Yes, you all can be upset with me. I have not wanted to update the story because I have lost confidence in myself. All the chapters I have posted so far went with my outline, but now I don't have one for this chapter. So far in my outline, I have the ending set up, along with other major plot points set up, but the issue is the "inbetween." I also have a plan set up for a second installment of the story (If y'all would want a Book 2 of this) to maybe keep this going further past Edward and Bella graduating… giving them an ending. I am completely lost right now. I aim to please, but I'm worried I no longer can do that. The amount of times I rewrote and rewrote this chapter is ridiculous. I kept deleting it because I was unhappy with my work. You guys keep telling me how much you all love my story, so now I am so worried about posting something that isn't well written. So… I do apologize. I think I have cried out in vexation multiple times the last three week because I cannot find a good way to do this chapter. So, I'm giving into it.
Welcome back and thank you to Kathryn L. Malone, ginkgo00, writingblondie, Kyr, letmereadthat, C. Car, KittenAlice2, Magda95, jlap. mypersonalfiles, Ladysylphide, myfanficaddiction, William Francies Reisen-Newman, NikkiElle, Noee, Jayia, Rensie, and LydiatheFirst for reviewing!
Kathyrn L. Malone, yes they are now speaking to each other more… civil level like you mentioned. I am struggling trying to bring them together… and hopefully bring the rest into the picture.
gingko00, thank you… I needed to hear that honestly.
writingblondie, thank you(: Yeah, Bella's not going to be too excited about not being able to go see her friends down at La Push anymore… but they can always hang elsewhere. I wanted to make Angela a bigger part in this story because I believed if Bella wasn't so enamored by Edward from the beginning, that their friendship would have blossomed more. Yes! The wolves hit a heavy spot when they were upset when Bella killed those criminals. Rosalie definitely didn't like their judgement. And yes, I always liked Rosalie too.. And I'm trying so hard to get Bella and Edward to have a conversation together. Problem is having different discussions in increments.
Kyr, thank you for reviewing (:
letmereadthat, thank you for reviewing a lot of my chapters! Here is your update!(:
C. Car, thank you for reading!(:
KittenAlice2, Thank you and I'm so sorry for not updating sooner to keep your week going! I do try my best to put as much detail as I can into my story so we can convey their expressions in the best way. Yes, they have started to get to know each other. Trust me, this has been one of the things I have dreaded the most to write because… the struggle I am having putting two individuals together who had trust issues is a challenge for me. Yes, and that keychain Jacob gave her will just be a reminder that she can't go there to see him. YES! I always believed if Bella wasn't so enamored by Edward in the books, that her and Angela's friendship would have blossomed. I do plan to keep them close, and I also have a very back-and-forth idea with Angela. Sometimes I choose a certain idea for her and Bella's friendship and then I say, "No, leave it canon."
Magda95, haha yes the brother and sister fight was something I needed to add. Because they always had a loving sibling relationship while always butting heads. I am doing my best to keep their relationship growing naturally but it has been a challenge. Especially since the story has hit around 170k words.. I worry that I am taking too long to build it up. Basically the stuff I had written from Edward about their reasons… is mainly why… but also… some unsaid reasons from Edward *wink wink.* Oh yeah, that fight would be over quickly and the wolves know that.
jlap. mypersonalfiles, Thank you for saying it's progressing smoothly… I am having issues keeping it going smoothly though which is why I haven't updated… in forever. Angela has always been someone I wanted to see more of in Twilight because she's such a kind soul.
Ladysylphide, oh no! Haha I left a "Chapter Update" about the re-writes open for a little over a week incase anyone would have come back to see if there was a new update. I am so sorry that you weren't aware of the updates and that is my fault for not mentioning it in the beginning of the last chapter.
myfanficaddiction, hello! And wow, that is a hefty review and I LOVE IT. Yes I do love my job. It's pretty neat! Yes, Angela is someone I definitely wanted to have more in the story because she was always so kind. Of course, Jacob is invited to every party! And I agree! I understand the hate on Jacob after he is a wolf, but pre-wolf Jacob slander is never tolerated with me because I looooove pre-wolf Jacob and I love him after, as well. Whenever I re-read the saga, Jacob has always brought me a feeling of home, warmth, childhood nostalgia, friendship, and happiness… and I wanted to keep that in my story. I stop reading fanfictions if Bella is horrible to him for absolutely no reason, or they make Jacob a malicious character. (and usually in fanfictions, there really is no reason. The writer normally has malice towards the character and wants him written off quickly.) And ah, yes… when they phase.. Will have to see! I also want to express that I have no disliking to Sam or Jared. I always found their characters to be understanding and Jared to be goofy. There is no behind the scenes with them.. So just imagine them the same. I only wrote them this way towards Bella because… they wolves always have been cautious when it came to outsiders. They disliked the Cullens because of their threat, but Bella is not a vampire… and them not knowing what she is, plus finding a dead body isn't going to go over well with them lol. I already sent you a link to the shades of skin tone I use. Yes, Limestone skin tone has a hint of tan to it, so it is much different than Bella's normal pale color. LMAO yeah she just becomes paler and later tells everyone she re-applied again. Edward and Bella hs been a challenge for me because bringing two people together who don't necessarily have a lot of trust in each other is an issue for me. Edward has more trust in her than she does in his family, but I am doing my best to bring it as smoothly as I possibly can. No, Alice can't see anything about Bella at all. It's actually the same reason she can't see the wolves because she never has been a wolf or a succubus before. But, Alice is a very self-excitable character and mostly just is very intrigued in Bella. Rosalie and Bella will have their moment eventually as well.
William Francies Reisen-Newman, thanks, man!
NikkiElle, I appreciate!
Noee, I know.. I know. I am having the hardest time updating because I cannot figure out the "in-between" moments. Cullen participation will continue. I took my focusing medicine after I read your review and … am now typing. I just hate to disappoint you guys because you all leave such nice reviews. And I think, "yeah that was a good chapter." And when I was writing this one… I did not like it at all and deleted it many times. So… I hope you enjoy.
Jayia, AH! I love to hear that thank you. Chapter 17 is… now!
Rensie, two days? Impressive! Yes, I want to build the story up because I didn't want it to fly by so quickly and also because… two supernaturals aren't going to just come together so easily. Yes, those men definitely deserved what had happened to them. And thank you… I have had some others with different thoughts believing that she shouldn't feel remorse towards her victims.. But it's Bella. Bella still holds a lot of her humanity. And very nice theory.. (;
LydiatheFirst, wow the fact my story is still reaching out to new people who go through the whole thing is amazing to me!
All rights to these characters and the Twilight Saga go to Stephenie Meyer. Enjoy!(:
Chapter 16: Younger Sister
Monday night — February 21, 2005.
