CHAPTER EIGHT
Charlie and Bella stared at each other in silence.
Glass littered the floor, and her bedroom door hung limply from the hinges, the top half of the door laying in the threshold. The cool air from outside filtered in through the shattered window, and the purple curtains floated in the air.
Bella didn't know what to say, didn't know what she could say. There was no way she could explain the current state of her room, at least not in a way that her father would believe.
"Bella?" Charlie said softly, eyes wide. The gun he'd had when he barged into the room hung limply at his side, brushing against his red and black pajama bottoms.
Bella swallowed, untwisting herself from her crosslegged position shakily. "Yeah?"
"What," Charlie stepped even further into the room, only to jerk to a stop as his foot came into contact with glass, the pieces nearly shattering under his feet. "What happened? Are you okay?"
No, she wasn't okay.
Just moments before, she had been filled with the rage, furious in her discovery of the items that Edward had stuffed under her floor. She was so angry with him, but also felt so abandoned, so lonely. She had an entire chunk of her life that she could never, ever share with anyone. She'd never be able to truly vent or let go of the Cullens, and even now, as her father stared at her waiting for an answer, she couldn't help but wonder if Edward was malicious enough to have purposefully put her in a situation where she simply couldn't get over him, because she was bound by the vampire laws to never divulge what she'd learned over the past year.
"Bella?"
Bella started, and muttered, "I, um, there was an...earthquake?" Her voice trailed off pathetically.
"Are you serious right now? Are you seriously trying to convince me that an earthquake hit Forks, and the only room in the house to be affected was yours?"
Bella said nothing.
"Bella," Charlie pleaded, setting his gun down on the ruined desk and reaching for her. Bella let herself get pulled into his arms, and realized that her entire body was shaking. "Bella, talk to me. We agreed to be honest with each other, remember? You know you can tell me anything."
God, she wanted to. But how could she? Telling him about what she had just done would require a deeper explanation, one that would give details about the supernatural world. She was already living on the edge by knowing about the existence of vampires and still being human. The information she'd received from Edward about the Volturi had made it clear that they didn't tolerate humans knowing their secret, and it was one thing for her to be condemned to death. But her father? She couldn't do that to him.
And yet...what else could she do? He'd never let tonight's incident go. Not only was he her father, but he was the goddamn chief of police! He didn't get there by being stupid; eventually, he'd connect the dots.
Bella began to cry. She wanted to tell him so badly, feeling so incredibly alone with the revelation of her powers. She didn't know what was happening to her, why it was happening, or how it was happening. All she knew was that she was dangerous, destructive, and scared.
Charlie hugged her tighter, murmuring what Bella could only assume were comforting words, her face buried in his chest as she lost herself to her thoughts. It was then, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her father, that she made her decision. She would tell him as much as she could, whatever she currently deemed safe, and do her best to keep him out of harms way. Perhaps she could make it on her own, but the truth was...she was tired of being alone. She'd been alone all her life, always having to struggle alone because her mother never truly cared. And she was tired. God, Bella was so tired.
"I did it," Bella whispered. "I did it."
"What?" Charlie questioned softly, gently pulling Bella's face out of his chest. He brushed her hair back from her tear stained face. "Bella, what are you talking about?"
"I did it," she repeated, louder this time. "I...I don't know how, but I...I did it."
Silence fell upon the room once again, and Bella shivered as the temperature of the room continued to drop.
"What do you mean you did it?" her father asked gently. The street light from outside cast a faint glow over her father's face.
"I, I don't know, I did it," Bella insisted, trying to make him understand.
Charlie's face softened, and he murmured, "It's okay if you're still struggling with the breakup, Bells. Obviously we're gonna have to talk about you breaking the window, and get you another outlet, but -"
"I DID IT!" Bella screamed, and the same force from earlier pulsed out of her, still dangerous but significantly less damaging than before. Her father was knocked on his back several feet away and the door finally came off the hinges, the noise it makes hitting the ground echoing throughout the house. Charlie gapes up at her from the floor, and Bella begins to cry again as she realizes what she's done.
"Bella?" Charlie whispers, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position. His arms are littered with scratches from where he hit the glass.
"I'm sorry," Bella sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "I don't know what's happening to me!"
This wasn't going at all how she wanted it to. She wanted to tell him about her powers, about what happened with the men in Port Angeles, and instead everything was falling apart. Her head was pounding, the most intense headache she's had in a long time. Arms wrapped around her, and Bella cried until her world went black.
The world is quiet when Bella wakes.
She's warm, and she's confused, because she was sure she had shattered her window the night before, leaving her room vulnerable to the frosty air. Bella sits up slowly, pushing her hair out of her face. She's in a room, but it's not her room. It's her father's room, Bella recognizing the array of plaid shirts in the open closet to her left, as well as his uniform.
The door opens, and Bella jumps. Her father enters carrying a tray of food, a bottle of Tylenol, and a glass of water. He smiles at her as he sets it down on the beside table.
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
Bella looks at the clock, nearly being blocked by the stack of pancakes on the tray, and sees that it's ten minutes after nine.
"You're not going to school today," her father supplies before she can ask, "and I called out of work. I think you and I need a day to talk." He moves to place the tray on her lap and puts the fork in her hand. "Eat up, and I'll go first."
Bella's too tired to argue, and just cuts a piece of pancake and pops it in her mouth. She then takes two pills from the bottle and knocks them back with the water before she continues to eat.
