Chapter Eleven

‡

Bella

After the fiasco at Carlisle and Esme's, I was surprised my daughter was even speaking to Edward and me. I wished I could go back into time to that night and grant Nessie her only wish of going to the movies with Nick.

Right now, a week later, she seemed normal, though more of her time had been consumed by Nick.

I glanced over at my husband, who was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper. I had another history book in my hand, trying to review the two World Wars, since Edward refused to teach them to me until I had read the books he had bought on them. Nessie was once again out with Nick. We had dropped her off at the library where she wanted to find some books before Nick met her there to take her ice skating. Edward and I both knew that this was because she still had not told us that whenever she went out with Nick, she was riding on the back of his motorcycle.

"When is she coming home? It's been two hours and forty-five minutes already," Edward said softly, worry flooding his voice as he glanced at his watch for the hundredth time that hour.

"Relax. She'll be home soon," I whispered, reaching out to touch his arm soothingly. I looked back down at the book, but suddenly lost interest in studying.

Edward sighed deeply with frustration and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I'm going to call her."

"No," I snapped, causing him to stop immediately before giving me an annoyed glare. "Leave her alone. She's on a date."

I watched as his eyes grew wide at the last word I had said, his lips quivering with anger as he processed it. Although it was painfully obvious, I supposed he had never thought of Nessie and Nick's spending time together a date. He picked up his paper, snapping it open before he began reading again with a vicious glare.

A few minutes later, Nessie came through the door. I glanced outside, half expecting to see Nick speed off on his motorcycle. However, no one was there. Nick must have dropped her off at the end of the street, just to make certain that we did not see her riding on it. The paper immediately dropped out of Edward's hands as he excitedly turned around, relief washing over his face when he saw that she was home.

"Hey. Sorry I'm a little late," she said as she put her shoes and coat in the closet by the front door.

"Did you have fun?" Edward asked, his tone of voice now relaxed, as if he had never been worried about her.

She smiled sweetly as she recalled her evening, her eyes dancing with happiness at the new memory. "It was fun, Dad, thank you. I'm going to take a shower." Before we could reply to this, she hurried up the stairs and out of our sight.

"I wish she would talk to us," I told him softly.

"Can you blame her?" he asked. Our gazes met, pain-filled at the thought of what we were putting our daughter through.

"She's finally living a normal life. Isn't that what we wanted for her? After all of this, she deserves that. At least for a little bit. Before we shatter her world with the truth."

Edward nodded, appearing to accept what I had said. I doubted that he fully agreed with me though; it seemed each day, he was pushed further into believing we should tell her and change her sooner rather than later. But I wasn't backing down; I wanted the best life possible for my only child, the one I had bore in more pain and agony than any other mother on earth.

After about twenty minutes, Nessie came back down the stairs in her pajamas. Her hair was still wet, unbrushed and wild around her sweet face. I immediately noticed a change in her step. Usually, light and graceful, her footsteps were louder, more determined, as she made her way toward her father and me.

Her expression was a mix of emotions: Anger, hurt, determination.

"Rensessmee, what's wrong?" Edward asked, leaning forward in his seat as he studied her.

"I'm done with this. With all of this," she answered, her voice sharp and dark, a tone I had never heard her use before.

"What...what do you mean?" I asked her, rising off the couch at the same time as Edward.

She took a deep breath as her angry eyes pierced us further. "I'm done with the pain. All of the lies that fill this house like flood water. I'm done with not knowing even the simplest things about my family. I know there are dark secrets being kept from me, and I am asking...no demanding... that you tell me what they are."

I had never heard her speak this way in my entire life. The conviction in her voice sounded foreign to my ears. Suddenly, a horrible feeling of dread descend over me. At that moment, I wished more than anything that I could sleep; that way, there was hope that this was only a dream.

"I want to know everything right now," she continued, making icy eye contact with both Edward and me. "I want you to tell me everything I have been wondering my whole life."

"Renesmee," Edward repeated. "You don't know what that would mean for you. You're not ready. Not now. Please."

Renesmee

I had never heard my father beg before. I wanted to stop; truly I did. As much pain as they have caused me, it wasn't in my nature to inflict that pain back. However, the voice in my head coaxed me on.

Tell them again. You want to know everything. Now.

The voice terrified me. Where did it come from? Was I going crazy?

It was a male's voice, calm and perfect, ordering me to obey it in an almost polite way. The familiarity was the scariest part of the hypnotic sound. It reminded me of someone I knew, although I could not place it.

At this very moment, I was being set free, in the truest sense I could ever imagine. I was finally doing what I had wanted to do for the past year and a half. It was a liberating feeling. The terror I felt do to my insanity disappeared quickly—whatever was wrong with me could not be a bad thing if it was breaking my frustrating silence, overdue to be shattered.

Tell them again, it repeated firmly.

"I want to know everything."

Let's start with the basics. Why don't you ask your parents why they don't eat or sleep. I'm sure you have been wondering that for quite awhile.

"Why don't you eat?" I continued. "Why don't you sleep?"

"Nessie, what's wrong with you?" my mother asked, her voice filled with fear and grief as she tried to comprehend was happening to me. I didn't know what she expected me to say; I didn't even know what was happening to me. I was as shocked as they were. All I knew was that the person I had walked upstairs as just a little while ago was not the same person who came back down.

