DISCLAIMER: All characters and story world belong to SM. All lyrical references and quotes are property of their original artist. No copyright infringement intended.
[Beta'd by: Project Team Beta, Bikechick3]
Special thanks to: Ocdmess
Last chapter I asked what one song reminded you of regret in your past.
My answer: Korn - Wish you could be me.
I always associate it with dark moments from my past I wish I could change the outcome of.
Chapter Playlist:
30 Seconds to Mars – 100 Suns
30 Seconds to Mars – The Kill
Concrete Blonde – Bloodletting
A Fine Frenzy – Almost Lover
http:/ /www[dot]youtube[dot]com/user/BeautifullySacred
* This chapter contains self-harm *
Chapter 3
BPOV
Saturday December 10th, 2005
I wanted something I knew that I could never have again. I glanced down, the knife in my hands reflecting my own eyes back at me. For a brief second, I saw a golden shimmer in the reflection. I blinked quickly and refocused on the blade, but the eyes mirrored back at me were just as just as brown as they'd always been. Jesus, everywhere I look he's all I see.
The blade was starting to get dull from use, which, besides being unsafe, made the pain I felt so much more significant. I glanced at the clock; Angela would be here at any moment. I stood up from my bed and closed the knife. I placed it in my back pocket, slipped on my sneakers, and checked my appearance in the mirror to make sure everything was on properly and that I looked normal. I was even bringing a handbag with me, to try to fit in more. Alice would be proud.
I headed down stairs and left a note for Charlie, reminding him of my plans with Angela and Jessica. Heading to Port Angeles to shop for Winter Ball dresses, be back late, I scrawled hastily on the notepad. Well, they were shopping. I was going to make it look like I was trying to move on.
The dance was on Friday and Christmas break was one week away. Angela was going with Ben, and Jessica was going with Mike. Thankfully no one had asked me, so I didn't need to come up with an excuse. It was nearly eleven by the time we finally arrived in Port Angeles. By two, I was bored of dress shops, and I told Angela and Jessica I was going to the music store across the street.
Once outside, I noticed that the clouds were thinning, and a few strands of sunlight were breaking through. I tucked my bag into my side and headed across the street to the large music store. They had everything from CDs to vinyl, and even boasted an assortment of instruments and recording equipment. The building was two stories tall, and the entire upstairs was filled with music equipment, stereos and amplifiers. Downstairs there were rows and rows of music in every format. I browsed the various genres of CDs to pass time, not looking for anything in particular.
Along the side of the store were listening stations that happened to be surrounded by a group of teenagers dressed in leather coats and tattered clothing. Two of the boys were thrashing their long hair around to whatever they were listening to on the headphones, while the other three bobbed their heads quickly in the same rhythm. I chuckled to myself and shook my head. Metal heads.
The downstairs portion of the store was far more populated than the upstairs. In the upper half, a few employees were standing around behind a glass counter talking, while a few young guys hovered around the electric guitar area. There was an older man browsing through the sheet music section, and a girl my age standing near the brass collection of instruments.
I strolled through the aisles of guitars, taking note of the various shades they came in. Seated in the farthest corner, on top of an amplifier the size of a tire, was a man with long, thin, sandy hair. His face was very narrow, and the rest of his features were extremely elongated. I estimated that he would easily stand at around 6 feet 6 inches tall.
He was hunched over an acoustic guitar, and his hands slowly moved over the body of the instrument. The noise of the electric guitars behind me made it difficult to discern from if he was actually playing or not.
I slowly walked further down the aisle, and glanced at an acoustic occasionally. I spotted one that was a deep wine red, and lingered by it for a moment, taking in the hue of the stain. It's really beautiful, I noted silently, wishing I knew how to play. I'd never been interested in honing any kind of skill — especially music — but in the last few weeks, I found myself increasingly drawn to it.
Being surrounded by guitars brought back memories of when I was living in Phoenix with Renee. She was always taking classes, trying new things, and she would attempt something for a few weeks and then say it was a waste of time, or that the instructor didn't know what they were talking about. When I was fourteen, she decided to take music lessons, and, of course, she chose the guitar. She told me she was going to be the next Nancy Wilson, and I just rolled my eyes and agreed to go with her, but I refused to play anything.