"You passed out last night," Charlie says. "It was too cold in your room for you to sleep there, so I brought you in here. I cleaned the room up as best as I could. The door couldn't be saved, so I'll have to order you a new one. The window repair man won't be in until this afternoon, so until then, I nailed some blankets there to keep most of the cold air out. I'm ordering you a new desk, too. It wasn't too beat up, but there were some chunks missing, and I didn't want to risk you getting any splinters. Luckily, we won't have to wait long for the desk. Office Depot is open today, so I figured that while the window is being repaired, we could go pick up the desk."
Charlie stares at her for a bit, and Bella realizes she's supposed to give some kind of response. She nods.
Charlie continues, "Now, I don't know what happened last night, but I know that you didn't mean to hurt me, or damage your room like that. If you're up for it, I'd like to know what you did to your room, and how."
Bella stares down at her half eaten pancakes, tapping her fork against the edge of the plate. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, the moment to come clean to her father, the one person in the world who she had to believe wouldn't turn their back on her.
She takes a deep breath and explains. She tells him everything. About the force from inside of her that had torn her room apart, about the men she and her friends had encountered in Port Angeles, and how the force from yesterday was most likely related to the way she managed to make herself invisible during that traumatic night. She doesn't say anything about vampires, deciding to carry that one burden by herself.
Even though she couldn't tell him everything, she still feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.
Jacob smoothed down his hair for the umpteenth time that hour, leg bouncing as he glanced at Leah from across the table.
It was Tuesday night, and the night that Leah had agreed to go on a date with him. He'd finished his car over the weekend, forgoing sleep to get it ready to ask Leah out. Taking Bella's advice, Leah was the first person that got a ride in the Rabbit. The timing of the date was little unusual (Jacob had never heard of anyone going out in the middle of the week), but figured that it was the easiest way to avoid prying eyes from the reservation.
Telling his father about the date had been an experience, with his father getting a very sly grin on his face as he slid Jacob fifty dollars. Jacob had tried to give the money back. having saved up his own cash from doing odd jobs around town, but his father had insisted.
Pockets filled with enough cash for a nice dinner and a movie, Jacob had then called Bella to beg for suggestions for dinner. She'd sounded a bit weird on the phone, but had still been eager to help. She'd suggested a quaint little Italian restaurant in Port Angles, and her voice had taken on a wistful tone as she told gave him directions.
"Have you decided yet?" the waitress' voice startled Jacob out of his thoughts.
"I'll have the chicken parmesan with a glass of water," Leah said, closing her menu. Her hair hung in thick waves down her back. With the menu out of the way, the forest green dress she'd worn was visible. It complimented her skin wonderfully, and Jacob was glad his father had reminded him to gather enough wits about him to compliment her earlier when he'd picked her up.
"And you, sir?"
"The lasagna, and water for me as well," Jacob says.
The waitress, Jacob's eyes flick over the name tag that reads Melissa, smiles, takes their menus, and leaves to go put their orders in.
Jacob and Leah are left alone, and Jacob quickly racks his brain for a conversation topic.
"How was your weekend?" He asks, digging his nails in his palm at the weak question.
"It was great," Leah smiles. "Seth and I went hiking in Forks, and we found this really cool meadow. How was yours?"
"Loud. My dad and Charlie spent Friday screaming at the TV, and then on Saturday Embry and Quil came over. Quil pestered me about one of Bella's friends for nearly the entire time."
"Angela or Jessica?"
"Jessica," Jacob says, remembering that Bella had introduced the two girls to Leah. "She and Quil hit it off, even though Quil sucks at flirting."
"You think you're better?"
"You're here with me, aren't you?" Jacob revels in how smoothly the line falls from his lips.
Leah blushes, but she's saved from answering as the Melissa comes back with their drinks. She takes a sip of her water.
"I was really surprised when you asked me out," Leah admits, leaning forward a bit.
"I wanted to ask you out for a long time." Jacob flushes himself. "I was just too nervous."
"What made you step up?"
"Bella," Jacob admits. "For a quiet girl, she can be really assertive when she wants to be."
Leah grabs her glass and raises it up. "To Bella!"
They clink glasses and laugh.
Shortly after, their food arrives.
Leah can't remember the last time she's had so much fun, and Jacob can't believe he didn't pull his head out of his ass sooner. Jacob was fun to talk to, no judgement in his voice, and he eagerly absorbed her words as if everything she was saying was important. His eyes never left her face, and he put his all into making sure she had a good time. At one point, Leah laughed so hard she snorted water out of her nose, and the other patrons in the restaurant shot them disgruntled glares.
Somehow, the two of them had managed to scoot closer to each other as the night went on, until they were close enough to be touching.
As Melissa came to clear their plates and get their bill, Jacob reached under the table and grabbed Leah's hand, and squeezed. She returned the action, and leaned over to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
Jacob paid the tab, and helped Leah put her coat on. Leah smiled up at him, brushing her long hair from her face, cheeks flushed. The two teens left the restaurant, hand in hand, heading towards Jacob's car.
"What movie should we see?" Leah asked, stepping closer so that she could wrap her arms around Jacob's. Jacob welcomed it. "Nothing too scary, I'd like to be able to sleep tonight. And not a romance. God, I cannot sit through two hours of two people being painfully stupid about caring for each other."
Jacob grinned. "How about a compromise? I hear that action movie, Jumper, is pretty decent."
