Needless to say, sleep evaded me.

Seeing as things never go my way, I didn't get a wink of sleep throughout the seven-hour flight, which ended up being nearly eight hours. Sitting with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company was depressing as hell, but somehow, I survived. What I originally thought to be my saving grace was actually my worst nightmare.

Looking out the window, or simply pulling the shade down and knowing what I would see, only cemented my fear of flying. The nice lady who I guessed to be in her early fifties noticed how tense and anxious I was, and engaged me in small, inconsequential conversation. If her goal was to keep me distracted, then it worked.

When we finally landed, I was aware of two things. One: I didn't experience full-blown panic attack levels when I became consciously aware of how high we were in the sky. Two: I'd only flown a couple of times in my life, all of them too long ago to remember, so the popping of the ears that everyone described was something I - fortunately? - didn't experience.

The couple that sat next to me on the flight - Erb and Glyneth - stood up when the plane finally touched down at Reykjavík Airport in Iceland. As I looked out the window and saw the barren runway, the first thought I had was: For a place with the word 'ice' in it, there wasn't much ice. Total cliché, right?

Now that I was here, past my doomsday date as I had come to mentally call my exile from my country, I had no clue what to do. I had to play it safe since I didn't know how much was on the card Victoria gave me, and since it was from her, I don't know how reliable it is. My first goal was to find my own source of income and rely on my own money in case Victoria decided to make my life more difficult than it has already become.

I hailed a cab immediately after I got outside, which, phew, it may not have ice but it sure as hell was chilly. My teeth started chattering and didn't stop even after I threw myself in the cab. The official language was decidedly not English, but being a cab driver, the woman could speak many languages. Since she seemed to stick to local areas, I asked her to take me to the nearest - not expensive but still nice, were my exact words - hotel.

She did. I wanted to stay near the airport should the need arise to make a quick getaway. It had good ratings, even showing me online with her phone. It was only eighty dollars a night, which was fantastic. The U.S. was stingy, with very few companies willing to work for the greater good instead of filling their own pockets.

I thanked the woman before I climbed out of the cab and hurried inside the building. It was freezing, and even if no one was after me, I knew I wouldn't be staying here long. I was built for the heat, especially since my skin refuses to either tan or burn in the sun.

After booking a room, I hopped in the elevator that would take me to one of the top floors. I didn't care about money when it came to good heating. I'd worry about it later. It was still incredibly early in the morning so few people were out and about.

My room was right next to the elevator, to my luck. I swiped the key card over the lock and pushed the door open once I heard a beep.

The room was of decent size considering I was only one person. The carpet was beige and the walls were a light grey. A small bathroom was tucked in the corner with the rest of the room dedicated to the bed and living space.

I set my suitcase against the bed while I searched for the remote for the TV. It was highly unlikely - especially since I was in another country - that I would be able to check the news for tiny old Forks. The most narrowed-down news channel I could find covered the whole of Washington state.

Perching myself on the end of the bed, I listened with rapt attention as different news anchors took over for different stories. I hadn't bought a phone or a laptop, and I was regretting that choice. Those were things I probably wouldn't have access to for some time.

As I sat, listening to a young woman drone on about a pile-up, I wondered if Victoria had followed me. Did she know where I was going? Did she have some lackey follow me? Was this imaginary goon a newborn? I didn't think so if you took into account the amount of planning that she had done to execute this plan. Sending a hunger-crazed newborn to keep watch seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

Only when the reporter changed did I zone back in. My ears cleared just in time to hear a voice I wish I didn't. They were taking state news? How long before it became national? Not long, was my guess if I knew the Cullens.

Carlisle was on the screen, standing behind a makeshift podium, and at the bottom of the TV, there were several mics being shoved in his direction. Standing slightly back and to the side was Edward. He was… well, he looked incredibly depressed and as if he wanted to be anywhere other than on camera. His face was pained; the same expression that he had worn when he made me promise not to hurt myself just before he left. I know now that plea in particular was the only moment in the conversation where he had meant what he said.

The only other Cullen besides Edward and Carlisle was Esme. While Edward was behind Carlisle on his right, Esme was on his left, just barely a step backward. I don't really know what I had been expecting - I wasn't expecting to see their faces so soon anyways - but I would've guessed that Alice or maybe Rose would be up there. Not Esme. And the sight of the woman I had come to love and think of as a mother tore me apart.

From the looks of things, the trio had just stepped up, and the story was just beginning. It took me all of two seconds to figure out the reasons behind this particular arrangement. Edward was the worried boyfriend, of course, and Carlisle and Esme were the worried parents. Since Charlie probably didn't even notice I was gone, they must've taken it upon themselves.

While Carlisle spoke, the man shifted and I caught sight of the very visible and very heartbreaking sight of his and Esme's tightly gripped hands. Edward looked frustrated beyond belief. Did he think I purposefully left him? Did he not find my necklace? With a roll of nausea, I realized that he could've horribly misinterpreted my message. And knowing Edward as well as I do…

My hands slid down my face and I groaned. Why didn't I think about this? My gaze landed on his clenched fist when something shone in the camera; my necklace. Any doubt that he hadn't found it vanished. One quick look at his face told me he misread the situation. He believed the necklace was my way of telling him that I was done with him and his family.

I had very conflicting thoughts about this. If he believed that then maybe he wouldn't risk us all by trying to find me. Then I thought of Victoria and wondered what would happen if they did stop. Would she get bored and decide to torture me and kill them after all? How would Victoria react if they didn't take their turn in her game?

