Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Chapter 4
"So let me get this straight," Emmett boomed. Everyone in the dining room was abnormally silent. "Edward is obsessed with a human. Rosalie hates it. Carlisle and Esme are over the moon. Jasper is indifferent. Araminta is about to kill Edward. Alice is happy for a new best friend. Bella Swan will become a vampire. And this is all according to Alice's visions, correct?"
He really is ignorant for a vampire. I thought spitefully, giving him a sour look. Rose shared my sentiments because she glared doubtfully at her mate.
"Yes, Emmett," Alice says wearily. I rolled my eyes at Edward's irritated snarl.
"Awesome!" he bellowed.
No, this is not awesome!
We sat at our convenient dining room table, discussing Edward's obsession with Isabella Swan.
Everyone, besides Rose and I, are happy for Edward.
I am completely pissed. That idiot had become heroic and save her from the van that almost crushed her this afternoon.
Did he even stop to think about the consequences?
Isabella will discover our secret. She'll dig and then dig deeper until she knows the guarded secret.
She will learn that we are creatures of the night.
And they will come.
"Edward! You are so selfish!" Rose hissed. "You risk exposure!"
I love that Rose will fight against this asininity. She'll appear malignant and dispassionate; however, she won't care about her callous reputation.
He glared at her, but didn't defend himself from the truth.
"Selfish? That's rich coming from you!" Alice replied, irritated.
She is 100% Team Edward and Bella. Anyone that goes against "Edward and Isabella's relationship" are also against her.
"Ha! I didn't risk our existence to a mere human in the 90's, Alice," Rose countered haughtily, picking at her nails. I smirked at Alice's indignant and embarrassed face.
"That was an accident!"
"If Araminta wouldn't have killed the human—"
"Enough!" Carlisle yelled. He gave me a scolding look at my proud smirk. I can't help that I like to torture disgusting humans that deserve to die. That rapist deserved to die by my cruel hands.
"What's done is done. Trust in Edward's instinct. We will not risk his happiness," he said calmly.
His happiness? What about our lives?
"Besides, look on the bright side, your brother has found his mate!" Esme beamed happily. Alice cheered in her seat.
Let's throw a freaking party because falling in love with humans will potentially get us killed. I thought darkly.
Edward whipped his head to glare at me. "Araminta, do you have something to add?" he said sharply.
The room quieted, tension filling the room. Emmett straightened in his seat, eager for a fight. Jasper tried to smooth the emotions, but failed because I am about to give Edward a verbal lashing.
"Of course I do, brother," I smiled sweetly. "I am just stating a fact. Isabella Swan will become a vampire."
"Over my dead body," he growled.
I rolled my eyes. You are dead.
"When the Volturi find out and they will, we will die. Suck up your morals and turn her." I hissed, kicking my chair away from me.
"Never." He stood up.
"I'll do it." I threatened.
In a flash, Edward had me by the throat and squeezing tightly.
"For someone denying attraction to that human, you're certainty acting like a possessive and protective mate." I choked out.
"Edward, enough!" Esme cried.
"You will not hurt nor turn her, Araminta."
He squeezed harder. I panicked when I felt my skin crack in his hands.
"Enough!" Carlisle said.
"Stop, Edward." Rose pleaded.
In desperation and trepidation, I slipped my hand out of his grip and touched his face. He fell to the ground in agony, moaning and groaning; his worst experience replayed in his mind. Blocking his vision, I impassively stared at his withering body.
"Araminta Grace Cullen!" Esme reprimanded.
Slowly, my eyes lingered over the faces of my family. Carlisle looked sadly at me then at his withering son on the ground. Alice glared viciously sending me a hateful glance. Beautiful face carved into an impassive and unmoving mask, Jasper sent me love and understanding through his power bond. Rose and Emmett stared imperatively at me; however, neither looked disgusted nor fearful.
"I was defending myself!" I said bitterly.
"Your power is..."
"Evil?" I laughed coldly. "He was the one hurting me first!"
My family flinched.
Storming out of the house, I ran angrily away from the Cullen mansion.
I sat on the ground outside a cafe in Seattle.
My eyes watched a pretty little girl playing on the sidewalk.