As the two piled into Jacob's car, they were unaware that they were being watched. Several yards away, Paul huffed, digging his nails into the forest floor. He'd been running patrols, and with the absence of the Cullens, Sam had expanded the distance they needed to cover. He'd been running by when he heard Leah's voice. Looking at the Rabbit as it drove away, Paul's stomach twisted uncomfortably. Leah was out on a date with Jacob, he could tell from the glimpse the dress she had on and the restaurant they'd been walking away from.
Sam wouldn't like that, Paul thought. The Rabbit turned the corner, out of sight as the two headed for the theater. To hell with Sam. He can't have his cake and eat it, too.
Paul buried all thoughts of Leah and Jacob deep in his mind, determined to keep it hidden from the pack mind. He may not have been the best person, and he was definitely guilty of being one of the people that harassed Leah on the Rez, but he was capable of change, of remorse. He would keep out of Leah's business and, in turn, do his best to keep Sam out of it, too.
Paul melted back into the shadows of the woods and continued his patrol.
On the other side of town, Jessica and Bella were sprawled on the floor of Jessica's bedroom. Angela was absent that night, but Bella wished that she was here. Jessica looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, and her usually bouncy curls were limp. Bella wasn't sure how to be naturally kind and comforting like Angela, who could always get people to open up. However, it seemed like Jessica wasn't the only one looking rough that evening.
"You alright, Bells?" Jessica asked, lips turning down at the corners. "You look a little, meh."
"I'm just really tired," Bella smiled weakly. "I haven't been sleeping well the past couple of days, that's all."
"You gotta start taking care of yourself," Jessica frowned.
"You wanna talk about self care? You look dead on your feet too," Bella grinned, but it quickly fell when Jessica looked away. "Hey, are you okay?"
Jessica was silent. She picked at the carpet, yanking at a loose thread. She shrugged. Jessica thought she had hidden it well, but it seems like she was failing at yet another thing.
Bella scooted closer, knocking her shoulder against the other girl's. "Jess?"
"I just...," Jessica's voice wobbled, eyes shining with tears. "I've been doing so much. Not just this week or this month, but in general. I've spent my entire high school career so far going above and beyond to be the best, to stand out. I've gotten good grades, I've made my resume look amazing by all the jobs, volunteer work, and extracurriculars. And still, the end result is always the same."
"What end result? What are you talking about?"
"Nothing," Jessica said, wiping the tears from her eyes and sniffing. "It doesn't matter. Sorry, I lost myself for a bit. Anyways, get that blue bin from under my bed. Your nails need a touchup."
When Bella didn't move, Jessica grabbed the bin and dragged it to the middle of the floor. Bella watched in silence as Jessica flittered around the room, a ball of seemingly endless energy, but with a droop in her shoulders. Bella floundered as she thought about what to do. Comforting people wasn't something that came easy to her. She cared about Jessica, so much, but didn't know how to articulate that in a way that wouldn't be clumsy, or that wouldn't make Jessica shut down even more.
She bit her lip and let Jessica plant her on a fluffy pillow, dutifully putting her hand on the little table Jess set up so she could paint her nails easier.
Jessica cleared her throat as she sat, pulling Bella's hand a bit closer. She flicked on a lamp and pointed it towards the table. From the bin she pulled a clear base coat bottle, a purple nail polish bottle, and a clear top coat bottle. Unscrewing the base coat, she got to work on Bella's left hand.
Just when the silence was getting unbearable, right as Jessica reached Bella's middle finger, she finally spoke.
"I don't think my parents love me."
Bella didn't know what to say, didn't know how to recover from that shock, but she didn't even need to worry about formulating a response, as Jessica continued, her hand still steady as she moved on to the next finger.
"I mean, maybe they do. Just...not as much as I would like them to. Not as much as I love them."
Finished with the base coat on Bella's left hand, Jessica moved on to the right. She gently lifted Bella's thumb.
"I get the best grades. I give back to my community. I've played nearly every sport Forks High has to offer. Yet, none of it is good enough. Nothing is ever good enough for them. I'm too slow on the volleyball court, not assertive enough on debate team, not smart enough to secure a position at the top of the class -"
Jessica's voice broke. The base coat was done, and after closing the bottle Jessica very quickly swiped at her left eye before grabbing the purple nail polish, and getting to work.
"I don't think I exist as a person to them. It's like I'm a trophy they want to show off to their friends, to prove that their kid is better. And it's funny, because by my parents' standards, I am better than them! But just because I'm the best out of their friend group, doesn't mean that I'm the best in their eyes. Not yet. Not ever, I don't think. And I...I push myself so hard. I used to love school, used to love learning. I had such big plans for myself." She gave a wry smile, smoothing nail polish over Bella's left index finger. "I wanted to go to Stanford, wanted to be a doctor. At least, that's what my parents told me I wanted.
"Remember what I said in the car, that day we went shopping? About trade school? I would prefer that over Stanford. I could make it at Stanford, I know I would...but I don't want to. I don't want to. For the first time in my life, I know what I want. Well, I know what I don't want. And it's that life, the life they carved out for me. I just...don't know how to stop wanting their praise, their affection."
The two girls sat silently as Jessica applied the top coat, and Bella made sure to keep her hands steady so that the paint would dry without smudging.
"You don't have to say anything," Jessica gave a small smile. "I know that was a lot to throw on you, I'm sorry."
"You know Angela and I are here for you, right?" Bella whispered.
"I know," Jessica patted Bella's arm. "And I'm glad you listened. It felt...really good to get that off my chest."
"It's funny," Bella huffed. "All of our parents love how we made them look or what we did for them, except for my Dad."
