Disclaimer: We do not own, nor claim to own anything that is from the wonderful imagination of Stephenie Meyer.
A/N: Ben: This, to me, is the saddest chapter I have ever written. And for the first time, I cried at my own work, since I had the privilege to scribe most of this morose chapter. I don't even cry easily! Sorry once again for not posting on the right date. I just had this huge epiphany and deleted what I had the day it was to be originally posted!
And prepare yourselves. Do whatever you can: tissues, chocolate, a pillow, a blanket to cover yourself or perhaps muffle your sobs... don't suffocate! :( And enjoy!
Allie: I loved writing this chapter. So much. It's only seconded right now to Imperishable Ties. I love it. It's amazing. Anyway, the playlist has been posted on our bio since like noon today. So hopefully you had some time to get some of the songs and listen to them for some hints into the chapter. :)
What He Would Have Wanted
By cALLIEfornia BENches
We never bought any flowers. Our hasty exit out of the flower shop was followed by blank stares and confusion. I tried to process what happened in my head. I tried to think clearly about everything that was zooming past me: Alice, gone. Alice, not gone. Alice, human. I could not make any sense of it. I would be having a headache if I could.
Silence.
I walked ahead of the Cullens, aimlessly following the path of the concrete sidewalk. I had no idea where I was going. I was still trying desperately to get the gears and pulleys in my head to churn out an answer to such an anomaly. How could this happen?
My shoes scrapped against the grain of the concrete, and created some sort of metronome to my thoughts. Slough, step, slough, step. Alice, human, Alice, human.
I was so deep within my own thoughts that I didn't hear the usual rustling of leaves, nor did I feel the wind lap across my face.
Then, almost surprisingly, I was shoved to the ground with such force, that my back created a small indent upon the sidewalk which we had stood still as statues. The air was knocked out of me, and for the briefest second, the image of Victoria and I flashed through my mind; she was punching me and helping me sail through the trees, only to hit the trunk of a tree with a horrendous thud.
I looked up with shock on my face, expecting to see the she-devil herself. Instead, there stood Jasper, eyes billowing with fury, his hands in front of him, showing that he had done the deed of pushing me. Behind him, stood Esme, her gaze low and her head tilted toward her shoes, as if she would rather turn a blind eye. Rosalie and Emmett stood still, eyeing the scene with confusion and utter surprise.
Carlisle was the only one holding Jasper's arm, preventing him from slamming me further into the concrete. My father's grip must have been strong, because it seemed to be holding him back easily. Yet still, I crouched into a fetal-like position, in fear that Carlisle might decide to let go.
"You lied!" Jasper yelled through seething teeth. His eyes shone a midnight black and gleamed with the gray sky. "You lied! She's not dead! What have you done to her that she can't remember me? What kind of magic is this?" What magic? I was as surprised as he was! He was asking the same things I was asking myself. Had my eyes deceived me?
Jasper was struggling beneath Carlisle's vice as he desperately tried to lunge toward me. His teeth snapped open as he made a loud chomp aggressively in my direction. His arms were grabbing madly at the air above me. I had never seen him like this.
"She was dead... she was dead, and you killed her. But at least then, I knew she loved me! How dare you take her away from me twice, Bella? Have you no heart?!" Jasper bellowed these words into the street. A select few people gathered on the opposite street, glancing nervously at the ruckus. However, none of the Cullens seemed to notice. They were too transfixed with Jasper's sudden rebellion to take in account for human bystanders.
I was completely surprised. I thought Alice was gone.
She was! She had to be! I saw her hand. Victoria even said she killed her!
Jasper had little right to push me. He didn't need to jump to conclusions. What he was saying was easily the most accusatory or hurtful thing I ever heard about me. Tears brimmed around my eyes. Family didn't do this to each other.
The rest of the Cullens stood before me in the oddest of ways. And the small amount of silence gave me time to rebel.