Scrambling in my Slytherin-themed book bag (according to Emmett, I am an evil and cunning little thing that deserves to be in the House of Slytherin), I pulled out a sketchpad and a sharp, black pencil.
I began to sketch out the cute little girl playing hopscotch with a couple of friends. Scrunching up my features in concentration, I stroked out the thick, ebony curls that rolled down her back in a French braid. I shaded in her dark red dress, white leggings, and drew out the knee-high black boots. My eyes focused on the tiny details—the scar on her temple, her dimples, the small birthmark on the corner of her lips, the light blonde highlights, the cobalt blue of her eyes, her high cheek bones, the small freckles adoring her button nose, the black ribbon woven into her hair, and the bronze texture of her skin.
In my own world, I tuned out the noisy streets and smell of blood.
Being silent out of womanly duty and freewill for all my life, I am used to the solitude and loneliness that aches within my mind and heart. I love being by my lonesome self and I can't change it. I'll never change it.
Darkening her blue eyes, I pretended not to notice that the little girl I am sketching sit beside me.
"Hello," she said cheerfully.
I spared her a sideways glance, finishing the portrait.
She looked lovely with her twinkling eyes, tan skin, and a fresh handpicked flower in her dark braided tresses.
"Didn't your mother teach you not to talk to strangers?" I said curtly. Maybe she'll go away if I am rude.
She rolled her eyes. "My mom is dead," the girl informed with a sassy shake to her head.
"Sorry," I looked away awkwardly.
"Its fine, my momma is flying with angels. Daddy is over there," she pointed at the man paying at the register. "My name is Tiara Natasha Greene. Call me Tia," she added self-importantly. "Momma told me that I was named after the tiara momma received when she won Prom Queen. She shared her first dance with the Prom King, my daddy. Daddy said that I would be as fierce as Natasha Something, some spy I was named after."
I raised my eyebrow at the little girl. She continued to ramble for a few minutes about her family.
"Then my brother pushed me off my favorite chair! Like I was going to play his stupid video game—"
"Are you done?" I interrupted harshly.
"That's not nice," she frowned.
"I don't do nice."
"Is that why you are sad?" she gazed peculiarly at me.
"Why do you think I am sad?" I inquired curiously.
"My mom had these sad eyes. She spent her whole life staring out the window. Nana said it was because she was battling demons inside her, whatever that means. Anyhow, you look like her. I mean, you gaze at the distance like you are battling a demon."
I chuckled under my breath. A little girl can read me better than my family.
"You're an exquisite little girl," I said with admiration.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I'm awesome. Tell me, miss, what is wrong," she demanded. Taken back, I looked into her fierce eyes.
"I had a rough fight with my brother," I humored her. She nodded understandably.
"Chris and I fight like cats and dogs," she rolled her blue eyes. "Don't worry, he'll apologize."
"I'm afraid, darling, I will be the one apologizing," I admitted reluctantly.
She made a funny face. "I hate when that happens!"
"Me, too."
"Like one time, I punched Chris in the face. But he egged me on! He had my teddy bear!"
"Tia! It's time to leave!" Tia's father hollered while balancing a two year old on his hips and chasing after an eight year old boy.
Tia frowned before heading to her father. "It was nice meeting you!" she yelled.
"Tia, wait!" I ran after her. She paused. "Here, take this picture as a thank-you for cheering me up."
I handed her the drawing before signing Araminta on the side. She beamed at me before looking at the picture.
"Thanks, miss! It's beautiful!"
Skipping after her father, she waved happily at me. I gave her a small smile in return.
Mistakes happen. Anger erupts. Families will disagree. Everything will be fine. I'll even apologize for hurting him.
"Human children will always surprise me," Rosalie said from behind me.
I swirled to look at her. She gave me a soft smile before curling her fingers around my gloved hand and pulling me into a comforting hug.
Rose has always been a motherly figure in my life. She has always gave me the maternal affection I've craved that Esme can't give me. She is careful enough to not get hurt, but she trusts me.
"Come home," she whispered in my ear. I nodded.
Grasping my gloved hand, we ran in the direction of Forks.
"I'm sorry, Edward." I said sheepishly.
"It's fine," he said stiffly. He turned away from me, his fingers running down the keys on his piano.
I am so sorry. I shouldn't have made you relive that.