"God, you're right," Jessica giggled into her hands. "Mr. Swan is our team mascot."
"I think it's great that you're figuring out what you want. Life is too short to live by your parents' script. And if you need someone to be there when you break the news to them, I will gladly sit in, and I'm sure Angela will, too."
"You guys are the best." Jessica kissed Bella's cheek. "Thank you for validating me. I was so scared that I was just overreacting, but I think I'm making the right choice. No more Stanford. No more overextending myself. Just...being me. Jessica."
"You know, I think Jessica is great. What trade schools were you looking at? Did you decide on a field?"
The light returns to Jessica's eyes as she scrambles away to grab a binder from her closet. She swipes the nail polish bottles off the table, and Bella quickly moves her hands out of the way so Jessica can open the binder. Inside our endless forms and documents about the research she's been doing on trade schools. There are sections on nursing, carpentry, construction. Bella smiles as Jessica talks, and she feels like a warmth building in her chest.
Jessica had made it seem like she hated learning because of her parents, but Bella could see now that Jessica had simply hated the pressure her parents had placed on learning. Now, though, talking about her plans, she was lighter. More grounded, confident. Bella loved to see it, loved to see her friend be so passionate and driven.
Jessica's hands gestured wildly as she flipped through the binder, and all Bella could think was, I love this girl.
"Welcome back, everyone!" Ariana settled into her chair with a welcoming smile. Around the circle, everyone was now wearing paper name tags, their names written in sparkly purple ink. "I know you're all probably tired of hearing it, but I have to say this every session: This is a safe space, where there will be no judgement. We are here to heal, to learn, and to grow. There is no pressure when it comes to these sessions. You are more than welcome to share your story if you would like, but you are not required to. Now, let's begin!"
Bella raised her hand, swallowing when all eyes fell on her. Ariana nodded for Bella to start, smiling softly.
"I'm Bella," she said, forcing herself to speak louder than a whisper.
"Hi, Bella." The voices of everyone in the circled chimed in. A few seats down from Bella, Leah sat, giving Bella an encouraging nod.
Bella paused, unsure of where to start. Ariana helpfully suggested, "Perhaps explain your situation a bit, if you're comfortable with that."
Bella took a deep breath, and began. "I used to date this boy from my high school, Edward. He was my first boyfriend. Growing up, I was too busy taking care of my mom and the household, so I never really connected well with other people my age, and I tended to be an outcast. And then I moved to Forks, and the boy that every girl wanted but couldn't have wanted me!" Bella huffed a laugh. "God, I thought I was so special. So special that I was ignoring how much of the relationship wasn't good for me."
"When did you start to realize that your relationship with him wasn't what you wanted?" Ariana asked gently when Bella paused.
Bella exhaled heavily, digging her fingernails as she began to explain. It was painful to admit, but necessary. "I don't know if he was doing it maliciously, and I would like to believe that he hadn't meant to treat me this way...but he always made me feel inferior. Weak. Edward acted like I was incapable of surviving without him, incapable of doing basic day to day tasks by myself. He decided when I ate and what, who I talked to, when and where I drove. He even got his family to get involved. He'd have his younger sister, who I thought was my friend, keep tabs on me so he could always know where I was.
"Alice also treated me like a human sized doll. She'd decide what I wore and forcibly take me shopping and do my makeup. Whenever I protested, she would make me feel so guilty that I would just give in. But I was miserable. I don't hate girls that like shopping and make-up, but it's just not something that I, personally, am interested in. And I just wish she could have respected that. I wish I could have stood up for myself."
"Are you no longer in contact with them?"
Bella looked away. "Not...really."
"What does that mean, Bella?" a girl named Melissa asked. "If you don't mind me asking."
Bella blushed and ran her hands over her face. "I...when they first left, I would text, call, and email them everyday. None of them ever answered, because everything was disconnected, but I still have them. Just in case."
"Just in case what?" a girl with dark purple hair questioned. The tag on her chest helped Bella identify her as Alicia. "Are you waiting for them to call you back? You just said they disconnected their phone numbers and emails."
"They might come back," Bella said weakly.
"Can you tell us why you think that?" Ariana wondered. "From my perspective, it seems like they cut you out with no intention of letting you back in. It would be one thing if they texted you every once in a while, but it's been radio silence for months. And an even more important question, why do you want them to contact you? You just said that Edward made you feel inferior, and you described how his actions and those of his sister negatively impacted you."
"I thought they were my family!" Bella cried. "Even though they made me feel so awful about myself. Before I moved here, I had nothing. My mom is the worst, and I was practically raising her. I thought that if I let Edward have control then they'd want to keep me. I keep thinking they'll eventually come back. And I feel like shit when I complain about how they treated me, because it's not like Edward talking down to me is worse than if he had, like, slapped me, or something."
There's silence in the group. Several girls have commiserating looks on their faces, recalling their own experiences with being silent when faced with ill treatment, believing that they were lucky that it wasn't worse.
Carolyn, a thin girl two seats down from Bella, hesitantly clears her throat. She's relatively new to the group, and this was her first time speaking. Her long blond hair is combed in such a way to hide the healing bruises on her neck. "In my personal experience, emotional and mental abuse can just as bad as physical, but that's not me speaking for everyone or giving a general statement about abuse overall. It's just that, for me, at least when my ex hit me, I knew that the bruises would fade, that the cuts would heal. But when he was making me question my sanity...I don't know if I'll ever recover from being mentally manipulated like that. Every second of the day, I find myself questioning my own credibility."
