Chapter 2: 'Old Classic' Memories

I was really disappointed when the clouds covered the sun, and even more so when the 'inevitable' rain made a roof necessary. I was ok though, because I found one radio station that played songs from my childhood. I remembered singing along to the songs, and dancing when I thought no one was watching. Those were the safe memories. I guess old habits die hard, and I started singing again. Lady GaGa, Katy Perry, unlikely favourites. When Taylor Swift came on, I smiled. They still played her songs after they realised she lip-synced half of them in 2014? I remembered the crowds of angry fans that were in denial, even until today. In between songs, the radio station continuously reminded us that we were listening to "JUST FM with Eli & Eleanor Eaton's." The name was familiar somehow, but I couldn't quite place where. Then 'Pokerface' came on and all train of thought was lost while I practically shouted the song aloud. I was really lost in my music world, and suddenly realised that I was well past my destination, almost to La Push. I shrugged and smiled. It just meant another half an hour of songs while I went back. At that moment, one of the classic favourites came on –"Hush Hush." I couldn't help but crank my voice up a notch to a volume I didn't know possible. It wasn't as if anyone could hear me, right?

'First I was afraid... I was petrified!' I sang, pretending to hold the wheel in terror. 'Kept thinking I would never live without you by my side' I gestured the empty seat beside me, my stomach clenching in the anticipation for my favourite part. 'But I spent oh-so many nights thinking how you did me wrong and I grew strong' my voice and chest raised, preparing itself, 'I learnt how to carry on..." And I let it out.

'Aaaaaagh-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-aaaaaaagh'

At that volume, I was quite surprised nobody heard me, but I wasn't in Australia anymore, and I was on a deserted part of Forks, on a lonely road in the middle of the day. Nobody would be out, it was still raining. I didn't care anyway if they did, I was enjoying myself too much. I reached Thriftway too soon, after shouting myself hoarse through "So What!" and giggling myself silly through "LoveGame." Another safe memory moment, me and my friend dancing raunchily to it (fully clothed mind you!)

The rain was still pouring when I got out, and I'd expected the sun to stay so I'd not thought to bring my favourite rainbow umbrella. There was a point in my life that I liked rain. Worshipped it in fact. Then I learnt that dancing in it was not worth it once it stopped and you found yourself all wet and cold.

Shopping was easy here. The place was huge, big enough to pass as a mega centre back in Sydney. I really wanted to pay Meyer a visit and drag her here and see how different everything was from what she wrote. Thankfully, each aisle had a sign, so I found items quickly. I found a couple of scented candles made to fill the entire room with the smell of choice, Cookies 'N' Cream & Vanilla for me. I disliked floral scents, and took a few, adding them to the pathetic trolley. It really had nothing in there. I was a girl of needs, and wants were long gone for me. I added a few art supplies, just to make lonely, boring days more bearable, and the cart more presentable.

I was walking to a cash register when I caught sight of a bookstand. It was probably very childish, but I sort of dropped the leaflet I was blankly examining and clapped my hands, saying "Ooh!" I adored books. There were three stands, one for modern books, one for classics, and one for really old classics. I took a few modern, including a mystery/murder story called "Seductive Gun ladies" and I smiled at old favourites, such as "Artemis Fowl" by Eoin Colfer and "Harry Potter." No author introduction needed there.

Then I went to old, old classics. "Little Women" was put in without a second thought. I loved the dear book, and I'd left my copy back in Australia. A few Austen's made it's way to the trolley, and some I hadn't heard of, but looked interesting. I was moving on when a final book caught my eye.

Wuthering Heights.

Aah. Lest come those diminishing reminders of a past which batter my soul and cannot let me rest but to delve into the first moment I uncovered the truth.

I realised I was gasping and holding my handles so tightly my knuckles were white. Nobody was around, so I went unnoticed. I walked on, as if nothing had happened, and silently slipped in Wuthering Heights.

Later, I was in my car, singing Michael Jackson songs when I felt something. I couldn't place what it was. Happiness? Anger? Sadness? I couldn't recognise it, so I simple continued my careless and possibly tuneless screaming.

When I reached the house again, it was getting late. I packed all the stuff away, resolving to buy the clock I'd forgotten, and glanced at my mobile's clock instead. 8:43 pm. I decided to read until 9, then sleep, for although I wasn't jetlagged, I was a bit tired. At once, I departed to a lonely London street under a back night sky with a red robe clad stranger – and a gun.

Some way through, at around midnight, I heard something. I also caught a glimpse of something flash past my window, but I shrugged it off, marked my book, and turned the light off.