Trigger Warning: This chapter and the following chapter may be upsetting to some due to a scene involving potential non-con … reader's discretion advised.
A/N: Here's another chapter to get us all caught up! Things are about to get pretty intense! Hope you enjoy! I'm going to pack quickly for TFMU tonight so that I can get back to working on this story! :)
5
An hour and two cups of coffee later, Jessica basically knew an overview of my entire life. There had never been a time before when I wanted to divulge so much information to a total stranger. Even if she felt like a friend—all because I had spent so much time reading her love advice articles—she was far from that in reality. Maybe she was using me for a story. I could easily become something for her to write about with all of the gory details I had given her. Part of knowing that made me want to crawl into a blue hole and stay there forever.
The truth was, I never had friends in the past to tell things to. Every friendship I had was surface level, leaving us to talk about things like weather and gossip and vacation plans. I never opened up and showed my soul to anyone. Before, it always felt like a burdensome waste of time. Why throw all of my shit on someone else? Should I force others to feel my grief too?
My shift was almost over now, and it seemed Jessica was finishing up her final cup of coffee. She had consumed five cups since she had arrived, and I was surprised she wasn't shaking. Now that dusk was preparing to settle, my mind drifted back to the handsome bookstore owner I had saved just the other day.
Was he better now? Had his mind found a more pleasant place?
Now, the bookstore beckoned me. There was nothing I wanted to do more than cross the street and ask him all of these questions directly. Of course, I wouldn't pressure him for answers. I knew how embarrassing it could be to reveal more than you wanted to.
"What are you thinking about?" Jessica asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
Within the duration of our conversation, I hadn't mentioned Edward, my handsome bookstore owner, once. He felt like a secret I wanted to keep—despite feeling almost desperate for advice regarding what to do next. Was it natural to feel so close to someone so quickly?
Maybe there was a sense that we had been through life and death together. After seeing such a vulnerable moment—saving him from a fate he could never return from—I feel tethered to him in some way. In my imagination, which was often too wild for my own good, there was a string between the two of us, holding our hearts together despite the fact that we may as well have been strangers.
What was a stranger anyway? Wasn't everyone a stranger at one point or another? Many days, I feel like a stranger to myself. It wasn't often that I awoke to look in the mirror to find a woman I recognized. Often, I'd find brown, guileless eyes looking for a direction. Any direction. As long as that direction took me to another place entirely.
Now could be a good time to leave. Moving on could be the healthiest thing to do. I couldn't become too invested here—or any one place, for that matter. There was too much following me. Too much still awaiting me ahead. I should leave everything here and keep going. Forget about this handsome bookstore owner who has somehow possessed me.
My mother had been in love, and I couldn't overlook how she ended up. Who I am today, at this age and at this time, was probably very close to who she had been too. As different as I wanted to feel from her, I knew I wasn't so different after all. Similar to her, I was a lost soul looking for something. In trying to find something, she had lost herself. Was I prepared to lose myself too?
Could I afford to evaporate into seafoam? Could I afford to lose myself in search of something that felt almost mystical? Love … something I had only heard of but never experienced firsthand.
I needed to stay healthy. I needed to stay sane. I needed to go … but didn't want to.
"You look flighty," Jessica commented as she began to pack up her things. "If you don't feel like talking anymore, I should probably head out."
Something about her words made my heart race. It seemed like if I couldn't open up in this moment, I'd lose any chance to see her again.
But hadn't I already opened up enough?
"There … there is something … someone … I've been thinking about."
The words came out rushed and labored. A flush quickly covered my cheeks as well as the tips of my ears, surely making me appear red and childish. Jessica smiled in a way I had never seen before. This was different than the smiles she had bestowed on me throughout the past hour. Those had been friendly and sometimes sympathetic. This one felt potent. Like a grin a predator might make before unhinging their jaw.
"Someone special?" she said as her grin became mischievous as if we were two teens gossiping over Tiger Beat magazines.
"Well … I mean … We're not anything."
"Not yet."
My blush grew more irritated. "I don't think we'll ever be anything like that. I mean, I don't need another relationship. Especially after everything … It's just—it's not the right time."
"But he's special to you?"
"More than special."
It was the first time I admitted it to myself. Edward Cullen was something different. In the few times we had spoken, there was a connection I couldn't deny. Sometimes, things just felt … right. There were people who felt as if you had known them for a lifetime after talking with them for just a few minutes.
Maybe sometimes, things didn't need to make sense. Trying to make everything make sense—trying to put everything in its own box or category—may indeed just be senseless.
"Then go after him! If he's special, more than special," she added with a wink, "then don't let him go. Don't let him become the one who got away."
The one who got away? Could he be the "one who got away" if he were never truly mine to begin with?