"Carolyn's right," Ariana says gently. "Firstly, there's no "worse" kind of abuse. There is not a competition. People who were physically abused are not more valid than those who experience mental and emotional abuse, and vice versa. As I've stated in prior sessions, all forms of abuse can negatively impact a person's life. I understand what you mean about thinking that Edward perhaps didn't mean to talk down to you or treat you like a child, but the fact of the matter is that he did. He did do those things, and he made you feel like you couldn't speak up or discuss it. A relationship isn't about control, Bella. Whether he intended to or not, Edward controlled you, and he had his family help him control you. He may have believed he was doing the right thing, but that doesn't mean that what he was doing was right."
Bella was silent, taking it all in. She didn't want to believe that Edward had purposefully hurt her, hadn't wanted to accuse him of such a thing. However, he had hurt her, whether he meant to or not. When she was with him, it was like she was a child, and he was the exasperated parent. That wasn't a healthy dynamic, and it was actually rather insulting for Edward to treat her like she couldn't survive without him; she had only known him for a short portion of her life, and had survived the past years without him or his family.
"I...may have some issue with self worth," Bella gave a weak laugh. "I tried to argue with Edward all the time about him making choices for me, but he'd kiss me or change the subject. I hated the way he treated me...but I still keep waiting for them to call."
"You need closure," Najah says, directly across the circle from Bella. Her purple sneakers tapped leisurely against metal leg of her chair. "You'll never be able to move on if you keep waiting for them to call you. And you need to stop reaching out to them. Like Ariana said, they could've called you. The phone works both ways. Email works both ways. You'll never truly heal if you keep waiting on them to come back."
"You're right," Bella acknowledged, picking at a stray string that was coming out of the seam of her jeans. The Cullens could have called, visited, something. It was so hard to believe that Edward had single handedly persuaded the family to cut contact with her, and it made Bella conclude that they couldn't have possibly loved her as much as they said they did. Sure, the might have loved her in their own way, but they never loved her as much as they loved Edward. And so, of course, when it came time to choose, they chose Edward. "I can't...I can't keep waiting for them."
Bella hadn't actually contacted the Cullens for a while, but had been checking her phone and emails, subconsciously hoping that they'd send something. It was clear now; they weren't going to.
Ariana cleared her throat and took over. "Moving on is hard. Moving on means letting go of the past and working to build a better future. Sometimes, we like to hold on to the past because we're afraid of who we'll be if we don't have that baggage weighing us down. But the people who hurt us, the things that hurt us, will continue to have power over us if we don't let it go. I'm not saying you have to forgive. Rather, let it go. For example, my ex boyfriend is someone I've mentioned to you all. He hurt me, and I let it go. I do not forgive him, but instead, I let go of that pain. Not for him, but for me. He is an abuser, and he is not a part of my past that I can erase, but i can remove myself from that cycle of pain, put it behind me, and move forward."
The girls in the circle clapped, and Ariana nodded graciously.
"Now, let's go around the circle and end today's session with an easy question: what's your favorite color?"
They went around the circle answering the question, and as everyone packed up to leave, Leah appeared at Bella's side. The taller girl nudged Bella's arm with a small smile, the two of them leaving the room together. The community center in was bustling with life, not just with the girls Forks Domestic Violence Support Group. There were some art classes that took place throughout the building, photography, and, Bella noted as she and Leah passed a room, a band. The screechy noises of an unpracticed person on a violin filtered into the hallway.
"I'm proud of you, Bella." Leah said as they got outside.
"Thanks," Bella flushed. "I'm...I'm proud of me, too. I admit I hadn't really expected myself to speak about myself during these sessions. I just thought that I could heal myself just by listening to everyone else. But I'm glad I spoke up. I feel...better."
"What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"Do some homework and make dinner for my Dad and I. But first," Bella took a deep breath. "I'm going to delete the Cullen's contact information. All of it."
Leah pulled Bella into a tight hug, and Bella choked on a sob as she hugged her back.
"I know that's right," Leah grins into Bella's hair. "Keep moving forward."
The two girls parted ways, Leah waving as she drove off. Bella started her truck and took a deep breath.
"Keep moving forward," she whispered as she backed out of her parking spot. "Keep moving forward."
"Dad, relax. Seriously, you're stressing me out, and I'm not even the one going on a date."
Charlie huffed, tugging uncomfortably at his dark blue button down shirt. Bella had dragged him shopping one evening after school, and for someone who hated shopping herself, she sure had put him through the wringer. Tonight was his date, and he felt sick to his stomach. He hadn't dated since before Renee, and after she'd left him, he'd been a mess, unable to commit to moving on and accepting that things had changed.
He thought he'd have more time to mentally prepare for the date, but Friday had approached quickly. After the crazy few days that he and Bella had had, he was hesitant to leave her alone for too long. The window and door were easily repaired Monday morning, but he had scrambled to clean the floors before the repairman arrived, not wanting to have to explain the extent of damage that Bella had caused.
Bella knocked her father's hands out of the way and fixed the buttons, arching an unimpressed eyebrow at him. She looked better today, less dead, but Charlie could see that something was on her mind.
"I can cancel," Charlie said. "I can always ask her to reschedule."
"Dad," Bella groaned. "I'll be fine! I'm just going to stay in tonight and watch a few movies. Go out on your date! Have fun! And you can tell me all about it tonight. Or tomorrow morning, if you decide to-"
"Okay!" Charlie tugged away, flushing. "When did you get so mouthy?"