I should have spoken up. I should have stood up for my name. I could have thrust myself forward and made an even louder scene. I should have yelled at him and his idiocy. Couldn't he have seen the shock on my face? Wasn't he supposed to feel emotions? Where was the shy Jasper I met in what felt like so long ago.
But I didn't say anything. Instead, I took the blame and absorbed each and every word, every syllable, of his hate. I let him use me as a sponge, transfer his fury through me, use me for the only thing I was ever only good for anymore.
I blinked back the tears and my vision cleared, along with a slow blur in my ears. Everything was muffled, silent and phased through my mind. It was as if I had worn soundproof headphones, and simply watched the shouts Jasper displayed.
Jasper was still yelling at me, and Carlisle took brief steps back in restraining Jasper in order to keep him a safe distance away from my crouched position. I still had no heart to get up. I was glued to the spot and oddly, the hard floor was comforting. Well, comforting compared to the wrath of fury being dealt to me feet away.
Through Jasper's yelps of hate, Carlisle would firmly plead his son to stop "this foolish act," or a silent "what the hell are you doing?" But he was the only one who seemed to be keeping Jasper in a gripped hold. I never felt so alone.
The continuing roars brought me back to the present.
"...and you know that! She hasn't been anything but a nuisance for the last couple months. Just a zombie, for crying out loud!" shouted Jasper. Each letter seemed to bullet toward me and puncture holes all throughout my body. It was a pain to which I could never die to, no matter how much I wanted to. Jasper turned toward me with pain, "You've ruined me."
I have.
It's my fault.
I'm useless.
My own voice was quivering within my head, as if the truth of his words took upon my foundation and shook it until the stability began crumbling down. I indeed ruined him; I killed Alice. Victoria simply did the deed, but I sent her to the flames. It was all me. All me, all me, all me... I continued to chant my mantra, finding my flaws and pure ugliness with each one finding its way into my ears. How badly I wished I could cry right now.
"So lucky..." This voice was unfamiliar in the scene of screaming and assurances. Rosalie uttered two words, just two. But each spoke volumes of discontent from her lips and each spilled forth pools of regret. It didn't take long before Jasper caught hold of what she was saying, and the explosion was diverted toward Rose.
"What was so damn lucky, Rosalie? Huh? That my wife is dead and she doesn't remember me? Are you happy? Are you somehow so much more fucking sadistic than I thought that you would revel in my sorrows? Lucky?!" His screeching caused many around him, Esme included, to flinch at the volume and digest of his speech; I had never heard Jasper swear.
Rosalie, sensing she was brought into a bad light, straightened and covered her look of surprise with that of pure envy and anger. "Of course she's lucky! How dare you say that? I loved Alice as much as the next person! And last time I checked, Mr. Emotional, you were the one lying in your own worthless pit, with Bella freaking spoon feeding you some of her own!" The glare Rosalie shot at me made me regret how small the hole was beneath me.
Silence.
"What do you mean she's lucky?" croaked a still solemn Esme. She hadn't dropped her gaze at her feet.
Rosalie hesitated, then proceeded, "She has a chance at life, Esme. She has the opportunity to fulfill the destiny she was set out to do!" Her voice softened as she continued, "We shouldn't ruin that for her. We should let her be and be happy for her! I know I'd want you to do the same for me, and with this grief of a cloud above our heads, we could use a silver lining." Her words were perhaps the most honest and hopeful I had heard since I'd been in Denali. For a second, I wanted to stand up and agree.
"Hmph," Jasper snorted, obviously in complete disagreement with Rosalie's heartfelt speech, "You would like that, wouldn't you, Rosalie? Have everyone let you go? Alice wouldn't want that, I know it. Shows how much you value family…" His words stung like a needle penetrating tough skin. I would have expected Rosalie to defend herself, but she nodded and continued. Perhaps she thought Jasper had simply gone crazy; I know I thought that.
"Let her go, Jasper. Let her be," crooned Rosalie. I had never seen her so willing to help.
Instead of Jasper, who had stood still in contemplation, Esme broke the statement with contempt dripping through her voice.