I found the whole thing interesting, and would often read over the literature that she was given to study. They would go in depth about the various parts of the guitar, how it was made, the history behind it, and different terms used. Like clockwork, three weeks into the lessons she stopped going, claiming the teacher knew nothing about good musicians. He had wanted her to start with blues, one of the few types of music that she didn't enjoy. The guitar was added to the pile of my mother's experimental objects in the garage, and quickly forgotten about.
I continued to slowly work my way toward the man in the corner of the store. I felt strangely drawn to him, like there was an imaginary tugging inside of me, pulling me toward him to befriend him. He was maybe twenty feet away when I stopped and feigned interest in a nearby acoustic. I heard the faint sound of strings, and I realized that he was playing. I turned toward him and noticed his long, sandy hair had a hint of natural red to it, and his body seemed incredibly solid.
I watched as his fingers started gliding across the frets. The sadness the melody seemed to project was unreal and like nothing I'd ever heard before. I wonder what words he envisions in his head to accompany such a beautiful sound.
I took another step closer, and my heart thumped faster in my chest. Just as I took my fourth step, he whispered something so quietly that I couldn't be certain he'd said anything at all. The second line was slightly louder and I could make out something about "the start."
"I believe in nothing, not the earth and not the stars," the man sang loud enough for me to understand. He took in a ragged breath and straightened his posture infinitesimally. The next two lines shared the same repetition as their predecessors, and the strumming picked up in volume as he plucked the chords with vigor.
"I believe in nothing, but the beating of your heart," he sang with a beautiful, but sad voice.
I shifted my weight, and contemplated whether I should sing a harmony behind him. Would he think I was being too forward? Does he even know I'm watching him play? Why am I so intrigued by this guy? I held my breath in anticipation, waiting for him to continue. I couldn't be certain, but it looked as though he cracked a smile just as I decided to sing with him. He took another deep breath and began to play the notes gently once again.
"I believe in nothing," he started.
"Ooh-oh Oh," I sang quietly. I glanced at him to make sure that I hadn't upset him. When I determined that there was no sign of irritation I continued to sing the non-intrusive line between each of his lines. What the hell has gotten into me?
When the song slowed down, I sang quieter. After a few more lines, he only played the major chords.
"I believe in nothing, but the truth in who we are," he whispered as his fingers slid over the last chord.
I considered asking him if he wrote it, but I knew that I was already acting too forward. Suddenly, without even thinking about it, I took another step forward; I felt compelled to ask him regardless of my insecurities.
"That is a beautiful song. May I ask who wrote it?" I managed to mumble out somewhat coherently. Great, not only am I being horribly nosy, but I'm also mumbling like a nervous fool.
"Thank you," he replied, his melodic voice captivating me. "I wrote it, quite a long time ago though. Perhaps it's not so up to date, but the sentiment is what matters I suppose," he added and flashed a bright smile. He had large dimples high up in his cheeks and his eyes crinkled at the sides, but he was still looking down and I couldn't make out the color. He seemed strangely familiar, however, and I took another step closer, leaving only two feet between us.
"The words are lovely, as is your voice. You seem to have many talents musically." I blushed at my brazen actions. Surely I was making a fool of myself, but I didn't have much to lose or be concerned about.
"Thank 'ya ma'am," his tone lightened to a hearty chuckle and I noticed a slight accent. "I must say, you have quite a lovely voice yourself, Miss…" he lingered like he was waiting for something.
Oh!
"Bella, uh, Isabella Swan," I said as I smiled nervously. My eyes dropped to the floor as I felt the heat rise up my neck and across my cheeks. My eyes began to wander, and I slowly looked up to watch him, but didn't meet his eyes.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bella Swan. I'm Garrett," he added and smiled brightly again as the crinkles at his eyes formed. They are from such a large grin, I guessed, not from age or complexion. They added to his charm and allure. His skin was paler than my own and he looked flawless. Suddenly, I noticed that his hands had started strumming the guitar strings again, only this time with a harder emphasis and more variations. He seemed to be concentrating, but his playing seemed effortless.
"This song, however, has no words to accompany it. Perhaps you have some that may fit," he said.
