Six: The Last Time
Bella didn't stick to any of her patterns that night. It made me anxious and I found it hard to keep my distance after the time passed when she would normally have fallen asleep.
I stayed on the bench for the rest of the afternoon and would have just stayed there into the night if it had not been for the car that pulled up before it got dark. Jasper was driving. He wasn't alone; a rather large man shared the small space of the car with him. He had tan skin and dark hair cut short; he wasn't anyone I'd seen before. He pulled a brown paper bag from the floor at his feet and I was close enough that I could see the dark grease spots near the bottom. The man reached inside and pulled a thick looking burger out; I felt my stomach rumble at the sight, but I ignored it. He passed it to Jasper, who tore back the paper and took a bite though he was making a phone call.
I hadn't meant to watch them, but some distant survival instinct told me to pay at least some attention. Their car pointed in my direction and from my spot, I had a clear view of them and they had a clear view of me. I understood, though neither did more than glance in my direction, that they would miss nothing. But they also wouldn't understand that I had to be there, that I had no choice, and that we shared a similar intention.
After a while I stood up and stretched, my running clothes actually serving their purpose. I leaned forward on one leg and thought, I remember this. I switched legs and felt something like muscle memory kicking in. I used to do this. It was like a light turning on, but instead of illumination, it was small flashes of the before time - before Bella. I had forgotten it existed.
I used to run every morning because I enjoyed it and because someone told me they did as well, though I couldn't remember who anymore. My alarm would go off every day. I'd change into sweats, or jersey shorts if the weather was decent, and sometimes I'd listen to music. I'd leave and run three miles while the people around me were waking up, getting their coffee or reading the paper. My life was normal. Sometimes I ran an extra mile or two, past the park instead of through it like I did the day I first saw my angel.
Past the park instead of through it…
For one brief fraction of time, so quick that it could hardly be measured, I regretted ever seeing her.
It disappeared immediately into that vast space where forgotten things go and I stood up. I jogged past the car and when both men looked at me, I looked straight ahead. I went to the end of the block and then around the corner. Bella's home was the fifth one down on this end of the alleyway. I didn't normally look in on her using the back windows, but with her friend watching it didn't leave me many options.
There were two windows at the back of her house; one looked into a room that didn't seem to be used for much. There was a desk and a couple of bookshelves and a few other things; I hadn't ever noticed her in there. In the next window, I could see her living room. This was the one I usually used when I went inside.
Tonight she was there on the couch, curled up tightly as if she were trying to make herself smaller. Her laptop was open and her screensaver was showing a slideshow of photographs of her and other people, only a few I recognized. She was on the phone, but I couldn't hear. I wanted inside.
For some reason, I thought of the scratching, clawing thing that fought perpetually for control and I put a hand to my middle. I felt nothing.
I looked at Bella on the phone again, looked at the other window, and made up my mind. I moved to it and stretched, hoping it was unlocked. It was. I pushed it upward as far as I could and then lifted myself to the sill. I was quiet except for the incessant thundering of my heartbeat. I held myself steady, half inside, and listened for her voice. I saw that the door wasn't closed all the way and a part of me wanted to be seen. But still, as I crawled the rest of the way in, I was silent.
I shut the window behind me and crept closer to the door. I sat down and watched out of the half inch opening between the door and the frame. I pressed the side of my head to the wall to rest and slowed my breathing. I could see her back; she was sitting exactly in my line of vision. Nothing would happen while I was there.
"– probably bored," she was saying into her cell phone. She wrapped her free arm around her knees. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
She was quiet while the other person spoke for a few moments.
"Well, a feeling isn't exactly evidence…I don't know. If it weren't for Jasper, they probably wouldn't have allowed it…sorry for keeping him away." Bella sounded apologetic and faintly frustrated. She sighed.
Gradually, she changed topics, asking whoever it was about their business. It was more comfortable for her this way, I could tell. The tension released in her shoulders as she rolled them forward and backward. Very slowly, she began sinking further into the cushions, stretching her slender body out along its length. I couldn't see her anymore, but was happy that she was relaxing. She had no reason to be afraid.
When she got off the phone it was very late, but she made no move to get up from the couch. In fact, she made herself more comfortable. I watched as her hand appeared, followed by her thin wrist as she reached up to grab a blanket. I imagined her wrapping it closely around herself, tucked under her chin and over her feet. She would close her eyes and sleep peacefully and I would never have to sleep at all.
She left the lamp on and eventually her breathing slowed and evened out; it was so quiet I thought I could hear the slight fluttering of her heartbeat. I stood up and with movements that felt suddenly foreign, walked out to see her.
In the low light, I could see the flush of her cheeks and the smallest parting of her lips. I sat on the coffee table and watched her dream. It was strange and fascinating to get this sort of insight into her mind. She talked in her sleep. I'd discovered that on the first night. Nonsense things mostly, but sometimes not; there were names – Charlie, Renee – and once she laughed. Tonight though, her dreams were different, more like nightmares I would guess.