"How could you, Rosalie?" That was all Esme said before she broke her gaze to the floor and turned her back on us, and her shoulders began to heave as silent, wracking sobs pierced through her body. By now, a crowd had formed around us, each face with bewilderment and some with entertainment in their eyes. Esme continued to sob, as Rose began to gather the pieces of her pride that lay scattered on the concrete beside me. Not even a reassuring hand from Emmett upon her shoulder could soothe his wife; she shrugged it away with pained effort.
Jasper turned to me when Carlisle released his grip to hold his wife, "It's all your fault. You did this to us, to me. All this pain, my aching chest, has been your doing, your disease." Rosalie began to sob, using Emmett for support. I did not blink the whole time Jasper spoke.
Jasper began to quiver and tears formed beneath his eyes, "Stop the pain! It burns, Bella. Stop it from eating at my heart everyday! I don't know how much more I can take...YOU! YOU GAVE ME THIS CURSE!" He clutched his chest. I knew the pain he was experiencing so well. "Why? What did I do? Why did you have to give me your pain? Haven't I experience enough through your grief anyway?"
Silence.
"Jasper, calm down..." trailed Emmett.
"NO! Calm is all I've ever tried to be, Emmett! I can't do it anymore, not when I feel like this." He fell to his knees with a pronounced thud. "It hurts so much," he whispered.
I just sat there, on the ruined slab of rock below me. I was too petrified to move, thinking that the slightest twitch would sent another onslaught of knives to stab at my heart again. I simply stared wide-eyed, observing the scene before me.
I ruined this family.
You're absurd, Silly Bella.
Velvet loved to cover any wounds. His sultry sound wrapped me in more pain. He wasn't here to see this. He wasn't here to protect me from these words of stone.
Where was he?
I don't think it mattered. It seemed like this was a wound he just couldn't heal. There were no band-aids for this cut; not even stitches could mend such a wide opening.
Would Edward agree?
Probably, I internally told myself in between brushing away what was left of my tears. It's what he would have wanted...
"Alice... she doesn't love..." sobbed Jasper. He couldn't finish his sentence and yet I couldn't believe his words. They were only thing he said as of now that I didn't believe. That couldn't have been Alice. Alice loved Jasper. She would die for Jasper. With all her heart, Alice loved Jasper.
Esme, through all the turmoil, finally turned around. She slowly looked at the melting form that was Jasper. Her eyes traveled to Rosalie, who seemed to have chosen the time to let everything out. Emmett's face was in dark shadows, no longer the cuddly teddy bear I wanted to hug.
Then, for the first time in months, she looked in my eyes. I was so unfamiliar with her piercing eyes, that I involuntarily flinched where I was.
Silence.
I waited for her to speak with a booming presence, like Jasper did every time after a moment without sound. I prepared for a severe blow to the heart, even though mine was too worn and cut to really do much more damage.
"Why?"
Her voice caught in her throat, and she coughed it back. The little quiver of the word was gentle and soft, unlike anything I told myself it was going to be. Her little sputtering didn't sound like Esme at all; the raspy voice should have belonged to a smoking old lady.
"I loved you like my own? Why?" Once again, her voice didn't seem to want to cooperate with her, and she had to forcefully cough it down.
"I had such excitement for a new daughter. I wanted my son to be the happiest man in the world; he deserved that much. He chose you, out of a crowd of black and white. You were his color," she smiled. Her voice was nothing but a whisper. The smile in itself never reached her eyes and resembled a small curve of a deep frown.
Images of a happy Edward and I flashed through, like photos being sifted from an old drawer of an album. The hue of the pictures seemed faded with time, and too bright in contrast to even be real. But nevertheless, the smiling vampire and girl in the meadow lifted my spirits.
I tuned myself back into Esme's speech.