I was uncertain whether I should share any of my words with anyone but my notebook. I felt a pressure in the back of my mind and the same tugging as before at the center of my chest. I wrapped my arms around myself tighter in reaction to the sensation in my center. I'll do it, I decided quickly. I took a few deep breaths in hopes calming my nerves. Jasper would be a welcomed comfort right about now, I thought to myself.
"This one has mild syncopation all throughout the song. That means it does the unexpected, reaching a crescendo, or climax, when you least suspect it. It's very emotional, maybe even interpreted as painful. I wrote it as an acceptance of sorts, but I guess it could be something else," he said casually while his fingers continued to pluck delicately over the strings. I tried to focus on the flow of the song.
"It has a split verse, then the chorus, then another split verse and chorus. Then it has a lead-in to the bridge where it hits crescendo. It then repeats the chorus, then the lead in, then the chorus three more times." He took a deep breath and laughed, probably at my confused expression. "I'll play it through once for you, just pick up wherever you feel comfortable." He looked up at me, but my eyes were fixed on the floor, afraid to meet his gaze. I shifted my weight again and nodded as I chewed on my lip.
He started over from the beginning. In-between what he called the split verse, he sang an "Oh-ooh Oh-ooh" before continuing. I nodded in time with his rhythm as he continued. As the song progressed, I started to tap my foot to keep the beat with him. I noticed when the beat changed unexpectedly, and understood what he meant about syncopation; I never understood the term clearly in the handouts Renee had been given. The bridge continued to flow into the chorus and lead-in, and I thought back to all of my poems written in the last few months. Only one really seemed to fit the emotions in this song. I focused on the words as my panic rose quickly when I realized how desperate they truly were.
He brought the song to a close and paused for a moment. I wanted to kick myself for agreeing to this so easily and wondered if he would say anything if I just ran. The tugging sensation from earlier pulled once again inside my chest and I felt the pressure inside my mind and heart. I took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. I nodded my head once and I swallowed nervously.
The familiar rhythm began, and after playing the intro, he looked up at me. I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to stare at the floor as I felt my voice tremble in the back of my throat.
"What if I wanted to break," I whispered to myself. I closed my eyes and dug my fingers into my sweater at my sides. "Laugh it all off in your face. What would you do?" My breath shuddered. Garrett sang the harmony in-between the verse again and just before his note ended, I started my next line.
"What if I fell to the floor?" My voice was stronger, and I swallowed once again. "Couldn't take this anymore; what would you do?" I repeated the poem from my journal, feeling stronger as I pushed through the words.
"Come, break me down. Bury me! Bury me! I am finished with you…" I tightened my hold on my sides. The chorus faded into the next verse, but it sounded more complex than before. His fingers must have known the chords so well, because it all sounded so effortless.
"What if I wanted to fight." I placed an emphasis on the past tense, and my body tensed as I recalled the next line in the poem. "Beg for the rest of my life! What would you do?" My head began to rock forward and backward with the music. As I continued to recall the words from my poem, I remembered the meaning it held. It was filled with sorrow and spite, and was an apology of sorts, but it also clearly pointed out his faults.
"You say you wanted more, well what are you waiting for? I'm not running from you," I sang the end of the verse with vindication. The memory of his words flooded my mind and I could feel the heat of my cheeks and the tension in my body.
'I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me, screaming as you go.' He smiled half a smile, but his eyes were serious.
'I'm not running anywhere,' I promised.
The memory made me tremble violently, and I repeated the chorus more powerfully than before, filled with the hurt inside of me.
"Look in my eyes – You're killing me, killing me! All I wanted was you!" I screamed out louder than I intended. A sob tore through me from deep inside and I bent forward in an attempt to hold myself together. I couldn't sing anymore and I began gasping for air as I sank to the ground in a crouch. I held my knees to my chest tightly and tried to keep myself from unraveling at the seams. My head sprang up to look at Garrett as I heard his voice practically growl out the bridge.
"I tried to be someone else, but nothing seemed to change – I know now, this is who I really am inside. Finally found myself! Fighting for a chance – I know now, this is who I really am." His voice rang out in a strong harmony with the guitar. His own conceived words were carrying through the crescendo and I could feel the hurt and sorrow behind the entire song.
I leaned forward onto my knees and put my arms around my side as I took the lead again and sang the bridge lead-in. We continued this one more time, switching the roles of chorus and lead-in until the end of the song neared and my voice lingered quietly over the last line.
