Thirst
In the end there is always one more chance. One more chance for life, one more chance for eternity. I held firm in my belief in that. Unfortunately life was proving me wrong. I was alive, barely. I had my family, and it wasn't fair for them to have to step over my catatonic body every morning. Of course I had an eternity to wait; there would always be one more chance. For everything.
But life is rarely that easy. For every step forward I took, I slid back two. My family was, literally, the only thing keeping me alive. It had been seventy years since I had seen forks last. Everyone who might have remembered the blushing, bumbling daughter of Chief Swan was dead. We lived in the white house; it was just like I remembered it. Elegant but homey. Warm and comforting, just like Esme.
I have sat here for decades. I am tired. I want to sleep.
I sat on the sofa in front of a flat, wide screen TV. My mind is far away, in other days, in another century when I was just a girl. Just a girl who was in love with a boy. I felt the couch shift slightly as Jasper sat next to me. He, out of all of my family understood the best. Maybe was the fact that he was an empath but he was always ready to sit with me, just sit and send a calm over me. Sometimes we talked and I told him what I was thinking but that rarely happened. Instead we just sat and listened. Emmet was always there when I needed to be cheered up, bursting into the room and swinging me into a hug before dragging me off to play a game. Rosalie and I had a gentle give and take; we were still trying to feel comfortable with each other. We bonded the most on Edward and my tenth anniversary. That night I cried in her arms for the love I had lost. Alice was my confidante, I told her everything. That I missed Edward every second of my life and would for the rest of my life. That I missed dreaming. That when I sat on the front porch and closed my eyes I was pretending vampires didn't exist. That we were a normal, happy, human family. That Edward was still alive. That we were just a boy and a girl, in love.
Time passes slowly. Edward forgot to mention that. Or maybe he did and I forgot.
I spent my time on the black couch, listening to music. I was working my way through Edward's CD collection. It shouldn't have been hard, I had a lifetime. But memories are tricky and the songs were bringing back more then I wanted to know. I hated not remembering my own life, my life with Edward. Then, at the same time, I was glad, every memory I lost was one that couldn't come back to hurt me. So I sat and listened, remembering, remembering more then I ever wanted to.
Loss is just as much a part of life as death. In my mind life is the sickly sweet smell of death mixing with the musty scent of long forgotten times, lying with roses and candles on a shelf.
I went to school. I sat in the same classrooms and went over almost the exact same material. And when I didn't need to talk I listened. I sat there and watched as a girl met a boy in her biology class. I sat and watched as she went, so willingly, to her death. Because love is a tricky thing, a fine balancing act. One misstep and you fall. One blink of the eye and you miss the magic. One minute there's love and the next there's only emptiness.
I remember happiness. It felt like a warm blanket slipping into my skin.
I lay on the couch, letting myself slip. Slip into dreams, into the mustiness of old memories long forgotten, just now recovered but stained somehow with the stale and bitter tang of death. Emmet bursts in; he is smiling and radiating joy. Snow drips from his clothes and his hair is wet.
"Bella! Come and play!" I shake off the morbid feeling that this town has brought over me and skip out with my brother, to play in the glittering, sparkling, snow.
Ok, what do you guys think? Yes, there will be another guy, he's coming. As a matter of fact I already know how this ends, which is rare. For now im indulging my emo side and writing weirdly depressing stuff. If you don't like, tell me and I'll put in something happy. Although I have to say, depressing is so much easier to write. Humm, ok we've done candy, how 'bout favorite bands? I really can't decide, there's so many good ones. Right now im listening to Moby Hotel. And my cat is trying to sit on me while I type. Silly kitty.