"You were supposed to make this family whole. I thought that much, at least. I never tried so hard to make someone like me than I did with you. I find it hard to see the same girl before me kneeling in black." I wasn't wearing black, but I knew what she meant; my sorrow and pain. "I can't look at you anymore after this. You remind me too much of what I lost. Edward, my son, the one who deserved all the light in the world. Alice, my daughter, who always just wanted to help."
She choked once again. "You are only as black as what you kneel in, dear. And there are just some things you can't whiten in eternity." Her eyes spoke the things she couldn't say without choking. And though her voice was by far the gentlest and easily the most graceful, It also dealt the most pain. I finally began to sob loudly, pressing my eyes shut in hopes of some worthy tears to streak across my cheeks.
"I never gained the daughter I wanted. I never asked for a zombie bride-to-be. I asked for one big happy family. Instead, I lost family. I never got any in return." She looked at me at the last sentence, clearly mentioning I was never family to her. I ate her words and they slid down my throat with little ease. I swallowed. My sobs returned.
This couldn't be happening.
Oh, but it is.
I mentally punched myself in the gut, telling myself to shut up.
Out of my cries, I heard Esme mutter before she turned once again to face the sidewalk. "When you're a vampire, you can't dream anymore. But somehow, only nightmares are able to come true." Her words didn't seemed directed at me, but merely a narration to the rest of the Cullens, the rest of the world. Esme had given up.
Her eyes moved away from mine. Her speech was over.
I didn't bother with looking at anyone anymore. I just sobbed in place; people were still in the square whispering wondering words, as I could hear. Jasper hadn't moved from his spot and was sobbing just as hard as I. Rosalie was in no means quiet.
"It hurts so much... make it stop! Stop this hammer on my heart!" Jasper yelped softly.
Silence.
My hands dug into my hair and I fought the challenge to scream in a massive roar, afraid to draw anymore attention to the scene. One false move and our simple family fight could turn into a supernatural mass of chaos!
I don't remember how long I wept until the silence was thrust apart. The words, however, were crystal clear:
"Leave."
I looked up to see Jasper was once again standing. Behind him stood a very melancholy Esme, peeking at the floor. Rosalie stood faithfully at his side, glaring at me, while Emmett stood farther back, looking as though he lost his favorite toy. Carlisle was detached from the gang, between them and me.
"Leave," Jasper repeated. His right hand was grasped in a fist upon his heart, twisting the fabric of his sweater and tearing the threads loose. He didn't seem to notice.
My cries had ceased, and with my weak legs, I stood up shakily. My knees wobbled and I kept my eyes at my feet, almost certain they were going to give out and collapse beneath me.
When I was sure I could stand on my own, I glanced up at the assault brigade; my family.
I had so much to say:
I'm sorry.
I'll leave.
Goodbye.
I was going to go anyway. This just comes as a rude awakening.
I'm not wanted?
But unlike Esme, no amount of coughing fits could disperse the clogged throat I had. I just simply stared at the Cullens, each one of them. I didn't bother with Esme, and started with Emmett. He looked so miserable and surprisingly, not angry at all. He was simply void of anything other than sadness. Rosalie looked like she always did before my stay at Denali; extremely displeased with my presence. The only thing that was different was the lack of envy in her black eyes. Jasper looked finalized in anything, and simply over me. I was last week's trash and the garbage man finally showed up.
Carlisle was looking back and forth between the family and I, as if trying to make a decision. I decided my last act as a Cullen to decide for him. He shouldn't have to suffer the woes of his family and me. I was a pest, and a cursed one at that. Jasper pointedly mentioned me as a disease, and I couldn't agree more to the only word close enough to describe me.
I turned around and slowly began walking, away from the Cullens, and away from the curious stares. I didn't dare look back, in fear that I would once again be frozen in spot, rooted to the ground like an unwanted daisy.
It was time to wave away that dream of a perfect forever. I shooed that image of a healing family united under each other's guidance. I kissed away the foolish notions of laughter, smiles, and life.
Goodbye, Bella Cullen.
"Wait! Bella!" shouted Carlisle. I could hear his footsteps, slower than usual, sound toward me.