I heard the loud applause of what must have been half a dozen people behind me. Shocked, I turned and looked up to find a few store clerks, a supervisor of some sort and a few customers as they smiled at the both of us. I turned back to look at Garrett, but he was paying them no attention, he was simply beaming at me; and then I noticed his eyes.
While the crinkles at the corners were alluring, the rusty orange of his irises were shocking. His grin was wide and when I combined all of the small traits together, the result should have been terrifying. For once in my life, I acted as I should and gasped. I turned to get up and run but as I tried to stand, my center of gravity was lost and I crashed back down to the floor. The room was spinning and I saw black spots. All I could do was gasp for air, as my mind ran into overdrive.
Vampire.
This man is a Vampire and I, of all people, happen to wander across him nonchalantly, completely drawn to him? Figures. In that instant, I decided that I was forever destined to be reminded of everything I'd ever lost, for the rest of my life.
The rush of people that were hovering over me made me feel claustrophobic. I struggled to put my hands behind me and lifted myself into a sitting position. Multiple voices were asking me if I was okay, but all I could do was nod and swallow nervously. I struggled to get to my feet, and grabbed my bag. I mumbled my apologies and I turned, darting down the stairs faster than I thought that I was capable of, and straight out the front doors.
As I burst outside and onto the busy sidewalk I noticed that the sun was still peeking through the clouds. I hesitated and turned to look back at the storefront made up of windows. Garrett was standing just inside at the edge of the shadows with the most confused expression. The other people were talking amongst themselves, probably about my odd behavior. I darted across the street, and narrowly avoided a honking car as I sped back into the dress shop.
After I managed to half-answer the twenty questions about my expression, my panting, and my odd mood, Angela and Jessica decided to drop it. They paid for their items, and discussed the next store they wanted to visit. They decided on a shoe shop a few blocks over and I shrugged to show my lack of opinion in the matter. As Jessica turned off the engine, I opened my door and looked up at a large white sign with a red cross and a mixing pestle. Murphy's Medical Supply Shop the sign read. Somewhere inside my head, a light flicked on. A slight smile crept across my lips, and turned back to Jessica and Angela.
"I'll be right behind you guys, I just want to check out another store across the street," I said.
Jessica and Angela looked at each other skeptically, then back at me, hesitating.
"Oh come on, it's not like I need high heels, I'd kill myself in something with any sort of added height. I promise I'll only be five minutes."
Angela seemed to consider it for a second but Jessica replied first.
"Alright. Sure. No getting lost or anything though, we still need to eat before we head back," she said dryly. She turned to walk towards the shoe store and Angela turned to follow her.
I made quick work of my shopping adventure, not wanting to give any other vampires in the surrounding area a chance to find me. I headed into the store set on letting nothing stop me. The clerk behind the counter greeted me as I passed her, but I just mumbled a response as I read the display signs on each aisle. The store was set up like a pharmacy or kitchen supply store. The shelves had plastic barriers and the peg-walls had locking mechanisms in efforts to prevent shoplifting, or so I guessed. I spotted the aisle I was looking for and looked back over at the service clerk.
"May I please have a look at one of the items down this aisle?" I smiled brightly in attempt to appear friendlier.
The clerk grabbed the keys from behind the counter and turned to follow me down the aisle. I pointed at the item just above eye level and smiled once again. The clerk eyed me suspiciously before she unlocked the mechanism to hand me the plastic bag. Inside was a stainless steel surgical scalpel and the package said it was $24.99. I turned it over in my hand as I examined it closer.
"I'll take this one, please," I said evenly, as I kept my voice confident. The clerk eyed me over again and then turned back to the lock and closed the mechanism before she spun on her heel to walk back to the front of the store.
I was in and out in less than five minutes.
I slipped the new blade into my bag and walked into the shoe store. I took two deep breaths and focused on holding a fake smile on my lips as I looked around for Angela and Jessica. I didn't want either of them asking questions about where I had gone, or what I was up to. I gave them more input than usual on the color and strap choices, and interacted more in the conversations. I was certain Angela had noticed something was different, but she let it go. She was probably just happy I was finally opening up.