"You don't celebrate your birthday?" I asked, skeptically at him as I assessed the growing 'v' formed between his eyebrows. His tongue skimmed over his lower lip as he looked away from me, but then his lips had formed amusement all the same.
"No."
"Ever?"
"No."
"Why not?" I crawled towards the end of the bed and languorously lied myself onto my stomach, staring up at him as he continued to push himself back slowly on the rocking chair. Not celebrating birthdays is not an uncommon thing, because I do not normally do the same for mine, but it still was always acknowledged.
"They begin to seem unimportant when you have lived as long as I have." His smile seemed calculating, turning into a silent laugh where he must have been enjoying himself into a private joke. "The last birthday we had celebrated was Emmett's in 1935."
But I only slightly gasp, looking up at him in wonder of how old he must be if he had made the last notion of his sentence seem so important in his reasoning. Edward noticed my gaping stare, and his eyebrow raised while his eyes narrowed at me, reading my own.
"What are you thinking about?" He leaned forward, balancing his elbows onto his knees, and resting his chin on his closed knuckles.
"I'm thinking about how old you must be." I admitted. "You said, 'as long as I have,' and it makes me question how many must have passed to make a birthday become meaningless."
He nods.
"I have been deemed to exist longer than most humans have, yes, but what I was pertaining to was that the birthdays become meaningless when you aren't showing your age."
Oh.
I looked down, fumbling with the soft cover of my bed. How would that be, going each day and each year overlooking the day you were born time by time again? Looking at Edward, I do not know if it's a pang of sympathy I feel. I wondered if he ever had been able to enjoy his first drop of liquor. I wondered if he enjoyed his life before his inevitable change. I wondered if he had met someone, a beautiful girl perhaps that had fancied him the same as he fancied her, and if their relationship had come to an end when he changed. But these thoughts of the 'what ifs' for him only pushed me to think of my own narrative for my future. I would not look the age of an eighteen-year-old girl in September. I may pass as a seventeen-year-old girl now easy enough, but as the years go by, would I ever have my first drink at the age of twenty-one? I could still drink if I chose, I was sure, but would I continue renewing my identification to a certain point that I no longer could stretch this façade? The lie of my identity. The lie of my age. How old could I continue till I no longer could go further?
"What age were you when you were turned?" I asked, staring into his defining features. He resembles a high school student who appeared around my age, and maybe if he had slicked his hair back and wore a pair of glasses with the correct wardrobe ensemble, he could pass for a twenty-two-year-old man if he chose to.
"Seventeen," he whispered.
"Seventeen," I murmured back. But for how long?
"I was born in Chicago in 1901."
Holy crow! I calculated the years and their difference in my head, concluding that he would be turning one hundred four this year. Yes, he would be older than most humans.
"And you were born in Phoenix, correct?"
"No," I breathed, still dialing his age in my thoughts. "I was born here," I replied. "I lived in this house as an infant, but my mother took me to Phoenix to grow up instead. I was sixteen when I became… what I am."
He smirked sardonically. "And you'll be sixteen for almost two years, soon."
"Yes."
"And how does that make you feel? Knowing that you will be that age forevermore." The cadence in his voice fell as he blindly sat onto the edge of my bed, in front of my sprawled body, taking his finger and tilting my chin up to look at him, though words did not escape my lips. I stared blankly at him, gawking. His actions had been mercurial almost. Had this been a question that he had hoped to obtain from me to validate his own self?
His eyes darted back and forth between my own, deciding which to land on, while mine stared at the pale ripples that formed on his forehead in frustration. Was he waiting on my reply, or had it been rhetorical? I could not find the answer in his fleeting gaze.
"I don't know," I replied. "I suppose celebrating birthdays would be silly. But I do know my plans for the future." I continued to stare, acknowledging his cold touch that graced my skin. Acknowledging my tongue pressing against the back of my teeth in the moment of weakness that I had felt from him. He didn't speak further, and I assumed with his expression that formed with plead, that he wanted me to continue.
"I think after I graduate high school, I will go to college."
"And then?" His expression altered from exasperated frustration into formulating thoughts. His eyes continuing to study mine.
What was he looking for in them?
"What?" I asked, losing my thoughts from the closeness of his breath to me. The sweet decadent scent from his close breath caused the blood to flush through my face, swelling my parted lips, but it wasn't a hunger that I had felt to feed from him. Now it was more of an acknowledgement that I noticed from it, noticing the divine taste that lingered across my lips, but knowing I was still satisfied from my previous squabble had left me not needing more from him. I found myself falling into an unintentional haze as I continued to stare into his features that would shift only slightly.
"What else do you have planned for the future?" He urged, breaking my hold.
"It's only partly formed," I exhaled, shakenly, breaking the contact of my eyes that held strong onto his features. I looked down at his hand that still held my chin upwards to him. He noticed my unsureness of it, and gently moved his finger away, placing them onto his lap. I glanced away towards the door of my bedroom, hiding the heat of my face at his token.
"Will you tell me those plans?"
"My plans?"
"The one where you begin to decide you no longer can stay," he spoke. "Where will you go?"
I pulled my swollen lip in between my teeth, pushing myself back up on the bed so that Edward and I are more leveled with each other.
Why did he care so much about my future? I would be gone and out of his family's lives soon and there would be no need to worry about my impending slip-up following my departure.
"Um," I held my gaze away. "Maybe I'll get a degree in biology or literature. And with the aging informality, maybe I would do low quality video chatting with my parents so I can keep in touch with them." This time I looked up at him, checking for any signs of disagreement. "Or" I thought of Mrs. Weaver's suggestion. "I'll tell them."
That did the trick. His eyes widened as his lips parted in an empty gasp that next cleared through his lips causing my skin to glaze over in chills. His body had stiffened as he continued to stare at me, now reverting to his dancing gaze between mine. I continued to wait, anticipating his response to my words. I had wondered if this had not been an option for him. To tell his family what had happened to him, which I couldn't understand why not. I do not know if I'd ever be able to leave Charlie with no connotation of where I went. Renee has Phil so I am assured she would be fine with a disappearance from me, but Charlie doesn't have that. If there was anything I was sure of, is that he still was not over the divorce, so me leaving him forever would surely not be beneficial.
"Tell your parents?" He whispered in disbelief. "Do you understand the issues that come with that?"
"I don't know what you mean," I admitted. "I know that it'll come as a shock to them, but they are my parents. I could not just leave them without any explanation. Charlie is a cop. He'll probably have a swat team searching for me while my mother would end up using her life savings by seeking out a spurious psychic to locate me."
"But a human, Bella. A human whose whole life believed that myths and legends were just that. Myths and legends. Imagine the mental toll that could place on someone."