Her one exposed hand gripped the blanket tightly, as if it would protect her. Her brow furrowed and after a second, she readjusted roughly onto her back, which only served to make her look more vulnerable.
Face flushed, her blue eyes wide and shocked because I was there, again. She held the door like she would slam it in my face if only she could find the strength. She shook her head.
So afraid.
I frowned, brown eyes, I thought; Bella had brown eyes. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to clear the fog. In front of me, Bella whimpered a quiet, "no."
Breathless and shaking, she grabbed my coat so hard. Help me, she'd cried. He'd made her bleed. And she was so, so afraid.
I clenched my jaw and rubbed my eyes, but the image was still there. Different points in time inextricably linked in a memory I couldn't quite see. Blue eyes. Brown eyes. I thought that losing your mind must feel something like this.
Bella made a noise in her throat, low, something like a building scream. Her face was marred with tension from her nightmare. I reached out a hand, remembering what it had felt like to touch her – how I hadn't hurt her like I thought I would. I can do it again. I wanted to make her bad dreams go away.
Very carefully, my fingertips pushed away a stray bit of hair from her forehead. It felt silky as I brushed it back. And then I ghosted a caress over her cheekbone, softly pressing her porcelain skin. "So beautiful," I murmured. If I lived a hundred years, no face would ever compare. She quieted, the lines between her eyebrows fading into nothing.
And then her eyelids fluttered and she woke up.
Nothing was sudden and for a moment that would stretch forever, she only looked at me, eyes wide and unblinking. I wished again that I knew what she was thinking.
Her fingers clutched her blanket and her mouth opened soundlessly. That look was back, the one from the night we met. Her voice was stuttering, "I – I knew..."
I wanted to smile, I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her, "it was only ever you." But her breath was coming too quickly, too loudly, and when I stretched my arms out, she opened her mouth to scream.
I reacted, pushing my hand over her mouth before she could build up any sound. I shook my head at her. "No." She didn't understand. I leaned far over her and I realized belatedly that I was pressing her hard into the cushions of the couch. Her eyes watered. "It's ok," I tried to soothe, "it's ok."
Her hands shoved at me, her nails raking into the skin and cloth they were met with.
So afraid.
My heart beat fast and I thought of her clutching at me, not fighting me. More. I had to make her understand.
Before I could say anything else, she caught my ribs hard with her knee and I grunted, letting her go for just the shortest of seconds. But I recovered, I had to be faster, I couldn't let her go now. She tried to jump over the back of the couch, but caught her foot on the blanket and fell to the wooden floor hard on the other side. I went around and grabbed her around the ankle when she tried to scramble away from me. I yanked her toward me and flipped her onto her back, covering her mouth again when she tried to scream.
I was telling her to stop, to listen. But she was fighting; I grabbed her wrists with my free hand. I straddled her body to still her legs and she shook her head at me, rapidly; I could feel her sob under my hand. I told her to be quiet, that I didn't want to hurt her, that she was making me. "I don't want to do this," I begged her.
Bella's tears slipped from her eyes down into her hair. I could feel her body moving underneath me, but I was too strong. She shook her head again.
"What is it?" I wanted to touch her face the way I had before, gently. I wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be ok. Slowly, I raised my hand from her mouth; it was wet and her cheeks were red.
"Please," she whimpered. "D-don't do this."
I used my thumb to wipe away the tears, but it was no use. "I'm not going to hurt you, Bella, I couldn't. I love you," I cupped her face in my hand.
Her bottom lip trembled when she opened her mouth again. "Ok-k," she said. "But…you are hurting me," she twisted her wrists in my grip.
I looked at her, confused. Did she really understand? Could it be so simple?
"Please," her voice still shook so much it was difficult to make out her words. "I don't want to fight you."
The hope I felt threatened to strangle me. I started rambling about how I had so much to tell her and how everything would be better now that we were together. She nodded, but her body still vibrated with the fear I'd become familiar with. "What's wrong?" I frowned, brushing her hair back.
"M-my wrists…let me go, we c-can t-talk, ok? Just let me go," she nodded again and tried to smile.
I lowered my face to hers until I could feel her breath; she closed her eyes. I released her wrists slowly, running my fingers up one arm. So soft. At the same time, I found her lips with mine. It was chaste, warm, and perfect.
Something to my right crashed to the floor and I looked up, momentarily distracted. What I saw next happened in snapshots – the lamp, it's shade crooked from the fall; her freed hand wrapped around its heavy base. She raised it fast and I felt it connect with my temple. There was blinding, shocking pain, the hard floor, and the feeling of her body slipping out from underneath me. The front door swung open and I heard her screaming for help in the quiet of the night. And then nothing.
Author's Note: Epilogue will be posted right away. Thanks for reading!