We finished up our shopping trip, and headed to dinner at JB's Restaurant. I bought desert for the three of us before we headed back to Forks. My mind was still swimming full of thoughts about the music store, and the entire drive home I must have chanted the word 'vampire' a hundred-thousand times in my head. I'd seen another vampire and I didn't know what to do or think about it, and feeling so confused about the whole situation just made me more upset.
As soon as I got home, I charged up the stairs, dropped my purse in the hallway by my bedroom door and headed into the bathroom. How did my life change so drastically? I grabbed the edge of the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I don't know who I am anymore. I'm lost without him. I stared long and hard for the first time in weeks at the hollow shell reflected back at me. My cheeks had thinned, my jaw was narrower, and my collar bone protruded out more noticeably. I'm nothing. I deserve nothing. I could feel the anger and pain bubbling up inside of me as I let out a blood curdling scream. What am I doing here still? My hands flew across the counter and I knocked everything off of the surface. I feel like I have no control of my own life.
I turned and stalked into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I walked over to my stereo and shuffled through the few CDs I didn't break during those first few days, and I pulled out a CD with roses on the cover and popped it into the player. I cranked up the volume and pressed the repeat button twice so that it would loop just the first song. The sound of thunder crashing and wolves howling filled my room, and brought a smile to my face. The guitar kicked in and I closed my eyes as I let the sound of Johnette Napolitano's vocals flood my mind.
"There's a crack in the mirror and a bloodstain on the bed -
Oh you were a vampire and baby, I'm the walking dead."
The words brought chills to my skin. The melodic beat of the bass thumped throughout the room and made me aware of my own heartbeat. The chorus kicked in and I found myself shaking. I slid down the wall beside my desk, next to my window, and wrapped my arms around my jeans as I pinned my knees to my chest. I closed my eyes and sang the next verse along with my stereo.
"There's a rocking chair by the window down the hall.
I hear something there in the shadow down the hall."
I took a deep breath, and then screamed out the next line louder than even Johnette was ever capable of.
"Oh you were a vampire and now I am nothing at all."
I broke into loud sobs as I buried my face in my knees. With my ribs pressed against the tops of my thighs, I could feel how thin I really was becoming. I quickly brought my head up and took in a sharp breath. I got to my feet and walked to the hallway to fetch my purse. I dug through my bag and pulled out the small plastic bag from earlier. I walked back to the window as I tore the package open and pulled out the scalpel. I took the security cap off the tip and tossed it to the floor.
I pushed the window open, and sat with my back against the side. I tilted my head back against the window pane and took another painful breath. The burn from the expansion of my lungs was my constant reminder of the gaping hole that was hidden under my flesh, and it never let me down. The song grew louder as the bass took hold of the entire song. The guitar was screaming as Johnette sang about having a lot to think about. I opened my eyes and looked down at the surgical instrument. I wanted to understand how something so simple had destroyed my entire life. My blood being spilled was the final straw that brought my world crashing down around me. I didn't understand how the physical pain alleviated the pressure in my chest. I pleaded to understand, but I doubted I would never receive an answer.
I knew it would be sharper than I was used to and less of a dull, tugging pain. I also knew I had to be more careful since it was meant to slice through skin easily. I didn't do it for the pain. I didn't do it for the attention. I did it in the desperate hope that maybe my own crimson liquid would hold some answer that couldn't be found anywhere else. I did this to condition myself to the smell of blood, because inside my head I had rationalized that if I could get over the smell, they could have as well; if they had tried. If they had wanted to try. If he had wanted me.
I pressed the tip of the instrument to my upper arm, just under my shoulder cap, and bit my lip in anticipation. I moved my hand at a forty-five degree angle towards my torso and watched as the skin spread open easily; the blood slowly pooled at the surface. The vibrant red brought me a sudden rush of freedom. As the edge glided across my skin effortlessly, I exhaled; the pain was nothing like what I was used to. It was almost like I felt nothing but the release as the blood exited out of my body. I lived for that feeling; the numbness the steel gave me. It didn't ache inside, or twist, or pull. Everything just simply was.
I bandaged my fresh wounds carefully, and headed downstairs. I pulled open the cupboard, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. Just as I took a sip, the phone rang.
"Hello?" I asked curiously. I realized the music was still on loop upstairs as I tried to hear the person on the other end of the line.