I had to get away. I knew that if I let him catch up to me, I would find my way back into the arms of my unwanted. I needed to break of with the loose thread that connected me to the Cullens.
Sever it, I told myself.
Don't, love. Please, don't.
The panicked voice of Edward tunneled through my ears, and I looked around, expecting to see him standing beside me, on one knee, pleading me to stay.
But he didn't want to exist to me. He told me so. For the first time, I ignored him and continued to walk, staying clear of Carlisle, and waiting for cover to run off. I would have already, had there not been any witnesses around.
Where, oh where, was Edward when you needed him?
I made it speedily around a building. There seemed to be no one there, but I could hear Carlisle's stomps reverberate ever so closely. There was silence where the Cullens should have been; they didn't want to exist to me either.
Or were they ever there?
"Bella! Let me figure this out!" Carlisle cried.
He couldn't fix this. Not even an angel with healing powers could fix such a mess.
I found it to be right moment to run as fast as I possibly could. Anywhere but here.
The wind rushed and whipped against my face, pulling my hair back against my feminine shoulders, but I could hardly feel it. I couldn't even hear my own thoughts in my head; though I wasn't sure if it was because I didn't want to, or because I just didn't have it in me to think anything.
I had no idea where I was headed, but I would leave that decision up to my feet. Now was the time I had to simply let my instincts take over; depending on my mind only got me into more trouble.
Carlisle's footsteps grew fainter and fainter until I could hear them no longer. Of course I could outrun him; I was a newborn and he was nearing four hundred.
With each push off the ground, each clenched muscle, I felt worse and worse. But not for leaving; no, they all wanted me to leave. That much was obvious. But I felt bad for what I had done. The Cullens I had met two years ago were so much different than the ones I had changed them into. Esme was no longer the caring mother; she was now the mother that couldn't bear to look at her daughter. Carlisle, though still caring and compassionate, had morphed into a somewhat cold and emotionless man.
And then there was Jasper. Jasper; the once cool, calm, and collected vampire had turned into a roaring, raging source of anger. His emotions were completely unbalanced and he couldn't seem to control how he acted towards others. It was scary to watch. Twice now had he blown up on me. He was an Empath, and he couldn't control even his own emotions.
What have I done?
The dense forest surrounded me in all directions, but flew by in a near blur. The silence around me pierced the air—it was like all the animals had stopped moving, just to watch me tear through the forest in a crazy flurry.
It's all my fault. All me, all me. I did this. I ruined everything; everything. I should have left after Volterra. Everyone wanted you to; you know it's true.
As the flood of thoughts sloshed through my mind and waterlogged everything, my brain almost stopped functioning. I couldn't even keep running. Suddenly, in the middle of the forest, I fell to my knees and sobbed uncontrollably. I couldn't stop it. They just continued pouring through my mouth like a broken faucet.
All me, all me... All my fault... Ruined everything... all me...
Even my thoughts were choppy as I sat there, sobbing. All I had wanted was a happy ending. Was that so hard to imagine? Really?
Yes, it is.
Another wave of heaves hit me and I doubled over, clenching my stomach in attempt to quiet myself and keep these wretched noises from escaping my throat. This would be so much easier if I were able to cry.
God damnit, let me cry!
I let out a roar of frustration that died into a pathetic cry at the end. It shook the trees around me—I even heard one in the distance crack and fall over from the reverberations. Another sob escaped my throat, this time much weaker after the force of the roar.
Great, now I was destroying the wilderness, too.
Bella. His voice rang. Quickly, I glanced around me, looking for him. He sounded so close. Within my grasp, almost. I quickly stood up, but nothing was there but the trees around me.
"Edward?" I voiced aloud.
Don't do this to yourself, both mine and his voice rang simultaneously. Both were for very different reasons. Edward didn't want me to keep punishing myself—I didn't want to keep torturing myself with his voice.
I covered my ears with my hands, trying to silence the voices.
"Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop it! Go away!" I shook my head roughly, trying to rid myself of his voice that rang so clearly in my head. He was torturing me. How was I supposed to exist when he continued to torture me like this?
Then, as if someone flipped off the switch, everything quieted.
I stilled. My head was silent for the first time in who-knows-how-long. "Edward?" I asked.
He was gone.
And suddenly now, more than ever, I wanted him back. Even after just seconds ago wanting him to leave, I knew that his voice was the only thing that had kept me sane all these months. It was my last connection to him, my last tie. And it had just been severed; totally and completely. There would be no way I would be able to speak to him now, ever again.
"Edward?!" I asked, more panicked now, my eyes darting from place to place as if he would show up. Like he would just pop out from behind a tree and shout "Just kidding!" But no such luck came my way.
Isn't this what you wanted? My voice asked. It pained me that it wasn't his. Even if it was angry, I would have given anything to hear him speak to me again.
No, no, no, no, no.
I have to get out of here.
Quickly, almost before I could process the information, I took off. I was flying through the forest, my feet hardly touching the ground. I ran as fast as I could, as hard as I could. My feet were in charge now; I had no idea where I was headed. Hell, I had no idea where I was.
I let myself run for what felt like ages, focusing only on the muscles that it took to push myself that much further, to run that much harder. My destination was unknown; I just had to get out of that spot.
Slowly but surely, I was dying.
I shook my head to myself as I slowed to a stop. Slowly, I glanced up to see where my feet had taken me, and found myself in front of the Denali house. I had no idea how I had ended up here, none at all, but I went with it. Slowly—slower than even a human's pace—I made my way to the front door, listening cautiously for the sounds and footsteps of the others.
I could barely hear Irina and Kate talking up on the second floor, and Tanya humming to herself in the kitchen. Carmen and Eleazar must have been out hunting, because I couldn't hear any other sounds coming from anywhere in the house.
Blinking back the tears that were still stewing in my eyes and taking a deep breath, I took the final step up to the front porch and opened the door quietly. It wouldn't escape their notice, but hopefully they wouldn't think much of anything of it and would chalk it up to the Cullens coming home. I don't know what I would do if I had to come face to face with one of them.
I decided it would be best if I stopped breathing; surely they would hear my choppy, still uneven breathing if I let it out. So I stopped.
The floor creaked underneath me as I passed the kitchen toward the stairs, but if Tanya noticed, she didn't let on. She didn't even miss a tune in her humming. Internally rolling my eyes, I moved to the bottom of the stairwell and slowly made my way up. As I passed by Kate's room, I noticed the door was shut—as if that would keep their privacy—and two sets of giggles bleeding through the door.
"...so then I was like 'At least I'm still not pining after the want to be human still,'" Irina said. Subsequently, the two burst into another round of laughter. As they talked about Rosalie, I felt my fury build into my chest. They had no right to talk to her that way.
What are you talking about? Rosalie just treated you like shit. You have no reason to defend her.
Angrily, I moved past the room and toward the second set of stairs. Just as I was turning to go up, I noticed the door to Tanya's room was open. I blinked twice, debating whether to go in or not.
It only took about a millisecond of deliberation before I made my decision.
Just a quick peek. I'll be in and out before anyone notices anything.
Since the day after the broken piano, Tanya and I hadn't spoken a word to each other; a silent truce to agree to completely ignore each other. And so far, it was working out well.
I entered her room and was not shocked by anything I found. It was kind of messy, but not terribly so. At the same time, it wasn't clean. It looked like she hadn't gotten around to dusting it in a couple decades. Dust lined the shelves on her wall, covering the tops of some picture frames. Though some were empty, there were a few of Kate and Irina and Tanya, some of Carmen and Eleazar, and more than enough of just her.
I shook my head and moved on. I didn't need to see Tanya throughout the ages.
Her bed looked like it hadn't been touched in about a year. The creases stood out prominently among the soft crimson bedding.