I rolled my eyes in mock. Yeah, believe me. I understand that very well.
The vexation on his features came back into full force. "And you haven't thought to stage your death?"
What?
"No!" I inhaled my shout. "I couldn't do that to them!"
He deeply inhaled air into his lungs, looking away only slightly from me as his eyes searched around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I do not know. His expression held a bleak somber as he continued the triumph in his thoughts that I couldn't read. Had I hit a nerve?
"Did you stage your death to your parents?" I whispered, leaning slightly closer to him to regrasp his attention.
He shook his head, clenching his eyes.
"Then, what happened?"
"The Spanish influenza got to them before my change," he said quietly, peeking up at me through the lashes that formed shadows across his upper cheeks.
"I'm so sorry."
"No need. I do not remember them well enough. Most of the images of my previous life are held in Carlisle's mind of my mother's face."
"Carlisle knew them?" I asked. That came as a shock to me. From what I knew, the Spanish Influenza pandemic came full throttle in 1918, affecting over five hundred million people across the globe.
"My mother did, yes," he replied, fastidious with his words. "My father had already previously succumbed to the illness, falling sickly to his death during the first wave, but my mother and I weren't too far behind him. Carlisle was working nights at the hospital in Chicago where my mother and I were, and on the last day of her life, through possible counts of hallucination, my mother had insinuated that Carlisle was more than what he seemed. She asked him to save me, and less than an hour later, she passed. I was laying in the room near her, and my death was becoming imminent." He paused. "Carlisle held onto her pleas and proceeded with them."
"Carlisle kept her wishes," I whispered, trying to console his impeding gaze.
"I wished for that he had not to be completely transparent. For over eighty years, I had questioned his judgement on my mother. I had questioned for why he would bestow a life onto an ill boy solely based on the cries of a woman whose mind had clearly been clouded over with illness, but it still is a comforting thought I presume that my mother's last thoughts were of saving me."
It was clear he reflected fondly of his late mother.
"I don't think Carlisle would have given you a life you couldn't handle, Edward."
He snorted in disdain. "So you would think." He shifted away from me, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "And that would conclude the epilogue of my inabilities to say goodbye to my family."
"What about your adopted family? Did they tell their relatives about what they had become?"
He shook his head again. "No. As newborns, our drive for blood would overcome our emotions towards our familial relationships. If we were to go see them, especially so soon, we would most likely have killed them. It takes years, even decades of practice to overcome the urge to not kill. So no, all of our deaths were staged."
I felt a surge of pity flow through me. The goodbyes that were never spoken.
"But you know that I won't harm my family. I live with my dad, Edward. He isn't in danger of me."
"I know that, but it's not the only reason my kind cannot tell our family or humans in general what we are," he smirked, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Our kind has rules and lawmakers who set those rules for us. There aren't many of these laws, and they mainly concern the secrecy surrounding the existence of vampires."
Lawmakers?
"And who makes these laws?"
Edward exhaled with a raised eyebrow at my persistent curiosity of him but continued.
"They are of a large coven called the Volturi that have existed for well over three-thousand years. They are portrayed as the unofficial royalty in the world of vampires and are an incredibly influential coven. They act as guardians, keeping the secret society of vampires hidden from the human world as needed. They often send agents to travel from Volterra to prevent overzealous covens from exposing vampires through mass eradication of every vampire and human present."
Edward looked back over towards me, assessing my expression and reaction again to his words, which had almost felt overwhelming. Though, I was not a vampire, and my concerns didn't involve them. But I understood the fears that Edward had created for himself. The fears for his own family.
"If you were to tell a human, such as a random person on the street, or even one that you felt you could trust, how would Volturi find out?"
"It's possible they wouldn't, not without a meeting with us that is. But telling a random stranger on the street would stir a higher chance of that human televising our existence."
"Is it possible that telling me what you were would also violate the law? I know I'm not human, but I wouldn't want your family to be in danger because of me."
He shook his head. "As with the wolves, you have your own secrets to protect. I am not sure how they would take the idea of an entity that we had not known existed knowing what we are but considering that they most likely do not know of you or your kind, it isn't a worry."
I nodded, but I wondered if his concern was for a different reason.
"I don't believe there is a succubus empire of lawmakers, Edward," I rolled my eyes in mock. "And I wouldn't tell Charlie about you or your family. Just me. I wouldn't put you at risk."
"I know," he nodded with a stolid grin. He was assessing me again for a moment before he continued. "You should get some rest."
"I'm not tired," I protested with an unintentional yawn. His eyebrow raised at me with humor. "I only did that because you mentioned it!" I silently narrowed my eyes at him with pursed lips. He breathed out an amused chuckle, which only furthered my annoyance. "Besides, I normally don't sleep for another several hours."
His breathy chuckle softened as looked down at me. He lingered his gaze before reaching his longue intricate fingers out towards me causing myself to become vacant. I stared back at him with a stifled breath, holding it still as he gently maneuvered a strand of hair from my cheek and pushed it lightly behind my ear. His eyes were darting back and forth between mine, and I did the same, keeping caution from connecting my eyes to the darkened amber of his. They were warm against his pale skin, full of curiosity. And then there was the spark that lingered when his fingers caressed the back of my ear. Causing us both to silently gasp as we pushed ourselves away and him to quickly withdraw his hand. What was it about his touch that caused such a reaction? I quietly gasping for air and immediately hid myself from him, trying to conceal the knowing heat that was all telling on my cheeks. But Edward lingered.
"I should go check on my family," he breathed, pushing strands of his hair away from his eyes. I was almost taken aback by his words as I changed my glance back to him.
Edward stood up and I quickly shuffled towards the head of my bed, staring at him as I leaned against my pillow. He peered around my room once more, taking in the small details. His eyes then laid onto something that I had also redirected my attention to. It was the figurine of the siren that had fallen out of my bag that was leaning against the far wall.
Edward walked over towards it slowly, and picked it up from the ground, turning it around between his fingertips, and inspecting the different crevices and details of it.
"A siren?" he asked with an entertained grin that caused my head to spin from whiplash as his mood had suddenly changed.
I shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought we had similarities."
He hummed. "I wanted to ask you about that. About those two separate nights," he murmured looking down at the figurine again, but peeked over at me with caution. "But I wasn't sure when the time would be right."
Oh. That.
"Some other time, perhaps?" I replied not quickly enough. "Maybe when I can enlighten some truth to your family."
He nodded. "Of course." He set the figurine down onto my bedside table. "Goodnight, Bella."
"Wait, Edward?" I called out as he walked towards my window. I wanted him to stay. I wasn't ready for him to leave. Not just yet. If I was being honest. I wasn't sure what this solicit hunger for him was to stay for a moment longer, but I knew that it was overly consuming me. Maybe it had been the left-over adrenaline from the meet-up with the wolves that caused me to not want to be alone right now. I wasn't sure.