The voice had come to me while I was putting on my pajamas. This disappointed me a little; if I was going to have a breakthrough, whether sane or otherwise, I wanted it to be a slightly more interesting situation. However, beggars can't be choosers. I took the sudden bursts of insanity as they came.

What's wrong with you? Why have they kept this all from you? Why won't they just tell you the truth?

I repeated the words firmly, trying my best to convey my pain. The feeling was amazing. I felt light, no longer weighed down by the unspoken questions that separated me and my parents.

"You need to stop, Renesmee. Now," my father ordered, his voice low and dark. His eyes narrowed, daring me to disobey him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I whispered softly, looking down at the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my parents exchanged glances; they thought they had stopped me. What they were about to find out was, I wasn't giving up on my new self. I was just getting started.

Bella

It was over. She would turn and go back upstairs. Back to the pain that she had kept inside, but safe from an even greater pain that I knew I could not force upon her at this moment. We could not tell her the truth. Not now.

She suddenly looked up, her eyes no longer as sorry as her apology to her father had just sounded. "But I can't stop until you understand exactly how I've felt ever since we moved here."

At the sound of those awful words, I immediately collapsed on the couch, letting unstoppable dread rise through me.

"Do you know what's it like to not remember anything about the first seven years of your life? I thought that was bad enough until I realized that for the next ten years of my life, my entire family kept the truth from me. You saw my pain and you said nothing. You saw how much I wanted to know what you were keeping from me and you did nothing. Do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel like you don't love me as much as you always say you do. Because people who love their children don't keep things like that from them."

"Nessie, we want to tell you." My voice was quiet as I begged her to find the truth in it. "We want to tell you, but we..."

"Can't, I know," she interrupted forcefully. "But you have to try. You have to tell me who I am. You have to tell me why I feel so different from everyone else. You have to tell me the truth."

Renesmee

I was sobbing uncontrollably right now, struggling to keep my voice understandable. I continued pleading with my parents to tell me what they knew. I studied their faces, trying to see if they were at the point where they felt so bad for me that they would just decide to just tell me. My mother looked ready to break. Her face was even paler than usual and her eyes were filled with grief from witnessing this emotional display. She knew that I wasn't just trying to get them to tell me what they knew; I was also releasing the hurt that I had held inside me since we moved to Washington.

That's it. Tell them everything, Renesmee. Tell them how you feel alone. Tell them how you feel like you aren't a part of the family. Tell them that this has been building inside of you for a long time. Tell them.

The voice's coaxing was hypnotic. When it was finished giving my next instructions, I had to snap myself back into reality, a reality that for once in my life I did not want to escape from. I couldn't begin to describe how amazing I felt at this moment. It was like the voice knew me better than I knew myself. It understood everything I felt, everything that I wanted to convey to my parents. And it didn't let me forget one detail, something I was extremely grateful for. If I was going to get my parents to tell me everything, I was going to need to use every single piece of my pain.

"I feel like an outsider in my own family. The amount of pain and sadness I feel daily is unbearable. And the worst part is, I don't know how two people could do this to their own child. The child they claim to love and would do anything for."

"We would do anything for you, Renesmee," my father snapped. "Do you think this has been easy for us? Do you think we spend each day happy that we are doing this to you? We are trying to protect you!"

"Protect me from what?" I yelled back. "Because the only thing hurting me now is you!"

Bella

I could tell those words hurt Edward just as much as they hurt me. To think that our daughter thought we would be intentionally causing her this pain was unimaginable.

"I wish you could understand how it feels to be constantly worried that the people in this town will pick up on the fact that you're so different from them," she continued. "I wish you knew what it felt like to be so utterly terrified of your family, that escaping to the dark forest is the best option. I am beyond frustrated. I am beyond confused. I hate feeling this way. Whatever is going on with our family, you can tell me. I'm old enough to hear it. I deserve to hear it."

At this point she fell to the ground, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed out all of her pain. I wondered how many times she had done this alone—cried her pain, trying to get it all out but barely touching the surface. She had held everything in for far too long.

"So what are you waiting for?" she asked, looking up at us with pain filled eyes. "Tell me."

"Renesmee, please. We can't right now. Not while you're this upset. You don't understand what would happen," Edward pleaded.

"We are going to tell you. Do you think we would keep things from you forever? We want you to finish out this school year. We want you to enjoy Nick. To be happy. I know you can be happy, Renesmee. Because once we tell you, everything is going to change." I paused, staring at her intensely to make her understand. "Everything."

"I'm ready for it now. Whatever it is. Please," she begged.

Renesmee

Silence filled the room as I broke down in another series of pain-filled sobs. My parents expressions immediately softened at the sound of my last words. This was it; they were finally going to tell me the truth. I was finally going to learn who I was before my accident as well as the person I truly was now. I was finally going to know every painful secret that I had known existed since the day I brought Matt home to meet my parents. This was it, the moment I had dreamed about, when everything in the world would be made right again.

My father finally looked at me. "I'm sorry, Resnesmee. We can't," he said softly, his voice filled with grief.

With that I ran upstairs to my room, a means of escape that would never truly let me break free.

Bella

Finally Edward spoke. "I'm sorry, Renesmee. We can't."

My heart broke again when I saw the look of betrayal on our sweet daughter's face. Without a word, she ran upstairs, to deal with the new mountain of pain we had just inflicted on her.