"I don't know if now is the right time …"
"It's always the right time for love," Jessica argued before standing up from her seat. "If it's meant to be, then let him be yours."
I nodded as if that made perfect sense—as if my mind had become clear and lucid. Truly, my thoughts were running rampant. It was a clatter of contradicting statements inside my skull.
"What …" I began before my voice trailed off. Should I have been asking for advice? Especially while part of my gut was telling me to drop everything and run. Still, the words came out. I spoke thoughtlessly, not admitting to the weight my question carried. "What should I do? How do I go after him?"
"I mean, you've had experience before …"
I wouldn't call my past "experience." Everything had felt as if it had been forced upon me. Nothing felt organic or uniquely my own.
After judging my face, Jessica leaned forward onto the countertop and reached out to take my hand in hers. Her hold was delicate enough to be feminine but contained a grip that suggested that once she latched on, she would never let go. My breath hitched, and for a moment, fear shot through my veins. A chill ran over me, passing down my spine in a way I hoped would go unnoticed.
"If you want, I'll work with you, Bella. Here's what we'll do …"
***************************Sea foam and Sea Witches*********************************************
Hours later, I walked home in a daze. After Jessica left the diner, more customers came, filtering in and out in a way that I barely noticed, before my shift finally came to an end. With numb fingers, I clocked out, waved goodbye to the staff, and then left without a word. Tonight, I chose to walk home, wanting to feel the fresh air while hoping it would clear the confusion in my mind.
Jessica had bestowed on me a "fool proof plan" to win the man I loved. The more I thought of it, the more I questioned the nature of everything. If I were to fall in love again, I had hoped it would feel natural and organic—as if the universe had fated it. With a plan, everything felt forced.
Of course, her "fool proof plan" was only meant to give me a chance. She couldn't guarantee anything—she wasn't a witch or psychic, after all.
"If you open your heart … open your spirit … you'll find the love that you've been searching for. The love that you've earned through so many hardships …"
Jessica words rang in my ears as if she were right beside me. As I stood on the sidewalk, facing the shops and apartments across the street from Wanda's Diner, I imagined Edward standing again on that rooftop—among the flowers and the evening sky. In my vision, he shone like one of the stars, appearing as a bright escape from a world of darkness.
I stood there long enough as if I were waiting for him to emerge. Then, I found myself moving across the street, following the loud clamor of music that trickled from the cracked door of the local bar. Outside, two older men were smoking while nursing their beer bottles. Every so often, they would take a chug between drags as they shot the shit with one another. As I moved close, their gaze drifted to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I noticed it but didn't pay it much mind as I thought instead of the rooftop flowers.
Already, I could smell the roses and imagined the way they would feel smooth and gentle against my fingertips. It was a scent that strangely felt like home. In a dreary, middle-of-nowhere town, I could smell a meadow in the middle of a forest. I could become immersed in a unique beauty that seemed even more gorgeous against the gray backdrop.
It felt like looking at the bits of grass found growing in cracks of concrete. Those signs of life beneath the drab, man-made landscape. Something about those bits of grass had always given me a small hope. They made me feel that even in ugliness, new life could be found.
I walked along the sidewalk to the back of the building, knowing there would be an entrance for the apartments. If I couldn't get to the roof that way, I would lie my way up there through the bar owner Rick. If I could convince him that Edward needed me, he would surely give me entrance to the apartments.
As I rounded the corner, I saw a few trash cans and random boxes that were discarded and ready to be thrown away. One would never think that something like this would lead to something as gorgeous as the building's rooftop. This felt like reality—dreary, worn, and tired—and I was ready to soar to the clouds. I wanted to leave this concrete world and ascend to the fragrant garden that felt like my handsome stranger.
At the end of the building, appearing to be near the back door of the pharmacy, there was a fire escape. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing this would be my best bet. Now, my steps quickened as I closed the distance between myself and the ladder. Only then did I hear voices. They were quiet at first, sounding as if two people were speaking to each other, before they called out in my direction.
"Girlie, what are you doing over there? You need some help?"
While the words weren't threating in themselves, there was an edge to the voice that caused my pulse to quicken. My legs moved with a greater urgency. The excitement for the flowers drifted away, being replaced with a potent fear.
My gaze remained forward—I didn't dare look back—as I jumped onto the ladder that was hanging a few feet above the ground. Despite the ladder to the fire escape looking sturdy, it shook with every move I made. The palms of my hands were sweaty, causing my grip to become slippery as I pulled myself from one bar of the ladder to the next.
The footsteps behind me sounded closer. They were moving faster, and when I was high enough off the ground, feeling somewhat safe as I stepped onto the first platform and gripped the handrail of the staircase, I peered over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the two older men from outside of the bar.