"Bella?" He responded.
But for him… everything seemed so natural.
"How are you so in control now?" I asked. "You told me before that you had wanted to kill me. Is that still there?"
He hesitated, but his face didn't alter into a confused expression or a shocked one that I had expected from him.
"I feed more continuously than I did before, but it's not only that." he paused, glancing over at me. "The potency of your blood changes frequently. In the beginning it was overwhelming which caused my outburst to find you, but after coming back, it had distorted into a softer burn. It still is tempting, just as it is now, though."
That was news to me.
"Why would the potency change?"
Edward shrugged. "I'm sure Carlisle could figure that one out eventually. Him, Alice, and Esme noticed it, as well. It hasn't become so potent to them to act on it, but it does change."
I sighed. Of course, I am even more of a black sheep to his family, and now there is a potential threat that they would become overly consumed to want to hunt me down one day if it became potent enough.
Edward shook his head at me with a tug of a grin twitching on the edges of his lips.
"You don't need to worry about that, Bella. Their desire won't get that far."
"How do you know?"
He paused as his face struggled between a scowl and a deepened smile. "Because I know, and I promise to let you know the next time it becomes too unbearable for me."
"That doesn't explain anything" I pushed, dumbfounded to what that had meant.
He nodded. "Goodnight, Bella."
I blinked at him as he placed his hands on the windowsill, pulling it open and then climbed onto it into a crouch. In a blinding movement, he was gone.
"Goodnight, Edward." I whispered to the closed empty window.
-o-
I woke up to the dull light that cascaded through the window and into my room. The dreams of my sleep had almost been a blur from images of last night between the wolves and the Cullens crowded on either side of an invisible line. I was standing in the front, waiting for an attack from the other side. Then the dream had drifted towards my bedroom with flashing images of the different expressions that featured Edward's face. The way his eyebrows would furrow, the way the ripples would form on his forehead when he had become frustrated. The way a deep 'v' would be set in between. How his disheveled hair would flow over his eyes when he would look away from me. How the ends of his lips would twitch when he would try to fight a smile.
Even in my dreams he haunts my confusion.
I pushed the covers off me, smelling the burning eggs that Charlie was making downstairs. I grabbed a pair of contacts quickly and placed them to my eyes and made my way to my door where I wrapped my cotton robe around me before heading downstairs to save Charlie's breakfast.
"Bella!" Charlie exclaimed in surprise as he was having a war with the eggs using the spatula as his weapon of choice, continuously pushing them around in the pan.
"Dad, your breakfast is burning," I sighed, pushing my way past him, and taking hold of the frying pan. "Let me make you some more."
Charlie grumbled, taking a seat at the table. "Thanks."
I chucked the burnt contents in the pan into the trash can and replaced it back on the stove onto a different burner. I quickly re-sprayed it with pam and went into the fridge to grab the carton of eggs and milk. I whisked three new eggs in a bowl with a light drizzle of milk and repoured it back into the pan, putting the burner on low-to-medium heat.
"I want you to know that I did survive before you moved in." Charlie's mouth twisted in humor.
"I don't see how," I replied with a smirk. "Want some toast to go with these?"
He shook his head. "No, I need to get to the station soon."
"Toast doesn't take long," I said, walking over to the bread box and taking out two slices. I slabbed butter on both and stuck them into the toaster.
"Are you ready for your test tomorrow?" He asked, leaning back in the chair with his arms folded and a parental look on his face.
"Almost," I lied, rolling my eyes at him to ease his tension. I knew most of the material for the biology test, but it would not hurt to brush up on it.
"You've always done well in school, so I'm sure you'll do fine," he replied. "Are you going to work today?"
Charlie and I did not speak much, especially not in the mornings, so his need for conversation seemed out of the ordinary. I wondered if the case still had been bothering him.
"Yes," I said, pushing the spatula against the whisked eggs that were almost complete. "He finally put me on the official payroll, so I got my own log-in account for the computer."
"That's good news. You tell your mom, yet?"
"No, I haven't called her in the past couple of days, but I will."
He sighed, pulling the newspaper over to him on the table, opening it up. The silence was falling between us in the kitchen, allowing me to focus on the eggs and listen to the ticking noises that were present in the toaster as it was coming to completion. I turned the burner off and slid the eggs onto a clean plate, grabbed a fork and knife and placed it on the counter in front of him. He looked up at me, and inspected the eggs, following with a huff.
"I wanted you to know that you didn't have to get a job if money is what you were worried about. It's still my job to take care of you."
"I know. It just would be nice to have some pocket change and build up my savings." I assured him. He raised his eyebrow at me as I grabbed the toast from the toaster as it popped up and placed them onto his plate.
"Thanks," he exhaled a satisfied sigh as he quickly dug into the contents in front of him.
I leapt up the stairs after Charlie headed off to work to get ready for school. I had a few normal moments; brushing my teeth for over a minute, taking the time to brush out the tangles in my hair, washing my face, and checking my contacts in the mirror for any hint of non-alignment. I sighed when I had made it to the toilet to relieve myself, finding spots of blood forming on the lining of my underwear. Menstruations in this life are not as common as they would be when I was human where they were normally on a regular cycle that I followed diligently on my calendar, but in this life, they would occur once every two months. I had hoped that this would have been a thing of the past with the way my blood reacted to wounds, and because I no longer was aging and would not need to go through menstruation cycles since my body appeared to not change, but it's clear my organs still had their own plans that were not agreeable to mine in this sense. I applied a new pad to a change of panties and shuffled out of my now discarded underwear.
After I went over my biology notes briefly, I had come into thought of the Cullens and the high school girls that would go through their menstruation cycles. Does period blood affect their urges? Or is it because it's deoxygenated and contains waste material that would make it unappetizing? I definitely couldn't ask them such a personal question, not while I was going through my own cycle. I knew that because of this I would need to proceed the situation with cautious thought. I wouldn't be sitting at lunch with them this week and would have to hope for the best during biology.
I pulled quickly on a pair of my stained dark washed jeans that made me scold myself for not having shopped for new ones. I pulled on my beige long-sleeve sweater and dirty sneakers and headed to my truck for school. When I had arrived, it was no surprise to see Mike and Ethan there again waiting for me. I smiled at the both and they walked with me to my first class that I had with Eric who waved at me from across the classroom when I had arrived.
The rest of the morning went by swiftly as I took my usual notes and endured Jessica's wrath of conversation between trig and Spanish, and on the way to lunch. I spotted the Cullens immediately while I walked through the lunch line, noticing Alice was pointing her finger at Edward and Emmett was guffawing aloud as Rosalie rolled her eyes at the three of them. Jasper had his hands clasped on his lap, staring down at his lunch tray as he normally did.