"Hey, Bells. It's me," Charlie said quickly – his phone was breaking up.
"Oh hey, Dad. What's up? Everything okay?" Charlie never calls from work.
"Everything's fine. Well not in Port Angeles. Listen, there have been a lot of bad things going on up here, so I'm giving them a helping hand. I just wanted to make sure you girls got home safe and let you know I was going to be home late tonight," he said, his voice almost sounded rushed as the line crackled. "I really wish you weren't staying home alone, maybe you could stay at Angela's or Jessica's? I don't know how late I'll be getting in," he said as he tried to not sound over protective, but the concern was evident in his tone.
"Yeah, sure, Dad. No problem," I responded slowly. Then something in my brain clicked. I wonder how I could pull it off though. Maybe… "I'll head over to Angela's. I just got back from our trip anyway, so I'm sure her parents won't mind if we extend our day together," I added quickly. I could tell Charlie was relieved when he exhaled into the phone line.
"That sounds great, Bells, thank you. Hey, do you think I should call her parents and make sure it's okay?" he added.
"No, no, Dad. It's fine," I responded quickly. God, he can't call them. Shoot, think Bella. "I'll call her as soon as I get off with you. Go help out, don't worry about me. Angela and I had a great time, I'm sure the Webbers won't mind me staying over." I was talking so fast I knew Charlie might be suspicious. I tried to slow my breathing and calm myself. I need to think of a way to convince him they won't mind. "I don't eat much so I wouldn't be imposing that way, and Mrs. Webber told me she was happy to see us hanging out. I'll be fine, Dad, just be careful, okay?" I bit my bottom lip and hoped he would take the bait.
"Alright, Bells. Just drive safe and try and have a good night." He paused. "I'm glad you are finally hanging out with your friends again." I knew he was trying to be supportive, but he didn't know how to deal with words and emotions; I understood his intent though.
"I know, Dad. Take care of yourself too. Get a room if you think you are too tired to drive home. I'll see you when I see you." We said our goodbyes and hung up. Perfect, I thought to myself. A full night to do anything I want and I know exactly where I want to go.
I tidied up the kitchen, and set a plate of leftovers on the top shelf for Charlie. I ran back upstairs and took a look around my room. I shoved the top blanket from my bed and a pillow into my backpack along with my notebook, pens, and scalpel. It was a little tough to zip up, but I finally got it closed. I placed my pocket knife in my back pocket and grabbed my sweater. I grabbed my keys and headed for my truck in the driveway.
Half way out of town, the pain started to rise in my chest again. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, causing my knuckles to turn white. I turned the wheel and pulled off onto a dirt path. I need to say goodbye, I kept telling myself. I knew that I couldn't find our meadow, and that I could never find him. I doubted that I could even get Alice to come see. The only place that left was their old home.
The hole in my chest throbbed when the house came into view. The giant windows that served as the main structure of the house were still as breathtaking as the first, and last time I saw them. I parked, grabbed my bag and hopped out of the car. As I slowly made my way up the stairs to the front door, a rush of panic flooded through me. What if it is locked? What if there is an alarm?
My hand was shaking as I reached out to turn the knob. With a silent click in the gears, it opened effortlessly. I released the door and it swung back, almost like it was welcoming me inside. I reached around on the wall just inside the door and flicked the light switch. I let out a breath as the lights illuminated the bare house. Of course the Cullens wouldn't be worried about an electric bill, I thought.
I glanced around before I stepped onto the marble tile. The staircase to my left looked so empty with no paintings to decorate the bare, white walls. I closed the door behind me as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. I hesitated in the entryway for a moment as I tried to decide what to do. I shuffled my feet under me before I decided to explore the house, but as I began to swing my foot in front of me, I stopped mid stride.
He left it.
The house looked to be entirely empty, but he left it behind. There, in front of me, was his grand piano. I felt my jaw drop and opened my eyes wider as I took in the sight of the black piano against the pure white room.
I walked over to the piano and dropped my bag on the floor beside it. My lullaby began to play in my mind as the hole in my chest seared at my insides. I cringed at the sudden painful memory as I ghosted my fingers along the ivory keys. Why did he leave it behind? Maybe his distractions didn't involve music either, my mind silently retorted.
