Edward's POV
My feet carry me forward, stepping on squishy grass as I get closer to my spot, my meadow that I like to go to when I need to be alone. The very place where I wanted to bring Bella during the day but never got the chance since we stopped for ice cream before going to her house.
With the hopeful thoughts of sharing this beautiful place with her one day soon, my feet carry me onward. Over the uneven ground I go to the unmarked path I found one cloudy day in July, when I needed a break from the voices that bombard my brain when I'm around everyone but Bella. Though I didn't know her back then, of course.
The sky opens up and rain gushes out like there's no tomorrow. If I wasn't familiar with the wet weather of the Olympic Peninsula, I would probably assume there was a flood coming and I should either get to higher ground or build an ark. But I have no plans to do either. It rains all the time here; I'm used to it. I keep running.
Rain pours down on me as I try to run from what's bothering me. It's not working but still I don't slow down. I can't.
My head is a mess, and my clothes are soaked, and sticking to my skin. I'm glad I'm not human, if I were I would probably be freezing and catch a cold. They seem to be very fragile, something I never really gave a thought to before meeting Bella.
Thoughts of my Bella swirl around my head, attempting to knock the hunting images out of my brain. But yet, they can't be removed. They want to stay though I want them to go. Nothing I do seems to get my mind at peace.
The sensation of drowning in a sea full of sound and no light comes crashing down on me. Rain falls down in thick, heavy waves, spattering the dirt and coating my clothes. Oh, how I wish I were out at sea with a lighthouse to guide me.
From far away, a lonely fox yips and so do a few more that seem to be further out than the first. Those small animals are no concern to me, nor am I to them. I'm not thirsty, they will not be my meal.
I keep running without really knowing when I'll stop. My only wish is to get as far away from my father as possible. Though I'm sure he's home by now. I wonder what my mother will say if he should inform her of what he chose to think about while talking to me. Will she be on my side and say he lost his ever-loving mind?
I do not know.
If I'm being perfectly honest with myself, I have to admit I'm mad at him. It was one thing for him to inform me about sex, as fathers do. But another thing entirely to drop the bombshell that he and my mother participate in such things. I NEVER needed to know about that and now that I do, I'm stuck with it.
A rock cracks beneath my foot as I carry on. I run at full speed like someone's chasing me, but no one is. I'm alone with no one around for miles. It's just me and my thoughts. Wonderful.
My breath is thick and heavy, not from strenuous activity or even exhaustion, but from the ever-present terror that haunts me no matter how far and fast I run. I cannot escape the second-hand images - as revolting as they are - will forever be etched inside my brain.
I'm literally scared for all of eternity.
I openly shiver.
I'm just a boy who's not normal in the slightest. I was dealt a poor hand, a sorry excuse for a gift. Mind reading.
Seeing inside other people's minds is nothing new. It's been a part of me since my first memories upon waking up to this half-life. I'm well adapted to my gift. It's as much a part of me as the color of my hair is. Though it can definitely seem like a curse at times, especially when my father had the audacity to think about unholy acts with my mother. I know it was unintentional, but it still doesn't change anything. He should have known better than to not think about such things around me.
Raindrops pelt down on me. I continue to run through the forest, trying with all my might not to think about the hurricane he set in motion.
Did he calculate what he had done? The hurt, the pain, the trauma he inflicted on me, all because he believes it's acceptable to do that at his age. And my poor mother. She is too old to actually want to do that.
For God sakes! Both of them are in their thirties. What kind of parents engage in such horrific activities anyways?
It's not natural.
Before tonight, I was never aware that my parents practiced something so…so . . . . Gruesome. Not to mention unholy.
I'm guessing now they have always made an effort to conceal their dreadful thoughts from me. Very unfortunate he had a moment of weakness and let his thoughts slip.
My stomach feels as though it's in a tight knot. I come to my meadow, going right to a tall tree, and finally end my run.
With my back pressed against the tree, I want to scream and shout. The desire is strong, but I don't give into temptation. What good will that do?
It won't take me back to the time where I was blissfully innocent of such things. Or even make me feel comfortable to go home tonight, where I will run into the two people, I will never be able to look at the same way again.
I don't want to go home. Yet I don't want to remain in my meadow all night, running in circles, more or less. That would be horrible.
Suddenly I get the urge to be near someone pure, sweet, and kind. The very person who I know will hold me, making me feel safe and warm while demons dance and monsters near sneer inside my mind.
Under the canopy of leaves where I'm safe from the rain, I stand watching the thick water droplets fall, creating a curtain between me and the world. From where I stand, the world is wet, and I am dry. Or at least, not as soaked as I had been moments ago.
Truly the falling water doesn't bother me, I don't mind getting wet, in fact I usually like it very much. But right now it's nice to have a break from the rain. Therefore, I have no plans to move from my spot under the tree.
I take out my phone and press in the number I need. My lifeline, as it seems.
The phone rings. I wait, holding it to my ear.
Hope and salvation are on my side. The ringing stops as quickly as it started.
"Hello?" It's the voice I was hoping to hear.
"Bella," My throat is tight, and my voice sounds strange. "It's me, Edward." I add for good measure.
"Edward?" Bella gasps in a whisper. "You sound different. Are you all right?"