Jessica snickered next to me, noticing that I hadn't taken my eyes off them.
"So, you're all buddy-buddy with the Cullens now?" She asked. Immediately, their ears were turned in our direction. I narrowed my eyes at them for being invasive in my conversation.
"Something like that," I replied, grabbing an apple juice out of the fridge, and handing Jessica her usual cranberry juice. We walked together to the lunch table where Angela looked pleased to see me, and I to her. She smiled tiredly at me, moving her backpack out of the seat next to her for me to take my place.
"Another long Tuesday, am I right?" She sighed, as I sat down.
I nodded. "Yepp," popping the 'p' on my lips.
She exhaled a sluggish giggle as she went through her bag, pulling out a binder.
"Are you ready for that test tomorrow?" she yawned. It was clear she was tired. "I studied all night, but I think I made progress."
"I think so. I briefly went over the notes this morning before school started."
"You'll do great. You did on the last test," she replied with a hint of pride in her tone. Is this how real friendships were? Where one hopes for the best in their friends? I pushed an affiliative smile to her, opening her binder between us.
"I mostly am having trouble with this section over passive and active transport," she sighed, pointing to the highlighted section in her notes.
I circled with a pencil lightly on her notes of the sections that separate the basic details of passive and active transport, explaining them briefly, and then drew arrows to the more intricate details in the notes to its accommodating term. I underlined keywords for her to help her decipher between the two easier.
"Wow," she placed her cheek on her open palm. "That helps, a lot. Thank you," she exhaled a relieved sigh.
"Didn't know Bella was such a nerd-alert," Mike laughed, causing a deepened blush of embarrassment to form on my cheeks. I could hear a low growl coming from the corner of the lunchroom, knowing exactly who it was coming from. Edward.
"Yeah, maybe she could teach a thing or two to you, Mike." Angela closed her binder with a smirk as her cheek dimpled on one side. She seemed pleased with her quick wit in the moment, which caused me to let out a soft giggle. She heard me and offered a shy smile at me, mouthing "sorry," but I waved it off. She was much too sweet.
"How did the study group session go this weekend?" I asked, biting into my deli sandwich.
"Oh! We got through a lot!" Jessica said, then continued about the subjects they touched and the amount of note cards they had gone through and the need for new highlighters and pens in the process. I listened intently as Angela had her own small polite conversation with Ben about the weather that she had hoped for the coming week.
"Why didn't she want to sit with us today?" I heard a whine coming from the Cullen table again. I did my best to not look in their direction, but I pin-pointed the voice to Alice. It was clear of her intentions when she had been in no need to lower her voice in much softer tones from me when usually their low conversations were drowned throughout the crowded room.
"Because she has friends, Alice," Edward replied. I could bluntly hear the roll of his eyes.
"Nonsense!" Alice pouted. "We could be her friends, too."
"She speaks very fondly of you," he snorted. "No need to worry."
"Oh, I know," The excitement in her voice was clear, and I could almost feel her lingering stare on me as a smile drew brightly across her cheeks. "I just don't want her to not be motivated to join us from time to time." She sighed.
"Maybe you should try and invite yourself over to her table and intermingle with the humans," Emmett said, mockingly.
I stilled as a flush was draping over me. I snapped my neck towards her direction, narrowing my eyes at her, but she only held an amused and eager smile on her lips. I could see that she wasn't planning on the risky action of joining us, and clearly was still adjoined to her seat. But her face altered into her dubious pout when I continued to linger at her with no response. It was almost maddening the effect she had when used it.
Alice waved her hand over towards me to come join them, and Edward looked over his shoulder at me with an apologetic expression. I mustered myself to ignore the bottom lip jutting out, and shook my head at her with a smug expression, signaling a 'no,' and turned around to attune myself back into the conversation of the table that had moved on to Jessica and Ethan talking about the pool party that was coming up. They decided on having it next weekend on Saturday since it was supposed to be sunny, and we all agreed to it.
"Wait, I thought we were planning on going to La Push Ocean Park next weekend?" Mike asked, looking over at Tyler and Eric. Immediately I frowned. I knew that if that had been the plan instead, I would have had to decline the invitation.
"The water will be cold anyways and Ethan's got a heated pool," Tyler replied, patting Ethan on his shoulder blade, causing him to blush shyly.
I asked Ethan if it were okay if I invited one of my friends from La Push, which caused his expression to alter into a slight frown, but he said it would be fine. Angela shyly brought up the idea of inviting Quil and Embry as well, looking at me if that was okay, which Ethan also agreed to. Apparently, the party wasn't as small as I thought it would be and he had invited a lot of his friends from his art club and others from the basketball team. I wondered if the Cullens were invited but assumed not. He mentioned that his parents knew about the party idea but mentioned they wouldn't be in town during that weekend since they needed to go to Seattle for a business trip. He said they probably wouldn't mind if we had the party on that date if there was no alcohol involved and if he made sure the house was cleaned the next day before they came home. I was now skeptical of what Charlie would think of a high school party without parental supervision, and frowned at the thought that Angela and I may not be able to go.
"Can my parents still talk to yours?" Angela asked, looking nervously at him.
"Yeah, that won't be a problem," Ethan replied nonchalantly, picking at his food. "Just glad we picked out a date finally so I can inform them." He looked up at me. "I know your dad is a cop, but will he let you go?"
I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth, thinking of the different possibilities of answers from Charlie. He most likely would ask many questions about it since he is the chief and would want information.
"I'm not sure," I murmured. "Can you give me your house phone number so I can give it to him in case he intends to call them?"
"Yeah!" Ethan beamed at me, quickly pulling on the zipper of his backpack, and grabbing out a scratch piece of paper and a pen. He looked up at me again, and to the rest of the table, darting his eyes between the rest of us.
"Do you guys need it, too?" He asked, nervously. Most of the table agreed, and Ethan handed out several slips with his number on it.
Angela and Mike walked with me to biology class, and I could almost feel the tension coming off Edward as he followed behind me. I briefly glanced over my shoulder to peek at him, but his face held no expression.
We took our seats in biology where Mr. Banner briefly went over some more material for the first ten minutes of class and advised us to use our time to study with our partner for tomorrow's test. I flipped through my binder of the different sections we had gone through, grazing over some of the highlighted parts and bulleted points. Edward pretended to study, leaning back in his seat as he would look back over at me and back to his notes frequently. I wondered again if my menstruation cycle was affecting him at all with our close proximity, but it didn't seem to.
"Hi," I said, holding my nose down towards my notes.
"Hi," he replied. I tried to contain the smile that was trying to form on my cheeks as his velvet voice graced through my ears.