"Don't forget the talking points we went over," Bella said instead of answering the question. "Make sure to give her genuine compliments, listen to what she's staying, and stay engaged. And...make sure you call Billy tonight."
Charlie, who had been smoothing his hair down as he looked in the mirror of his bedroom, spun around, mouth agape.
"You told Billy I had a date?!"
"He's your best friend! I didn't think you kept secrets."
Charlie grumbled, knowing Billy had more than likely told Harry, who would have told Sue, and that the three of them would be expecting a full rundown of his date. The worst part about it was that tonight was Friday. The weekend meant that he would be expected at La Push, and he had no valid excuse to get out of it. Maybe he could volunteer for extra hours at the precinct...
"I already told Billy that you're off this weekend," Bella said innocently, moving to the door and leaning against the threshold. "That wasn't a problem, was it?"
Her father's irritated stare clearly stated that it was.
"Smooth out those wrinkles, you gotta go!"
Charlie let Bella usher him down the stairs, and out of seemingly nowhere, Bella pulled out a small bundle of roses. His eyebrows rose as he shrugged on his coat.
"Women like flowers." Bella smiled. She passed them to him, and as he opened the front door, Bella stopped him. "Hey...I'm really proud of you, you know that? Tonight's gonna be great."
"Thanks, Bells," Charlie smiled back. "Stay in the house tonight, okay? I won't be able to focus if you're out at night by yourself."
"Scouts honor."
Charlie left, Bella watching him drive off from the front steps.
Bella paced around the hallway for twenty minutes, waiting to see if her father would double back. He'd been visibly nervous, and not just about the date. Although she hadn't had anymore destructive outbursts, her father was still unsettled at the strange powers his daughter now had. It had taken Bella days of arguing to get her father to not cancel his date. The minutes ticked by slowly, and she strained her ears to hear as much as she could on the road outside.
Her eyes went to the clock. Twenty minutes was up.
Bella sprinted up the steps, heart pounding as she slipped into her bedroom and closed the door. She throws off her pajamas, tossing them on her comforter. Yanking open her closet door, she grabs the outfit she already had neatly folded on a hanger. Bella slips on black leggings, a long sleeve black shirt, black boots, and a dark green raincoat. She pulled her hair into a braid and used her teeth to pry the hair tie off of her wrist to keep the brain in place.
She had promised her father she'd stay in the house tonight, and she had intended to...before she got the note. Bella's eyes flicked over to the piece of paper sticking out from under her laptop. Taking a deep breath, Bella moves to her desk, gently tugging the paper out.
I'll see you soon.
-V
There was only one person in Bella's life who had a name that started with that letter. Bella shivered, folding the note and stuffing it into the black drawstring bag she had sitting on her desk chair. She threw the bag over her shoulder, and made her way back downstairs as her thoughts raced.
The note had to be from Victoria, it had to be. It had arrived in the mail that morning in a plain envelope, and Bella had quickly shoved it in her back pocket before her father could see and question her. She stomach had been in knots all day as she waited for her father to leave, her mind throwing together a plan that as stupid as it was reckless.
Shaking her head, Bella set the bag down in the hall next to the bowl of keys, and went to go set the scene. She grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge, and guzzled the first one, ignoring the burn in her throat. The second can, she cracked open and took a few sips from. She set both cans on the table in the living room. Turning on the TV, Bella inserted a random action movie from her father's collection. She tugged out two more movies, cracking open the cases and leaving them next to the cans of coke. Bella didn't plan on being gone long, but just in case, she wanted it to look like she had spent most of her evening in the living room doing exactly what she said she was going to do.
Snatching up her keys and the back, Bella pulled on her hood and left the house.
Her truck came to life noisily. The sound of the engine used to be a comfort, but now it did nothing but make her more anxious. Bella's eyes scanned the entire street, lingering on the woods, as she backed out of the driveway. Her human eyes wouldn't be able to see if Victoria was near, but she couldn't stop herself from looking.
The ride was silent except for the rumble of her truck. Bella had cracked her window down, letting the cool night air calm her down a bit. The clouds in the sky looked heavy, indicating the impending arrival of rain.
A small, barely noticeable break in the trees signaled her turn, and Bella and her truck disappeared into the brush. The thick gathering of trees began to thin, and in front of her was the long, dark driveway of the Cullen residence. Bella pulled into the driveway, backing up and making sure that her car was pointed towards the exit so that she could leave quickly. Bella sat in the car for a bit, looking up at the house.
Bella exhaled shakily and got out of the car.
Memories of the past flooded her mind as her foot made contact with the ground. The house was dark and lifeless now, but she could vividly recall a time when it wasn't. Esme and the others making her food; Edward giving her a tour of his room; the gathering for her birthday.
Bella grabbed the drawstring bag and closed her door. Pulling open the strings, Bella pulled out a crowbar that she'd pinched from the garage, and a flashlight. She put the back on her back and jogged up the steps to the front door. She raised the crowbar, prepared to bash in the glass, and stopped.
Even though she was angry with the Cullens, she didn't want to immediately jump to damage Esme's house. She wasn't that kind of person. Bella huffed angrily as she tried the doorknob, promising that she'd break the door down if she needed to.
She didn't need to.
When she twisted the doorknob, the door swung open easily.
Bella gaped for a few seconds before she realized that of course the Cullens weren't worried about theft. Not only were they rich and able to replace anything that got damaged, but the location of their house wasn't a well known fact. Besides her, she doubted that anyone else really knew where the Cullens lived. If she hadn't come back, the house likely would have remained untouched for decades.