Even from where I stood, I could see that all of the boredom in their gaze had dissipated. Now, their eyes were narrowed with something that reeked of determination. Whatever they were determined to do, I didn't want to allow my mind to think about.
Still, my mind went to that place on its own. As I started up the stairway, moving toward the second-floor platform, I imagined what would happen once they came within reach. The images of their bodies holding down mine filled me as bile rose to rest on my tongue. I choked as I spit the bile out onto the metal stair beneath my left foot, then I stepped onto the third-floor platform before being met with two windows before me.
The lights were on, suggesting that someone in these apartments were home. For a moment, I considered tapping on the windows and begging to be let inside. What would I say though? You don't know me, and I don't live here but I wanted to spend time on your roof, and before I knew it, two guys were following me? They would probably call the police. And maybe that was for the best.
One of the men had dropped his beer on the pavement, causing the glass to shatter, before finishing off his cigarette and jumping onto the ladder. Despite his age, he was agile and quickly climbed onto the first platform as I watched and felt my knees begin to shake.
"Be quiet!" his friend, who was still standing on the ground and finishing off his beer, warned him before giving him a wet sounding hush.
"Yeah, yeah," the man on the platform muttered back before turning his gaze to me.
Would they be so bold as to follow me up here? Even with so many people obviously home?
By the time I made my right hand into a fist and prepared to knock on the window, the other man was climbing the ladder, joining his friend with a choked laugh. I managed to pack a single knock before fear overwhelmed me, causing me to run across the metal platform that ran across the entire third floor toward the ladder that was found at the end of it, leading to roof excess.
I knew the roof would only trap me. I knew the only option to escape would be to jump. Still, my limbs moved on their own. I don't know why I felt safer closer to the sky. It was stupid. Even in my fearful haze, I realized that. I could climb back down the platforms or something … hoping that athleticism would flow through my body as adrenaline filled me.
Maybe I was just used to making stupid decisions. Maybe my entire life had consisted of one dumb mistake after the next. This could be my final ignorant choice. At least, if that were true, I'd be able to leave this place while seeing something beautiful.
In the past, whenever I had come close to death, I had been surrounded entirely by ugliness. Now, at the very least, I could die among the flowers. I could fade away while smelling roses and thinking of something pretty.
No … I shouldn't have been thinking of death. Not yet.
There was still fight left in me. A desire to live coursing through my veins quickly enough to keep me upright and moving. I climbed up the ladder, onto the roof, and let go of a ragged breath before jogging deep into the garden.
The rose bushes that I had been admiring the other night now looked like my best shot at hiding. Although any hiding would be useless. The two men watched me come up here, after all. But if someone inside the apartments heard them, maybe someone had the sense to call the police … In that case, I could bide my time up here. If I hid long enough, maybe I wouldn't be met with any harm.
If I didn't have hope at a time like this, what did I have? I had spent my life crying before tragedy struck, fearful of all of the maybes and what ifs. Fear only made the pain last longer. Why not cry when things were a definite? Then, I could let my tears truly carry me away.
A new determination filled me as I crouched behind the rose bushes and kept my eyes peeled. I could hear their feet moving against the metal of the platforms, and I knew soon, they'd join me on this roof. If they found me, could I fight them off? I had never fought back before. I had only fled. Tonight, could I finally find that strength inside of me. Could I channel all of the anger that had been lying dormant inside of me for so long?
Then, I heard two feet jump onto the roof, followed quickly by another pair. Behind the bush, I listened to their footsteps, finding that they sounded clumsy and disjointed. Before they seemed sober enough, but now, hearing their footsteps, they seemed downright drunk.
This caused a new wave of hope to crash into me. If they were drunk, I had a better chance at fighting them off if they managed to reach me.
"Come on, little girl … come out and play with us," one of the men said, sounding as if he were staggering around.
"Don't be afraid," a different voice said. "We're not going to hurt you. We just want to talk."
"Talk … and maybe something funner than talking."
My stomach dropped. As I needed comfort and didn't know where to find it, I reached out and ran my fingers over a rose in front of me. After I closed my eyes, wanting to shut everything out for a moment, I inhaled its sweet smell. It smelled like the richness of life. I wanted to cover my skin with rose petals in the hopes of being born again brand new.
With my eyes closed, listening to the two men stumble around the rooftop, I wanted to cry out. Edward, please come up here! Please save me! Anyone … please hear me! Please get help! While I wanted to scream for him, the man who had possessed my mind upon first meeting, I kept my lips closed. Somehow, I knew if I wanted a person to save me, I would have to find that person inside of myself.
I had a hunch that no Prince Charming would come. No one would defeat the dragon lurking near me and carry me off to a safer and happier future. Maybe I didn't need a Prince Charming though. Maybe I would just have to defeat the monsters myself.