"How're you?"
"I'm fine, Bella. Polite of you to ask," he smirked. "And how're you?"
"Busy studying," I murmured. "And you are distracting me, Edward. I suggest you stay quiet," I hissed playfully.
"Well, don't allow me to get in your way of academic success," he snorted.
"I can still hear you," I mocked.
He held his hands up beside him in sign of surrender and turned himself towards me as he leaned against the wall of the classroom next to our desk. He flicked the back of his pen several times, clearly trying to persuade my attention. I only glanced up at him once, seeing the playful smile on his face. I rolled my eyes at him but couldn't stifle my own grin.
"Something on your mind, Mr. Cullen?" I raised my eyebrow at him, putting down my highlighter.
He placed his finger up to his lips, signaling silence to me. I humorously scoffed at him.
"You're unbelievable," I told him. "You could be studying, too, you know."
He chuckled. "I've taken this class many times," he whispered.
I looked blankly at him. Many times? "Science changes every day," I added.
"That's correct, but the one in this book," he tapped his pen onto the hardcover. "Has stayed relatively the same for quite some time now."
I shut my binder closed and leaned my elbows onto the counter.
"Edward? How many times have you gone through high school?" I asked, now fully paying attention to him as I twisted a strand of my hair between my fingertips.
"Mm, plentiful number of times," he flashed his sideways smile. "And two medical degrees to top it off."
I widened my eyes in awe and shock at him. Two medical degrees? Why on Earth would he put himself through high school when he could instead be using his degree to do something good like Carlisle?
He narrowed his eyes at me, but they softened again. "With the appearance of my age, it's difficult to be persuasive enough to be able to put it into use. Besides," the octave of his whisper lowered as his face fell into reproach. "I don't have the same control that Carlisle has."
"I would believe that you do," I responded, staring back at him.
He shook his head, holding in a chuckle. "You are placing your false beliefs on me, Miss Swan."
The bell rang for the end of class and Edward had promptly grabbed my backpack before I did and put my binder inside. He stood up, swinging it over his shoulder as he held onto his own. He moved behind my seat and placed his footing next to the desk with his hand held out to me. I stared up at him, feeling shy of the possible gazes from the other students in the room. I knew Angela probably would be watching us right now and would question me later about how 'complicated' my relationship with Edward really was, but I didn't dare to look her way.
"I don't bite, Bella," Edward said, flashing his canines at me. I silently gasped, shaking the shock away and placed my hand into his as he helped pull me out of my chair. He was becoming bolder with me and showing his humorous side. I couldn't hold back the blush that was forming across my cheeks as I kept my head low walking out of the classroom in front of him.
Stop it, Bella.
-o-
I had work after school today, so after saying goodbye to Mike in gym class, and getting changed back into my regular clothes, I quickly headed out of the gymnasium with my backpack clutched to me and briskly walked towards the parking lot and to my truck. I winced when the truck fired up as I turned my key in the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot, trying to distract myself from my thoughts.
I got home, put on my scrubs, and tied my hair up into a messy ponytail, tightening it with a second hair-tie. I grabbed the cloth bag of books for the facility before I glanced at the mirror and saw that my contacts had lasted another full day. I smiled at myself and headed down the stairs back to my truck. I pressed play on the CD player, featuring Linkin Park and drove out of the neighborhood and towards the nursing home.
"Bella!" Paige exclaimed. "Look at you, girl! Hiding the sun all to yourself, huh?"
I shrugged teasingly, placing down the cloth bag next to my seat as I sat down.
"How was your weekend, Bella?" Ellen smiled warmly at me.
"It was good," I grinned. "Hung out with a few friends from school. How was yours?"
She rolled her eyes with exasperation. "The husband never can do a single damn load of laundry. I swear, my baby girl did not have a single pair of clean socks."
"Awh," I expressed my sincerity. "I'm sorry. It's all done now, though, right?"
"Yeah," she snorted. "Thanks to me."
"Ellen is a super mom," Paige expressed fondly. "Hurry up, fire up your computer!"
Oh! My new login. I hastily pressed the power button onto the computer and waited for it as it stirred and hummed. The screen finally turned bright blue with a new login under the title of Swan. I looked at it with repressed pride seeing it on the screen. Ellen and Paige clapped together in unison.
"Now you're officially a part of the team," Paige grinned. "Without further ado, let me be the one to bestow upon you your first paycheck!" She leaned down, opening a folder with my name on it in the filing cabinet, and pulled out a white envelope, handing it to me with excitement.
"Paige," I looked at her humorously. "This isn't my first ever paycheck."
"No, but it is the first one handed to you from me," she sneered, proud of herself. I shook my head at her, placing the paycheck into my purse.
The rest of the evening went by as usual. Paige and her girlfriend had a handful this weekend with their new kitten who had jumped on one of their shelves in the kitchen and knocked over her grandmother's antique teapot. She said she couldn't blame the kitten or be upset with it because it didn't know better, and how she clearly has not fully kitten-proofed their home. She mentioned that she did end up purchasing a squirt bottle for the next time she sees her jumping on things.
Visitors crowded the lounge area as residents and guests spoke fondly with their relatives and friends. I found the opportune time to start placing the new books I purchased onto the shelf. Mr. Rhodes looked eagerly but I shook my head at him with remorse that I hadn't been able to require his sinful magazines quite yet. I stared around the room, looking to see if Mrs. Weaver had joined the rest of the crowd, but as expected she had not. Maybe I will go visit her tonight and continue our conversation and ask her if she knew when the next time Abigail would come visit her.
I said hello to a few of the residents as I walked away, taking my seat back at the front desk. Mr. Taylor walked by asking if I still had the company credit card on me with the receipts, which I graciously gave back to him with an added 'thank you.' He asked what I had purchased for them which I had read over the receipt for him, and he agreed it was a nice enough selection. I told him I could go hunt further in different bookstores, but he said that he had decided to purchase a subscription to several magazines to be renewed weekly for the residents. It was more than kind of him to do and I was sure that they would be thrilled to see the new shipment come in.
I opened the resident file on my computer, pulling open Mrs. Weavers visitor list to see if she had anyone come visit her while I was gone, but only one name came up. Morgan— with no last name listed. I stared at the name, trying to figure out if it had been a possible alias of Abigail, but had come to the conclusion it was not. There was no photo ID attached to the file, but the woman was said to be forty-four, turning forty-five soon, with the birth year of 1960. There wasn't much more on the file listed. The address was blank, the contactable phone number was listed under private for emergencies only. I silently gawked, staring at the year on the file. From what Mrs. Weaver had told me, Abigail was twenty-three in 1980, so Morgan must have been her younger sister she spoke of.