Turning on the flashlight, she stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her.
The main hall of the house contained a few couches and tables, one of the many sitting rooms in the house. The furniture was covered with thick white sheets.
Bella quickly moved through the hall, stepping into the kitchen, one stop of many to exploring the abandoned house. The kitchen chairs were covered with white sheets, too, and all of the cooking utensils could be found in the cabinets as Bella snooped around. Her footsteps echoed as she moved through the house.
Edward's piano, where he'd played the song he'd composed for her.
Alice's room, where she'd used Bella as a living Barbie doll.
Edward's bedroom, the long gray couch still in its corner, the CDs still on the shelf.
A small part of Bella felt vindicated in the perception that music wasn't the same for Edward after their breakup either.
Moving on, Bella thought, huffing as she came to a stop in front of yet another familiar door. Carlisle's study.
The door opened quietly, and Bella moved the flashlight around to observe the room. It was surprisingly full. She could tell that a few books had been taken, as the bookcase was left quite messily, but many still remained. Bella set the flashlight down on the desk and pointed it at the books. She dragged her fingertips across the spines, reading the titles. A lot of medical books, typical. Historical recollections of art, music, and other historical events, unsurprising. Bella was about to turn away from the bookcase when her eyes caught a book. It was above her head, and Bella instantly knew why her eye had been drawn to it when she stood up straight.
The words on the spine of the book were woven in golden threat, and they read: lamia doctrina.
Bella didn't know a lot of Latin, but a lifetime of having her nose buried in books - and the research she'd done when trying to figure out how Edward had stopped the car - helped her recognized the words. Vampire Theory.
Bella inhaled sharply as she gently pulled the book off the shelf, filled with disbelief. Surely Carlisle hadn't meant to leave this book behind? Sure, he was probably confident no one would go into the house while he was gone, but he could never be certain. And he could be anywhere on the planet right now; if someone did come into the house and plan to take the book, there's no way Alice's vision would come in time, or that they'd be able to get back in time to stop said person.
"Funny," Bella huffs. "That that person turns out to be me."
Bella suspected that Alice wasn't watching for her future anymore. Alice wasn't her best friend anymore, and perhaps she'd exaggerated her love, but Bella was certain that Alice wasn't so awful as to see her, Jessica, and Angela almost be attacked by men and not do something about it. No, Bella was no longer in Alice's sight.
Perfect.
Bella set the book on the table and hunched over it, grabbing the flashlight to see the pages. The book was written in a mix of Latin and what Bella believed to be Italian, and...Jesus fucking Christ, was that Carlisle's name written at the top of one of the chapters? The next chapter was the name Aro. Her heart raced as she eyed the pages. Is it possible that...she had a copy of the history of fucking vampires in her hand right now? What else could it contain? The names of vampires? Their powers? How they came to be?
Bella shut the book and clutched it to her chest, snatching up the flashlight. The light shone on the Volturi painting, yet another item Bella couldn't believe was left behind in the Cullens haste to get away from her.
Edward had told her of the time Carlisle spent in Italy with the Volturi, and she wondered if this book was his, or maybe his and Carlisle's. Bella maneuvered around the desk, setting the book down on the edge. In her left hand she held the flashlight, and with the right, she touched Aro's painted face. He stood on a balcony, at the very center, three other vampires standing around him. She recognized Carlisle in the back, standing off to the side, as if afraid to be too closely associated with the vampire king.
They looked like gods. Whoever had painted them had to have been blown away by their inhuman beauty and grace.
Before, when she'd thought Edward had wanted her to be part of his family, she had imagined herself just as beauty, living with the Cullens forever. She had envisioned herself meeting Carlisle's friends, knowing he had to have made many, as he was the most social vampire out of his entire coven. From what Edward had said, Aro and Carlisle went way back, and Bella had believed he would be someone she would eventually meet after she turned. Now, though, she doubted she would ever -
Bella gasped, jerking away from the painting. In her haste to get away, she nearly tripped backwards over the leg of the desk.
The Volturi were enforcers of the law. The law that clearly stated that humans should not be aware of vampires. A law that the Cullens had broke.
The reality of the situation hit her all at once, and Bella stumbled back against the closed door of the study, sliding down to the floor as her breath quickened.
She began to cry as several things hit her all at once.
Aro was gifted, as Edward had briefly mentioned, able to read all the thoughts a person has ever had with a single touch. He was the leader of the Volturi. Combine those two facts, and one thing became very clear: no one hid from Aro. He could call on the Cullens at any moment, demanding an audience, and how could they refuse? Aro would touch Carlisle, Edward, or any other member of the coven, and he'd know. Aro would know that Bella knew about vampires.
There was no way to ensure that Aro wouldn't come into contact with the Cullens anytime soon. He could call on them tomorrow, next week, a year from now. And then he'd know, and he'd take action. He'd come kill her, and why would he stop there? What was going to stop him from killing her father, too? Or Angela? Jessica? Jake?
Bella began to sob, so angry and yet so filled with despair. None of this would be happening if Edward had just stayed away. Edward knew the rules, he knew she couldn't stay alive and human while she knew his secret, and yet he still let her into his world. What had he expected? That he could date her as she stayed human her whole life? That she'd even be okay with that?
The tears subsided as the rage took over.
How could Edward be so arrogant.