When he didn't move or say anything, I took the hint and hesitantly walked away from his room.
When I reached the doorway inside my room, I made the split decision to go to my gallery instead.
I ran through my room and jumped down from my balcony to run through the woods. I stopped when I reached my sanctuary that was placed in the middle of nowhere in the woods.
A tall two story building with ivy vines surrounding the black walls was placed in the trees like a kid's clubhouse. It had the evil, villainy charm for people to scurry away and never go inside.
Esme built my gallery in the trees because of my love for seclusion and privacy.
I hit the private clutch on the tree trunk that opened up to reveal the stairs. I climbed the stairs to enter inside my favorite place in the world.
On the first floor, my pictures and drawings decorated the blue walls in the room. There was several seats for people to sit and stare at the paintings. There were two sets of tables and chairs on each side of the fireplace. The spiral staircase in the middle of the room transcended upwards into the second floor.
On the second floor, my private office, my library, and my two bedrooms took up their designated places.
In my office, I had my antique desk, dozens of books on the shelf behind my desk, my important documents, and several art pieces that I have personally collected over my seven hundred years of life.
My library contains most of my beloved books, my biography written by Jane Austen (a dear friend of mine), my autobiography that I wrote two hundred years ago, and personal diaries I have written in over the years.
In my drawing room, I had my art supplies, drawing pads, and dozens of books on art.
In the music room, all of my music instruments were in the organized and right places, my written music pieces in binders sat on the shelves on the wall, and the framed letter I received from Mozart hung proudly on the wall.
My gallery, or Den of Silent Passion as Emmett jokes, is the place where I fully relax and feel at peace. This place is mine. No one comes up here unless they come to see my art work or hear me play the violin or harp.
My two passions—art and music—interact within my personal apartment.
Edward may have the piano, but the violin and harp are my beauties.
My violin and harp are my ways to express emotion without talking.
Drawing externally displays my intense anger or happiness while playing the violin converts my feelings into beautiful pain.
Creating a drawing or a musical piece makes me know that I can create beauty instead of destruction. I can be creative. I can touch and feel. I can be free. I can be emotionally disruptive and not hurt anyone in my velocity.
I stared longingly at my violin.
I haven't played in two decades.
My depression has had taken an elaborate toll on me. I haven't felt the courage or strength to pick up the violin and play a beautiful tune.
My harp, though regularly cleaned and tuned, hasn't been plucked into a song in decades either.
Slowly, I shut the door and walked to my drawing room. Quickly, I cut on my CD player. Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional blasted from the speakers.
"...I am vindicated. I am selfish. I am wrong. I am right..." I sang quietly as I made my way to my drawing desk.
Sitting down, I gazed out the window with a sad, tired sigh.
What if he tells her? What will become of the Cullen family? What if she is changed into a vampire?
The picture in my mind was vivid and realistic.
A strong newborn vampire Isabella tackled a smiling, playful Edward onto the cold, moist green grass in our family field. Smiling widely, Alice latched onto a protective, impassive Jasper, both looking happily at the new couple. Emmett, roaring in laughter, ignored his irritated, eye-rolling wife. Beaming in happiness, Carlisle and Esme gazed at each other with loving gazes. The darkest figure, standing in the shadows, a short girl of fourteen with a small curve to her lips had a look of absolute content and freeness like she has never looked vulnerable and happy before. The Cullen family looked happy and carefree in the baseball field in the woods.
In a fit of inspiration, I painted that exact image of the Cullen family.
I was desperate to finish this piece because it was our family, our happy family.
For the rest of the night, I painted the Edward and Isabella that plagues within my mind.
Author's note: I just watched Breaking Dawn: Part Two. I was inspired. I want to completely finish this series. By the way, sorry, I haven't updated. Honestly, I am really lazy and busy with my senior year in high school.
Side note: I hope I don't make Araminta to depressing. I want her pain and suffering to seem real, and not fake. Hopefully, she isn't awful enough to stop reading her story. Also, now I've explored her homes, personality, and feelings, she can now really focus on more stuff than herself.
Also, I might be doing fast forwarding on some things that are particularly slow in the books.
Up Next: Bella meeting the Cullen family. An unusually enthusiastic and exuberant Araminta attends an art show with Jasper...
Katherine
