12 years. Goths could rule the schools now."
"I highly doubt that," she said with a small giggle that made me feel toasty inside. "Forks is a small town. Closed minded. It won't change. And for someone like me, someone who was thrust onto the top of the food chain because of my looks, and my father's money, well- it's like living in a glass bubble on display for everyone. I hated it."
She drew her leg closer to her chest, trying to appear smaller. "I always had to be perfect at everything I did. My grades had to be the best. I had to look my best- ironically I ended up having an eating disorder from that and now I have an eating disorder of a whole other kind." A bitter laugh here. "I had to be athletic too, and help out with my mother's charity. There was just so much pressure on me to do the right thing, to be the best. I was the IT girl. Not only that, but my boyfriends. I had to date them to fit in with societal expectations. They were all pigs. I couldn't deal with them for more than a few months. And then I made the mistake of dating a witch's son.
"His name was Jacob. He was cute, handsome. Good at sports. And he was kind. But I was so fed up with men at this point that I couldn't handle him touching me. I broke things up with him pretty savagely and his mother found out. That was when she cursed me. Told me I had to find 'a heart' if I ever wanted to become human again."
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "And here I am, 12 years later. Still a zombie."
I leaned over and grabbed her hand. Her eyes popped open at this. "It's alright. We'll find you a boy you can fall in love with."
"Like this?" she said weakly, gesturing to herself.
"He doesn't have to know you're a zombie. Besides, if the love works it'll break your curse and you'll be human again so you won't ever have to tell him."
She shook her head, swallowing thickly. "I don't think I'll ever love a guy."
"Why not?"
She shook her head, biting on her bottom lip. It was so adorable when she did that.
"You won't...you won't get disgusted if I tell you?" she asked, voice small and meek.
I laughed. "You serious? You're a fucking zombie. I saw the body you ate from. If that didn't gross me out, what the fuck will?"
"Well, when you put it that way..." she trailed off before inhaling deeply to gather her courage. "I'm gay."
A beat of silence. "That's the big revelation?" I shoulder bumped her. "Welcome to the club."
"Oh," she said and then with immense relief. "Oh." Her face flushed. "You're also...I mean..."
"Yea, I'm gay. It's not something I go around telling people. But...I feel safe telling you this. After all, you'll literally take it to the grave."
She started to laugh at this, the tension melting from her body and I joined in. I hadn't laughed this hard in a while, but it felt natural to do it with her. My sides began to ache from it, and when I finally began to feel the laughter die down, I looked over at her.
Her eyes locked with mine and we sat there, watching the smiles drop from our faces until it became too awkward to continue looking and we both looked away.
"You know," I said, twirling the pop in my mouth as I rested my head on her lap. "It's going to be Halloween soon."
"And?" Over the book she was reading I could see her arch an unimpressed brow.
"You should come down and visit town."
Her grip tightened on the book, but her voice was even as she said, "oh?"
I flipped over on my stomach and kicked my legs over my back. "This would be the perfect night for you to come down. You could dress up and no one would even know who you were. You could be normal for one night."
"I don't know...I haven't been down there in years. Not during the day with people around at least. I don't know if I could handle it."
I reached over and gave her thigh a squeeze. "I'll be there with you. You'll be fine. Promise."
Rosalie held my hand in a death grip as we made our way from the graveyard to the town where the Halloween parade was happening. It was evening, the sky dim but bright enough that it didn't count as evening yet.
"Ease up," I told her. "You're killing my circulation."
She eased up a bit, but ducked her head down, trying to hide her face behind her curtain of blonde hair. "You got me a zombie costume," she hissed out between clenched teeth.
"It's for the irony."
"Bella," she growled. "What if they recognize me through it?"
I looked over at her. Her skin had been painted green, splattered with blood around her lips and she wore torn up clothing. "I doubt anyone would recognize you under the dozens of layers of make up you have on."
She let out an annoyed groan. "I can't believe that you made me dress like this. I would have never been caught dead in such a horrid outfit in the past."
I threw her a smirk at her choice of words and she scowled at me. "Grow up."
"You first."
For that she gripped my hand even harder in retaliation and I let out a gasp of pain. "Okay, relax!"
"I hope you're not going to regret this," she hissed as her shoulders stiffened up. Peels of kids laughter grew louder as she approached main street. They were running up ahead to catch up with their parents who were heading towards the giant arch of orange and black balloons. "What if I eat someone."
"You fed before this. All those cuts of meat," I said, squeezing her hand back in comfort. I couldn't tell if she could feel. Her own grip was white knuckled. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm not...I shouldn't be...but what if I slip up? I haven't been around people in so long..." her voice cracked and I pulled the two of us to a stop. I titled her chin up so she could look right into my eyes. Unsteady blue met steady brown.
"You won't. You're going to have a good time. I promise."
"...did you bring a counter measure, like you said you would?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes." The taser was inside my costume's pocket. "Now can we please go enjoy the festival?" I held up our joined hands and covered the back of hers with my other hand, holding her one in between both of mine.
She gave a tentative smile. "I suppose."
I smiled back. "You didn't even tell me how cute my costume is." I let go of her hand and did a little twirl to show off the all black outfit with skeleton bones printed on it. My face had been done up to look like a skull was on it.
She scoffed. "You're a skeleton. How is that cute?"
"I have a little pink bow in my hair," I said, pointing up to it.
She rolled her eyes. "You could have looked cuter in a pink skirt."
I fake gagged at this. "Please, that is the most sickening thing I have ever heard."
"What do you have against pink? When did it ever hurt you?"
"Pink is a crime against fashion."
"Says the girl with no fashion taste."
We headed towards where the music blared as Halloween tunes started being played, debating the whole way. Overhead the leaves swirled in reds, oranges, and yellows.
The festival drew to a close at ten pm, and found us walking back to Rosalie's crypt.
"I forgot how much fun this all was," Rosalie said, cheeks flushed with adrenaline and excitement from the evening. "How much fun it was to be alive again!"
I squeezed her hand in mine, chest glowing fiercely to see her so happy once more. She glanced at me gratefully. The evening had been memorable. Rosalie had started out stiff, clinging to my hand, making a wide berth around people. When no one had paid any attention to her, she began to relax against me. We went bobbing for apples, enjoyed some apple cider and doughnuts, watched fire breathers and sword swallowers, sang along to some songs, watched a costume contest and finally tried our hand at some arcade games.
With her hand in my left, I held the bat plushie she had won for me in the other. It was big enough that I had to hold it to my chest.
"I told you it would be fun," I said softly.
We arrived at the door to her crypt and we stopped there before I would say goodbye to her for the night. "Bella, seriously. I don't think I can thank you enough for this night," she said. Her zombie makeup had worn off a bit from the evening's activities and I could see hints of her red lips and pale skin underneath.
"Just seeing you happy is enough for me," I said, meaning it.
She swallowed thickly, seemingly overcome by some emotion. Her eyes sparkled. "Have a goodnight Bella." She turned to slid the crypt door open and I waved goodnight to her. She watched me leave and only went into her crypt when I had disappeared from her sight.
I got home that evening, washed off all my makeup and laid down on the bed, holding the bat plushie up. It had a goofy grin on it's face. There had been other stuffed animals there. The usual fair that were 'cute' and 'for girls'. Rosalie hadn't picked one of those for me. This was the first time someone had actively given me something 'odd' enough for my tastes. Despite all her picking at me for my proclivities, she indulged them.
I hugged it to my chest, stupidly wishing her scent was on it.