Too focused on analyzing the movements on-screen, I only caught the last of Carlisle's words when his gaze miraculously met mine even thousands of miles away. He was looking directly into my eyes, searching the camera as if he could see me from where I sat in my dimly lit hotel room.

"Bella," he said, his tone taking on a hint of desperation. "If you're a-" Alive, he was going to say. "Safe, please let us know." Carlisle glanced over his shoulder towards Edward, who looked seconds away from an emotional breakdown. Though it was not heard I saw his chest and demeanor drop ever-so-slightly. It was a sigh that made him seem his actual age.

To my great surprise, a loud, hiccuping sob erupted from deep inside Edward's chest and Carlisle immediately stood in front of him, his back to the camera, blocking his son's emotions from heartless and greedy reporters. The movement left Esme standing alone and she took the opportunity to step up.

"We love you," she breathed, her eyes watering. It broke my heart to know those tears would never fall. "Please come home."

And then she joined her husband in shielding Edward from the world, walking away. The camera panned over their exit, and I watched as they went inside a random house. It makes sense. Being on TV was already risking exposure, and leading the press directly to their home in the middle of the woods would guarantee their spots on 'Global enemy number 1'. But whose house were they at?

Almost as if answering my thoughts, the camera zoomed out from its closeup on the door. Brows furrowing in confusion, I looked the house over in case my eyes were deceiving me. Nope. I was seeing correctly. They were at Angela's house. How do I know this? A different angle that was closer to the house showed Angela closing the door after they went inside.

I had anticipated the Cullens searching for me. However, it had never crossed my mind that they would somehow recruit Angela's help. And if they included Angela, then that meant Mike as well. It made me wonder about Seth, Leah, and Jacob's involvement as well. Both Mike and Ange knew how much I loved those wolves - even though their true nature was unknown to them - so it would seem suspicious if they didn't help out. Would both groups of my supernatural families put aside their disagreements for the search?

I sighed and clicked the TV off, falling back on the bed. My arms sprawled out on either side of me and I stared at the ceiling.

The weight of the last few days began to dawn upon me.

I had left.

No.

I had been forced to leave. By Victoria.

And because of her, I would never see any of the Cullens or Quileutes or my friends or my parents ever again.

The loss of everyone I had ever loved crashed down on me, attempting to crush my heart. Sobs tore from my chest, and my head quickly began to pound from the tears racing down my cheeks.

My breathing became sporadic as I thought of the fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends I had made in Forks. The hole I had only just started to seal ripped open and the loss and anguish and grief I had felt from the Cullens leaving flooded in, the pain beginning anew.

Knowing that they were out there, searching for me… Knowing that I couldn't reach out and just let them know I'm alright… I couldn't bear it.

I could see their smiles, hear their laughter. Never again.

All that was left were memories.

My rage for Victoria quadrupled.

Ideas of various ways of ending her flashed through my mind and I sat up, realizing that I could not give in to my anger. It was what she wanted. Just because I was royally pissed did not mean I had a right to throw away my morals.

Besides, whether it was the old me or the new me, neither version of myself could commit such an act.

I wonder if my family knew that, too. That I could never willingly leave them. Not without someone pulling my strings behind the scenes.

The news story replayed in my mind on a loop. The Cullens had been running around, utilizing the help of my human friends. There was a good chance that even the Quileutes would be recruited, too.

It warmed my heart to think of such unity.

It was strange to think of the time in my life when I only had Renee. It was hard to believe that was only a few short years ago. It was hard to imagine that I had once despised Forks. Because now everyone and everything I cared about resided there.

In that pathetic little town where the sun never shone.

Who would've thought?

A deranged laugh bubbled from my chest, temporarily replacing the physical manifestation of my all-consuming emotions. The sound of my grief echoed back at me from the nearly empty room. It was such a cold place. There was nothing personal with the room currently occupied.

How could I possibly make a new home for myself without the people who had made Forks a home?

A short, rhythmic knock ceased my cries. "Is everything alright, madam?"

I had carelessly forgotten I was in a hotel. The walls were paper-thin. Color immediately rushed to my cheeks. How many people had heard my outburst?

I sniffled before responding to the man who I assumed was an attendant. "Y-yeah."

"Are you sure?"

Steeling my voice, I replied again, "Yeah."

"Okay." There was a silence during which I could tell the man did not know what to say. "Good day." The thud of his shoes faded as he walked away. It wasn't a surprise that I hadn't heard those shoes the first time.

The interruption was enough to end my tears. Something deep inside me, the part of me that was desperate and determined to protect me from any more heartbreak, hardened. The hole in my heart, the cracks, it all filled and sealed with coal. It sank deep into my body, almost fading into the shadows. My precious treasures, my priceless gems of emotion, had been locked away and thrown into the deepest ocean.

The time for grieving was over and I had to think of the future, however bleak it may be. It was a clinical approach, but I needed to do it this way because my heart had taken too many hits in so little time.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. Several thick strands fell in front of my face and I balked, somehow having forgotten that I had cut and dyed it.

I was in an entirely new environment with entirely new people with an entirely new appearance. No trace of my past to be seen.

Everything was unfamiliar.

My throat, raw from my weeping, itched for a cigarette. Or a drink. But I couldn't have either, since that would theoretically be breaking rule number four.

Damn you, Victoria.

15 - Written: 12/23/21-5/8/22

Posted - 5/8/22

:)