The words in my head were spinning, and I felt the heartache as it began to fill the hole in my chest. I pulled away from the piano, and headed upstairs. I took each step slowly as I tried to remember what paintings and art pieces used to reside on the walls. I pushed open the first door I came across.
As I stepped into the room, I could smell a subtle hint of mint and leather; Alice and Jasper's room. I walked towards the two doors inside the room and pushed each of them open. One was the bathroom, with a long shiny black tub and dark marble décor. The other room was almost as big as the bedroom. I couldn't even imagine the number of clothes that used to fill the bars, knowing Alice.
The next room down the hall was Rosalie's and Emmett's. At least, I assumed as much, mainly due to the number of mirrors taking up one entire wall, and the strong scent of perfume. I couldn't distinguish the exact fragrance, but it smelled extremely like chemicals mixed with pheromones and was obviously feminine. The tub was larger and was off-white with gold marbling, but the closet wasn't as vast as the previous one.
I recognized the next room as Carlisle's office, and it smelled like old books and warm vanilla. I assumed the room beside it must have been Carlisle and Esme's bedroom, due to the same vanilla scent and a hint of clean linen. As I wandered down the hallway, I dragged my fingers along the white walls slowly behind me. I knew the last room was his room, and so I took my time to steady my breath, preparing myself. I took a painful breath and wrapped my arm around my torso in an attempt to hold myself together. With my right hand, I pushed the final door open and stepped inside.
I took in the empty room with my red sorrow filled eyes. My senses were completely overwhelmed. My memories of his breath, and his scent lingered, making it feel like he was in the room with me.
The entire left side of the room was covered in windows, and held the most spectacular view. My right hand glided along the walls as I wandered the room counter-clockwise. The moonlight filled most of the space and I didn't bother with the light switch. As I reached the floor to ceiling windows, I pressed my palms to the glass. I closed my eyes and was flooded with images of him.
His hands as they glide across my skin. His fingers as they play over the ivory keys to my lullaby. His cold breath as he would kiss me gently each night. His voice as he promised it would be as if he never existed.
The thoughts made me cry out as my knees buckled underneath me. The streaking noise of my palm on the glass made a long squeak as I landed loudly with a thump on the floor.
"Goodbye, my almost lover – goodbye, my hopeless dream," my voice cracked as I whispered the words pent up inside my heart.
"I'm trying not to think about you, why can't you just let me be?" I closed my eyes tightly as I trembled. My arms wrapped around my torso, and my knuckles paled. The words flowed from my lips quietly as I expelled the pain in my heart. As more images filled my mind, I let the pain echo out through my voice.
"Images — and when you left you kissed my lips. You told me you would never ever forget these images," I grew louder as the scent of his room filled my consciousness.
The memory of his jacket wrapped around me tightly as he drove me home that night in Port Angeles; the smell of him on my pillows that lingered for weeks after he left.
"I should've known you'd bring me heartache — almost lovers always do." I curled up tightly as I tried to disappear. I could still hear his voice in my head perfectly as he told me he didn't want me. I tilted my head up to the ceiling as I screamed out the pain that roared to life from deep inside of me.
"So you're gone and I'm haunted, and I bet you are just fine," I cried as I trembled violently. I curled back into my knees and my voice waivered. I whispered the question plaguing my mind for the last three months.
"Did I make it that easy, to walk right in and out of my life?"
I was sobbing uncontrollably as I sang my goodbyes one more time. When the words in my consciousness slowed, I leaned over onto my side and curled up as I shook.
./.
I blinked my eyes a few times and lifted my head to look around, but the pain in my neck and shoulders made me pause as it throbbed through my muscles. The morning sunrise was flooding the room with a beautiful yellow-orange light. I thought back to the previous night and I started to panic.
My blanket is wrapped around me rather tightly with my pillow under where my head was just resting. I didn't have my things up here when I fell asleep, I thought to myself. I could feel my heart beating louder inside my chest as I took shallow breaths.
"Oh God," I whispered. Had Alice seen me come here and returned? No, she would be sitting here, talking my head off by now. But then, who was here?
I jumped to my feet in panic, and turned toward the door where I saw him standing in the corner. He was in the shadows farthest from the window as the light crept in quickly.
"Hello," he whispered softly.
Song question for the chapter: What one song reminds you of a first, or long lost love?