I'm aware I don't sound like me, that's why I added my name.
"No." I choke out, answering her question.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" She sounds frightened. Right away I feel ashamed for worrying her.
"No, I'm not hurt." I speak truthfully.
She starts to say something. Another question perhaps, but I don't wait to answer it, or even to hear it. Instead I quickly cut her off.
"Something happened after I left your house." My voice is trembling, and my eyes are stinging. "I don't want to go home. I just can't."
"What happened?" She wonders.
I inhale. My breath is shaky. This situation is very embarrassing to speak of, really not a story I want to retell. It's definitely not a usual occurrence. After all, what will she think if I shall speak of the incident that will forever live inside my brain? Will she think I'm overreacting and turn me away? Or will she be understanding and offer me comfort?
With no answers to offer myself, no real way of knowing I begin to overthink everything. Overthinking is in my nature and I'm quite good at it too. Even though I wish I weren't.
A minute of silence goes by with me overanalyzing every single aspect of everything that has passed and what might happen next. I'm as cold inside as cold can be. It's not from me being a vampire and therefore cold by nature, but more of a symbolic type of cold.
I'm freaking out about having the horrible images of my parents naked bodies in my mind. It's absolutely disgusting. If only there were a way to cleanse my mind and free my soul.
"Edward," Bella's sweet voice breaks through my thoughts. "Whatever is bothering you, you can always tell me. I'm here for you."
"I don't… I don't think I can." I struggle to get the words out.
"I don't know what you are going through right now since you won't say. But always know I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'm here for you." Her words are a promise.
An emotion I'm unfamiliar with and therefore have no name for, invades me. My chest feels tight, and my head feels heavy.
"Can I please come over? Please?" I say in a rush.
"Now?"
"Yes. You said whatever I need, you'll be there for me." I remind her.
My sentence sounds like I'm testing her but truly I'm not. I hope she doesn't think I am.
"I did say that. Didn't I?" Her words are light and there's a smile in her voice.
"Yeah." Is all I say.
There's a pause and I hope she'll say yes. I long to be near her. But if she says no, I won't invade her space. I won't break into a room to watch her sleep, or anything else of the sort if she doesn't invite me in.
"It's late." She finally says, and my heart sinks.
"That's okay, I'm sorry for asking. I shouldn't have." I sadly say.
"No, I mean of course you can come over." She speaks rapidly. "Edward, I'll never turn you away in your time of need. But what am I supposed to tell my dad? I have to go to bed soon, he won't approve of me having visitors at this time of night."
"Who says we have to tell him anything?" I say with a hopeful edge. "I'll meet you in your room. He'll never know I'm there."
"Sure I do. I have to say something to him." She insists. "You walk through the front door and he'll want to know why you are here."
Aha! Now I understand her dilemma. She's thinking like a human because she is one, but I am not. Doors are not the only entrance for my kind. At least not for my siblings and me.
"I'll go through your window." I quickly explain. "He'll never be the wiser. Just make sure to unlock your window for me and I'll meet you in your room."
"Okay." Her tone is a mixture of excitement and worry.
I imagine her biting her lower lip and begin to wonder if she's doubting me.
Before either of us can say another word, I hear heavy footsteps on the other end of the phone. They are clunky, tired sounding somehow, and getting closer. Since Bella only lives with one parent and has no siblings, it's not a mystery to figure out who the footfalls belong to.
"Bells, do you have any idea what time it is?" Charlie's voice echoes through the receiver.
"Eight fifty?" Bella says this in the form of a question.
"Yes. It's time to get ready for bed." Her dad says. "Who are you talking to anyway?"
Bella is silent. Does she not know what to say?
"If it's Edward," Charlie says, sounding a bit annoyed. "Tell him you'll see him at school tomorrow. For now, you need to hang up the phone, go upstairs, and get ready for bed."
"It's not him, Dad." Her words are fast and louder than necessary. "It's a telemarketer trying to get me to buy a new roof."
Well, that was totally random.
I'm surprised by her obvious lie, even more surprised when her dad buys into it, mumbling about not needing a new roof.
"Here, give me that." He grumbles.
"Dad, I'm handling it." Bella's tone is persistent.
There's rustling on the other end of the receiver. I remain perfectly silent, not sure what will happen next.
"I already told you people," Charlie's unhappy voice booms through the line. "My roof is fine, I just replaced it last year. Take me off of your list and stop calling here!"
And with that, the line goes dead.
I'm left listening to the dial tone. Charlie hung up on me, ending my call with Bella. He assumed I was a telemarketer, became angry, and hung up on me.
Could my night get any weirder?
How odd that Bella's fib made her father so mad. I wonder why. Is it possible that Charlie has an underlying anger issue with telephone salespeople? Maybe. Though I'm really not sure. I truly have no real answers to offer myself.
Oddly shrugging that off, I shut my phone and shove it in my pocket.
I move from my spot under the tree and step into the pouring rain. I begin to run at full speed with a destination in mind. I'm now going back to Forks, to Bella's house where she awaits me.
I hope once I'm with her my night will be a bit more normal. More pleasant too.
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Thanks for reading. :)))
For those of you who guessed Edward was going to Bella's house, you were absolutely right!
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