The evening was dying down as the visitors began checking out of the lobby one-by-one. Paige let out an exhausted sigh, leaning back in her chair, closing out the files on her computer of the check-out list. She stood up, grabbing the broom from the closet and started sweeping her area, making small conversation as she yawned frequently throughout. She mentioned she was up all-night last night with Dhara because she had gotten a stomach bug and was throwing up. A glimmer of light sparkled in her eye as she smiled when she explained how she took care of her and gave her a cold bath to clean her up. After the bath, she said the nausea passed and Dhara fell asleep easily.
I shut down the computers, grabbing my purse and keys and headed towards the front entrance of the doors, wondering if Mrs. Weaver was still awake. I thought I would check after Paige pulled out of the parking lot while I waited in my truck which I pulled a little way down the road and into a bare spot on the side of the road out of sight of the facility. I hopped out and headed towards the back of the building, counting the windows of the rooms till I made it to Mrs. Weaver. The light was still on as I peaked in, and she glanced over at me with a smile. I pulled the window open, climbing inside.
"Hi, Mrs. Weaver," I said shyly, shutting the window behind me.
"Hello, dear. Glad to see you are back," she grinned. "How was your weekend?"
"It was good," I nodded, pacing my way towards the couch, folding my legs underneath myself. "How was yours?"
She held up a book in her hand. "Nothing like a good read for the weekend," she chuckled. "To what do I owe the visit, Bella? Have you spoken to your father, yet?"
I shook my head, reminded of my conversation with Edward about it.
"And why not?"
"It's just not the right time," I muttered, heaving out a heavy sigh. "Maybe when I leave for college."
"But that's not for a while," she spoke with a confused expression.
"I know, but I think he will handle it better by then. I want him to have as much time with human Bella as he can."
She nodded. "I understand, but you are going to college? How will that work with your young un-aging appearance?"
I shrugged. "I can just say that I take really good care of my skin. There are a lot of people who look younger than they are, plus I doubt many will ask."
"There are," she replied with a chuckle, taking her glasses off and placing them down onto her bedside table next to her book. "But that lie can only take you so far."
"How does Abigail get away with it?" I asked.
"She travels a lot," she nodded, sucking her lips together, and clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "She doesn't have a lot of wealth, so she travels on foot mainly if she doesn't have enough money to put in her gas tank. Sometimes she stays in places longer than others getting small side jobs for money and then leaves to go somewhere else after."
"Do you not help her out with funds?" I asked skeptically. She seemed to love her daughter fully, and it would surprise me if she did not.
"Oh, honey," she placed her palm down on her thigh. "I have offered plenty of times, but she assures me she does not need it."
"You said she visits sometimes once a month or every two months," I noted. "Does she ever get lonely being on her own? Or has she possibly reunited with her creator, maybe?"
"Not that I recall," she replied. "She hasn't mentioned seeing her creator since she returned home to me the first time. And no, she doesn't find herself becoming lonely often. She spends most of her time tracking criminals, so it occupies her mind a lot, but I still do worry."
"Any mother would," I replied. I needed to get to the point. "I saw that you had a visitor this weekend under the name of Morgan. Was that your youngest daughter?" I looked up at her, assessing her expression to my question, but her smile broadened.
"Yes, that was my other little girl," she nodded, looking down at her hands. "It was very good to see her."
"Does she not visit often?"
"Not as I normally would like, but she has a family of her own she has to take care of, besides, she's the one who pays for me to stay here and makes sure I get the proper treatment."
"Oh," that caused me worry. I don't think I could put Renee or Charlie in a nursing home. If anything, I would most likely have them live with me instead of sending them away if they were healthy enough for me to take care of them properly. And Mrs. Weaver seemed as healthy as a horse.
"Don't you think too hard about it, honey. I asked to live here," she reassured. "I told her I wanted to be able to see more of Abigail before I pass on, but it seems I had more time than I thought," she laughed. "I had cancer," she spoke. "It was only stage one, but the doctors believed that I wouldn't make it through the treatment. But here I am, alive and kicking."
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know," I expressed concern.
"Oh, don't be, darling. They take very good care of me, and I do enjoy having a place to myself, but I also enjoy the friends I have here."
"So, why did you move here of all places? Georgia is a long way away."
"It was affordable, and while I was living with my daughter, Morgan's husband decided he wanted to live relatively close to his new job, so we moved here. It didn't take long after the move that I decided to reside here, about a month or so."
"But why would you have to move in here to see Abigail? Does Morgan not know what she is?" I asked, noting how nosy I must have sounded with my continued questions.
"She knows," she sighed, but fell silent with her words as her face fell into somber.
"She didn't approve," I suggested.
"No," she shook her head. "Morgan saw Abigail as a murder. As a child she looked up to Abigail for a long time, seeing her as this up-and-coming shining star." She chuckled through her silent tears, dapping a tissue to her nose. "Now their relationship is much different, and Abigail isn't allowed to see her nephew anymore."
That didn't make sense to me. "But they are family."
Mrs. Weaver nodded. "You do know of the bond that forms with those you care for, correct?"
"Yes."
"Abigail didn't form that bond with her nephew," she replied with dismal. "And had almost attacked him one day. Abigail normally has control on her hunger, but she had gone a couple weeks without feeding when she found herself lacking on seeking her next victim."
"She didn't form a bond with her own nephew?"
"Abigail has grown colder and distant in her years. I wonder if it is because of her years of isolation, or if it is because of her seeing the world differently with all the crime that is committed that she has watched and done her best to prevent over the years that has turned her this way. She held mostly onto her closest familial attachments than she has to the newer ones, but it's not just with her nephew, it's the same way with Morgan's husband, as well. So, she stays away from them, and Morgan has made it prudent for her to keep her distance."
"That must be hard for her," I whispered, glancing down at my clasped hands.
"Abigail understands. Her visits here mean as much to her as they do to me. She has changed, but I can see that her love for me has not." She smiled adoringly at the thought of her daughter, looking out towards the window. "I'm sure you're wondering when she will visit next."
I nodded, looking back up at her. "Is it soon?"
"Should be," she replied. "I think she could really help you, Bella. Offer her experiences to you that your creator had failed to do."
"I hope so," I replied softly, going over the information in my head and the possibility of what more Abigail could offer me, but my mind drifted back to Morgan. "So, Morgan and her family live here in Forks?"
Mrs. Weaver nodded.
"I noticed on the visitor list that she didn't provide a last name. Why's that?"
"She likes to keep herself private from the list as much as possible. With Abigail being a visitor of mine, she wanted to make sure there was no contact information or heavy details of herself that would possibly lead Abigail to her family. I had to accept the minimalism of the information they allowed for her to exclude, but her name and age was important to them to have on there."
