I know, I know, I know, I know, I know. It's late. I'm sorry. I really am. Really. Honestly.
H A L L U C I N A T I O N
A Twilight FanFiction
By Becky Scarlett-Cullen
Chapter 2
It was a few weeks before it happened again. I wasn't expecting it. I thought I'd stopped it. I was far, now, from the glistening white plains of the Arctic. I didn't know why it was so long, maybe I was working to Bella's agenda. Maybe hallucinatory-Bella had entire control over what she tortured me with.
Whatever the reason, it was the end of January. The 25th, I think. I had travelled back to the UK. It was cold and overcast enough to suit me, but warm enough that animals actually chose to live there, as opposed to the bears in the arctic that were more to Emmett's taste than mine. But the Highlands were one of my favourite places to hunt; plenty of wild animals.
I was hunting when it occurred, luckily. I'd travelled far from the place I was staying, Edinburgh, to hunt. I was in the middle of a glaciated valley, surrounded by heather and bracken. On either side, the mountains rose up to almost-vertical cliff faces. This place was spectacular. But it was completely wiped from my mind, when I saw her.
It was an image of Bella. She was astride a bike. A motorbike!? What the hell did she think she was doing?! What about her promise to me?
I had to keep reminding myself that this was my imagination; it was so incredibly realistic. But perhaps, I didn't mind this torture, if it meant I got to see my Bella again…
That Jacob kid kicked the bike into gear, and stepped back.
"You want me to let go of the grenade?" I bit back a smile at that. It was so… so Bella. Just like her. But she sounded terrified… If I hadn't known better, I could have sworn that this was the real thing… the real Bella. This would be just like her. The nerves, at least. I had no idea where this sudden, suicidal preference for vehicles with two wheels had come from. My imagination, I supposed.
"That's how you move, Bella. Just do it little by little."
I couldn't believe that stupid kid was letting her do this! Encouraging her, even. Didn't he realise how incredibly precious her life was?! Was he that selfish?
She began to loosen her grip, and I became angry. What, was she suicidal!?
"This is reckless and childish and idiotic, Bella."
She heard me now, and my voice caused her to lose her grip entirely, throwing her to the ground. I cried out, but apparently my voice was not audible to her, any more. Was it completely random, then? Could I only break through at certain moments? It certainly seemed like it.
"Bella? Are you alright?"
I did not like Jacob Black's thoughts. Like during the previous, similar occurrence, I could read his thoughts as if I were there. The only mind which remained unreachable was Bella's. The boy's sickened me; no-one should think about Bella that way. He loved her, I realised. But wasn't this what I wanted? Didn't I want her to move on?
The easy answer was no. I was selfish enough for that. I wanted her for myself. I probably always would. I would always be cripplingly jealous of anyone that she chose.
It was a while before she tried again, but try again she did.
"Easy on the clutch," he warned her.
That should have been me. It should have been me helping her, running along beside her. I wouldn't have denied her this, if it had been what she'd wanted. She would never have been in any danger, because I wouldn't allow that, but I'd humour her, by all means. If it was adrenaline that she wanted, I would have given it to her. But this? This was dangerous and reckless and downright stupid...
"Do you want to kill yourself, then? Is that what this is about?"
The thought made me choke. What had I done? What had I done to her? But I could not think about that. Not just now, anyway. I had to save her life, first.
"Go home to Charlie."
"Ease off slowly."
He was going to get her killed. And when he did, I'd kill him. With no mercy. He'd be torn apart. And then I would kill myself.
But, no… this wasn't even real! What was I thinking!? It just seemed so implausible… So impossible… So unlike Bella.
And yet… the realism of my imagination was hard to deny.
"I will."
I wasn't sure who she was talking to; maybe it was both of us. But her answer wasn't good enough. I couldn't help myself. My animalistic tendencies took over, and I felt the familiar rumble in my chest, competing with the roar of her Honda's engine.
She released the clutch, and then she was moving at terrific speed, almost as fast as I moved when running. This could not be happening; if I had been able to sleep, this would have been my worst nightmare.
But I knew enough about motorbikes to know that this was all going horribly wrong. She was going too fast, and she hadn't turned like she should have by now.
"No, Bella! Watch what you're doing!"
That seemed to bring her to her senses, suddenly. I heard her muttering, "Brakes, brakes…"
But that wouldn't do her any good, not now.
I saw her crash like it was in slow motion. Had I physically been there, in this dream world of mine, I'd have been able to stop her. But as it was, I was stuck as a spectator. Imprisoned by my own twisted mind.
I snarled, as loud as the engine, kicking myself. I scowled, wishing that I was there. I was struggling now, running as fast as I could. But, as I reached the coastline, I stopped. Where were these coming from? These hallucinations, that seemed so real?
I feel to my knees, my head in my hands. If I'd been human, I might have been sobbing with the agony of it all, but I was far from human, as I was constantly reminded.
With a great effort, I wrenched myself back into the present. I clearly could not do this; it was damaging, tearing me apart more.
It took me a moment to remember why I was doing this in the first place. I was so tempted to return to her. Maybe I could swim the Atlantic. It was feasible, after all. I would never grow tired, or need to breathe. I could never get cold, and with my speed, I'd be there long before I'd need to hunt again.
But staying away was imperative. Despite the downright stupidity of these Alice-like visions, that was all they were… visions. They weren't real, no matter how realistic they seemed.
Was there no escape from this dangerous trap?