Had he truly believed her to be safe? Surely he knew, just as well as the other Cullens, that Alice's visions would do nothing against a call from the Volturi. Being able to see Aro requesting an audience wouldn't change shit. If Aro wanted to see Carlisle, then he would see him. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Bella trembles as she struggles to contain herself, wondering how she could even believe that she had fallen in love with a person that was permanently stuck at seventeen. Edward had believed that being alive for over a hundred years had made him wiser, and Bella could admit that in some areas in had, but not this one. Instead, when it came to logical thinking about the vampire version of a criminal justice system, he was sloppy. Reckless.
Reckless enough to believe that Bella would be dead before the Cullens ever crossed paths with the royal mindreader.
Reckless enough to believe that Victoria wouldn't come back after they'd killed her mate.
Bella choked out a sob. There went another problem.
Victoria. Bella doubted Victoria would go to the Volturi; the killing of her mate was personal, and she no doubt wanted to carry out revenge herself, but that doesn't mean that there still wasn't a possibility that she'd reach out to them.
Bella sat on the floor for what felt like hours. Her mind raced as she tried to connect dots.
"Come on, Bella," she hissed to herself. "Slow down. Think. Okay. The immediate problem is that Victoria is out there somewhere. She's coming to kill you. She'll no doubt kill Charlie and your friends whether you go with her freely or not. Next problem, the Volturi. They might not know about you yet, since no one has come to kill you, but that doesn't mean they won't ever come. So, you have vampires after you. What can you use to defend yourself?"
Almost immediately, Bella's eyes locked on the thick book on the corner of the desk.
A book about vampires...written by vampires. Surely...surely it could help her stay alive? She couldn't read it now, but she could translate it. Hope filled Bella's heart as she thought about what the book could contain.
How to kill a vampire in a way that wouldn't require superhuman strength or speed? How to outsmart one?
Bella stumbled to her feet, lunging for the book. It wasn't a concrete plan, but it was something. She had to try something, couldn't just let her father and friends be collateral damage in her shitty love life.
Bella looked at the painting one last time.
Aro stared back at her.
She turned away, and raced down the steps.
Bella, mistakenly believing that she had finally outgrown her clumsiness, was quickly proven wrong. At the bottom of the steps, she stumbled , and went flying into one of the covered chairs. She, the book, the flashlight, and the chair hit the floor hard. Bella gasped for air, head pounding as she sat up. Fuck, that hurt.
Bella pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the book, crouching to use the light from the flashlight to make sure it hadn't gotten damaged in the fall. As she was examining the book, she noticed a strange shaped shadow caused by the flashlight. She gasped, whirling around, thinking she'd be confronted with Victoria. Instead, she was faced with a toppled arm chair that had stacks of money spilling out of it onto the floor.
Bella stared at the money. She couldn't take it...could she?
You're already stealing the family grimoire, a voice in her head snickered. What's a few grand?
Bella wasn't a thief, hated the idea of stealing this book and the money. But...it would in handy, wouldn't it? What if she needed to go on the run? What if she needed to take people with her, make herself and someone else disappear? Still, she couldn't steal from the Cullens.
They're rich! the voice in her head snapped. They've had centuries to accumulate wealth. And besides, they hurt you first, remember?
It was decided.
In the next five minutes, Bella had stuffed all the money from the arm chair into her draw string bag until it was full, and then began to stuff the pockets of her rain coat. She pushed the chair back into the right position and put the sheet back over it. She stared at the other sheet covered chairs.
It was so funny to think of the Cullens stuffing their furniture with cash, but was also the smart thing to do. After all, it wasn't like the Cullens could keep all of their money in a bank their entire lives without people asking questions. So, wouldn't they have money in the other chairs, too?
This is purely for survival reasons, Bella reasoned to herself as she raced back up the stairs, going through the closets as quickly as possible to find any available bags. There weren't any in the closets in the bedrooms, but she found two a tote bag and two duffle bags when she ventured into the garage. Bella moved quickly back to the living room, not wanting her thoughts to dwell on the last time she'd been in the garage.
She emptied the cushions of each couch in the room and stuffed stacks and stack of bills into the bags. By the time she'd manage to make the room look the way it had before, she was sweaty, heart racing as she tugged the bags out to her car. The front door clicked shut behind her, and Bella panted as she wrestled her way into the drivers seat, four bags of money and a book stuffed in the cab with her.
Bella swore as she glanced at the clock on the radio in the dashboard. Nearly two and a half hours had passed since she'd left the house.
She threw the truck into gear and sped away from the house, heart racing as she pushed her truck to the limit to get back to the house before Charlie and hide the things that she'd stolen.
When Bella arrived home, she'd damn near broken her ankle jumping out of the car and dragging the bags to her room. She'd had to make two trips, and just barely managed to get the bags to fit in the bottom of her closet.
Bella yanked off her clothes and boots, tossing them on the opposite side of her bed, closest to the window, and tugged on her pajamas. Racing back down stairs, Bella threw herself on the couch in a half sitting, half laying position, grabbing the now flat can of Coke in her hand.
Just as she rewinded the movie so that actual scenes were playing instead of the TV screen being black, she heard a car pull into the driveway.
Bella breathed a sigh of relief. She had been cutting it close, but she made it.
The front door opened, and her father entered. He had a dopey look on his face, and...was that a smudge of lipstick on his collar?!
"I'm guessing the date went well?" Bella smirked, raising her can of soda to him in celebration.
Charlie's face got even redder, and he gave an inaudible mumble as he shrugged off his jacket, unable to wipe the grin from his face.
"Come on, hot shot," Bella laughed, patting the seat next to her. "Tell me all about it."