I understood her misgiving, but what came next was my own.
"Have you spoken to her about me?" I asked slowly with anxious worry.
She shook her head. "No dear. If I mentioned there was another succubus running around town, she would pack up and leave immediately."
"But as her mother, wouldn't you want to keep her and her family safe?" I protested in an unconventional but whispered shout. "I've killed before."
I wasn't sure what my protest was for. I had hoped that she wouldn't have mentioned me for my own secrecy and protection, but the feeling of a mother not worrying for her child's family had irked me.
"And so has my daughter, but no. Honey, if I'm being honest, you have more brightness in your spirit than my Abigail does. I'm also aware that you mentioned that you hunt out of town at a park," she snorted, fanning herself with a fit of chuckles. "I think my family is perfectly safe with you here."
"You're placing a lot of hope in me that I don't deserve," I muttered. False beliefs.
"Dear, when was the last time that you fed?" She looked at me with curiosity.
"Friday night," I replied. "I went to Port Angeles to pick up books for the shelves in the lobby and had run into a group of men in an alley who were planning… horrible things for a young woman."
She placed her palm under her chin, hiding her bright smile behind her parted fingers. "Bella the vigilante," she whispered, shaking her head with amusement. "How did it feel?"
I couldn't lie. "Thrilling…"
"Any remorse for them?" She asked.
"None."
"Good, they deserve none of it, either."
-o-
As I sat in the park, tossing feed to the ducks who were enjoying their late time snack, thoughts continued to surface my mind over my last conversation with Mrs. Weaver. It was true, it was a thrilling feeling to have taken down the criminals who had cornered that girl, and who had done so many times to previous women before her. But I remembered the feeling afterwards. The feeling of not being able to capture my breath from the shock and the realization of what those two men were. They were rapists. Not the very ones I had dealt with before, but they were rapists. The same kind of criminals who took my life from me.
I remember the tortured feeling I had felt but exhilarated all the same from all the energy that flowed through me. Was it the extended sexual desire that Lonnie had felt that had brought such savory energy to my lips? It would make sense for it to be so considering what I am. And what I was truly a being that preys on sexual desires from others. But what I couldn't shake from my thoughts of the images that were formed between him and I. The red room and the bed. The risky outfits that he and I were both placed in. The setting. None of it seemed to have been of my own desires. I have never come across myself ever being fascinated in the art of BDSM or situations of myself being such a dominatrix. It was completely odd for such an image to have formed in my mind of the events that transpired in the illusion between us, and still I had gone through with it, acting out the sequences of the screenplay.
I knew that I had the gift of mind manipulation but increasing that acceleration of being able to form images in my mind that were not of my own desires that Lonnie had also been able to see, was news to me. That was outlandish. I sighed, dangling my legs on the park bench as I continued tossing the seed to the ducks. I hoped Abigail would come soon and shed some light on the subject for me. Maybe she didn't have the same gift and wouldn't be able to offer much insight, but she must possibly have an answer for me.
But then there was Edward who showed up during the post after-math. Cradling me in his arms as he expressed worry. Worry for me. He didn't show any signs of anger or disgust for what I had done, but instead had made sure the mess was cleaned up for me and held me in my truck on the way home to his house where he continued to care for me.
And there he was again, in my room after the acceptance of the treaty, opening to me more than I had noticed from him before. The way he touched my skin. The way he lingered for far too long than he needed to. I wanted to push my thoughts away from him. Away from his parting tell-all. Away from what my blood to him could possibly mean. It had almost allowed me to consider the idea of allowing myself to be comfortable enough to let Carlisle test my blood. I wanted the answer. I wanted to know what I meant to Edward.
I went home after finishing my Tuesday routine and climbed through my window, being as silent as possible as to not awake Charlie. I could hear his loud snores echoing through the halls, and shimmied myself into my room, grabbing my book bag and collapsing with it on my bed. I knew I needed to study for the test tomorrow, so I quickly pulled out my biology binder, glancing over the highlighted and indented material, then proceeded with the rest that I had already understood the most of.
Studying in the late hours of my room would not have been beneficial to me in a regular sense, but I had felt contempt with my knowledge of the information already and decided to place it away when I realized my thoughts were furthest from my study material.
I pulled out my cell phone from my back pocket, glazing down at it continuously. I pushed the idea away that flickered through my mind and headed towards my closet to change out of run-away clothes and into pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt instead. I wasn't tired, and I knew that much. I had another couple of hours before I needed to doze off.
I lied down in my bed had thought briefly of what Mrs. Weaver had told me. She said she had full belief in me that I would not cause jeopardy to her family, and then continued to laugh at my usual hunting routine in a park outside of town which I rolled my eyes at as if I knew any better at the time. Even Edward and his family placed hope onto me, placing their encouragement that I could control myself, the same as Mrs. Weaver had placed trust in me. It didn't make sense. I was a killer. I had killed before in this town and killed two in my previous hometown. Why would these people place such false beliefs for me when I knew that I could slip from my place of hierarchy so handily?
It was noted that Mrs. Weaver had a glimmer of hope in her eyes when she heard of my actions in Port Angeles. The way she spoke of me as a vigilante. Maybe she saw this as the best scenario for me as it was for her daughter, but it was in conclusion that she also had pointed out that her daughter became cold and distant, and being a martyr was a possible cause to that. I didn't want that. I didn't want to become cold and distained eventually, nor did I want to kill innocent people, either. If I had the choice between the two, the choice would effortlessly go to targeting the criminals. But what were my other choices?
The redhead woman with a smoker's lung at the park had come to mind. Maybe I could target smokers and then I wouldn't have to continue being an executioner, after all. Push my own needs of tasteful energy aside and place my values onto sustaining human life.
If I were to choose that path, I wondered what would become of my self-control. Vilinsea had been able to quench her hunger without her feeding to lead to massacre, but that was through self-control. Choosing to go after smokers in the aspect to teach myself control would leave me unsatisfied with the taste of tobacco on my tongue. There would be no rewarding flavor, no satisfaction besides the burning to lessen and my strength to stay constant with the repay of preserving continuous lives at my own hand.
I sighed, leaning back against the pillow on my bed. I found myself clutching onto the cellphone again, running my thumb over the buttons, hoping for some alert to distract me from my spiraling contradicting thoughts, but nothing came, so instead, I opted myself into a forced slumber.
-o-
A/N
Like I said before, you are all allowed to be upset with me for not updating for such a long time… I just am having issues believing in myself when it comes to continuing. But I took my ADHD medication, and sat down and finally wrote you a chapter, along with the next two chapters written in my outline that would be easily and ready to type, well, including the need to add detail to it. As always, I hope to see at least 10 reviews before I post again… and… Until next time!(: