Hey folks! No...again, this is not a report. I know I'm horrible.
But...
Since it's January 20th...that's my birthday, I'm giving you all a return gift as I consider your support my ultimate gift.
(Psst, if any of you do want to send me some *ahem* gifts; I'm cheap and easy and I respond to the following golden word: FOOD)
Anyways, jokes aside, here's a little sneak peak.
Have fun!
Ironically, I was dreaming. It was ironic because that's what Bella did the day of her birthday and I was reading New Moon. Not so ironically, it was Edward I was dreaming about. Only, I wasn't dreaming about getting old and withering while my boyfriend remained perfectly ageless.
No, what I was dreaming about was worse…and also a lot deeper, if I do say so myself.
I was back in the Twilight world, in the Seattle Art Museum, dying in Edward's arms. I promise, I heard his voice reverberate in the contours of my skull just as I let go of the last thread holding me to that world – literally and figuratively.
I woke up.
I turned over to look at the ceiling, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight streaming in through the open windows. Sunlight, I thought, had never been the waking factor back in Forks. It had always been an alarm, or Bella waking me up. Now, it was the sun, the alarm or my mother who had taken to peeking in my room just to see if I was alive – not awake.
Not many teenagers could say they had died in their favourite book world and had woken up in their own. Oh, what I would not give to be one of those kids…sadly, I wasn't one of those kids. One of the two kids ever, to be truthful…
I got off the bed and padded to my mirror, looking into it to see the same face, brown eyes, brown hair, pyjamas and glasses. Not one thing was out of the ordinary, yet all of me was pressed up against the phenomena of extraordinary.
All because of Meyer…I thought viciously.
She'd ripped me and Stephen from our normal, happy, not-liking-Twilight lives and thrust us right into her crazy book world where we'd made the worst mistakes of our lives. Not only did we fail to do whatever the hell she wanted us to do, we also got close to the characters – ones we had to leave behind.
At least that was what I did. I fell in love with Edward Cullen. How stupid could I be?
The worst thing was that I still did. I missed him, I dreamt about him, I thought of him, I even tried to play the song he'd made for me but I hadn't been able to get the same amount of perfection to it.
I promise…
I thought of his voice again, remembering the texture, the tenor, the intensity of it. That was one of the main things I had to hold on to the fact that I hadn't just dreamt up the whole thing. I'd read somewhere that you couldn't make up voices – and I remembered his clearly.
Well, there was that…and there was Stephen.
Impulsive, rash, and thoroughly real Stephen…the poor boy had woken up hours before I had in the same hospital, miles from home.
He'd gotten in trouble both ways till I stepped in saying that he was a friend and he'd come over to meet me. He had spent a week in the hospital before his folks came over to get him, asking all sorts of questions about how we knew each other and how he'd gotten a neck injury so severe it seemed like a miracle he was alive.
Honestly, it wasn't a miracle. It was Quantum Physics and a whole lot of dimensional theory, I couldn't explain to his parents without being tossed into the sanatorium.
Good thing was; he'd convinced his parents to let him visit me again. This time; without the reality shifting and almost illegal travelling…so, I supposed it was a good thing.
After all, it was, my birthday…
Well...?
Did that meet the expectations out there? Yes? No? Maybe so?
I sincerely hope you do.
Before I forget:
1) Do you think I should make a different story featuring the 'deleted scenes' from the stories?
2) Do you think I should make an interview section...like where you ask questions and the characters answer them?
3) Do you have any ship names for this story couples, couplets, etcs?
Thanks! Please Review!