Her nightstand was white, and atop it was a pretty gold picture frame surrounding a picture of—
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Edward?! She has a picture of Edward on her nightstand? What does she do, lay there and admire his picture like some lovesick teenager after her celebrity crush that she knows she has no chance with but still wastes time pretending she does anyway?
Fury bubbled in my chest when I noticed it was just about the only thing not layered with dust. It looked recently polished.
Not. Okay.
Anger bubbled in my chest like a pot of boiling water that had been left on the stove top too long and was starting to boil over.
At that moment, I heard Tanya's humming get closer and her footsteps leisurely climbing the stairs. Thinking quickly, I snatched the picture of Edward from the table and ran as fast as I could toward my room. I was in there in under a half a second.
I tried taking a moment to compose myself, but nothing was working. All I wanted to do was go back down there and strangle her.
With what little willpower I had, I tore myself from the door and went over to the small desk on the side of the room. I grabbed a loose piece of paper, not caring what may have been on the back, and wrote the only words I felt they needed to hear;
I'm letting you all love again.
I didn't sign it. I knew they would know who it was from, particularly by my messy scrawl.
I sat on my bed, the bed that I had spent most of the last year moping on, and, as carefully as I could, removed Edward's picture from the frame. He looked happy in this picture. It was obviously candid. He had been smiling—laughing, really—at something off to the side. He seemed so carefree. So blissfully unaware of what was going to happen to him. He was leaning casually against the counter, his arms folded in front of him.
Absently, I wondered when this was taken. For all I knew, it could have been taken fifty years ago. Then again, his clothes seemed relatively modern. His usual jeans and a button up shirt. It couldn't have been too long ago.
I gathered both the picture and the note into my hand, leaving the frame on my bed, and went to the door of my room. When I saw that there was no one there, I crept down the stairs and onto the main floor. It was empty, and the silence wasn't reassuring. I couldn't even hear Irina and Kate's muffled chatter on the floor above me.
Even still, I made my way to the empty family room, set the note down on the coffee table and headed towards the front door. I hadn't breathed in all this time and it was beginning to feel uncomfortable. I reached my hand out to turn the knob when she made her presence known.
"Bella," she said simply. That one word was filled with venom. I didn't have to look or smell to know who it was. Tanya.
My hand tightened on the knob, leaving small indentations. I didn't say anything, in fear I would make a fool of myself.
"Where do you think you're going?"
My eyes squeezed shut and I silently wished she would vanish. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to explain to her what had happened. She didn't deserve to know.
A short intake of her breath alerted me that she was much closer than I originally anticipated. "I believe you have something that is mine."
Every muscle in my body tensed so that I didn't pounce on her. Calm yourself, Bella, I thought to myself. Violence is not the answer. If you just ignore her, maybe she'll go away.
No such luck. She reached for the hand that held Edward's picture, but I moved it before she had a chance to accidentally rip it—or worse, just keep it for herself. I clutched the photo to my chest. Now that I couldn't talk to him, this would have to suffice. And I wouldn't be able to survive without this. We both knew that, but she didn't care. To her, the picture was rightfully hers. To me, it was mine. It should have been mine ages ago. And had she had any heart at all, she would have recognized that as well.
"That's mine," she whined, stamping her foot like a four-year-old.
I snapped my head around and glared at her. "That was never yours," I all but snarled. I knew the double meaning didn't escape her notice.
With that, I pulled the door open so fiercely it probably pierced the wall. But I didn't care. I was going to leave, and I wasn't going to come back.
I ran into the dense forest, not once glancing back toward the placed that had housed me for the past year. Looking back would only make me feel worse than I already was. And I didn't need that.
About a mile into the forest, I gingerly folded Edward's picture so it fit into my picket. I didn't want to worry about the damage that the air could do to it. It would be much safer in my pocket.
I don't remember where I ran to. I don't remember boarding the plane, or the plane ride. I don't remember the man that tried to hit on me from the seat in front of me, and I don't remember landing. I don't even remember running from the plane and toward the city.
But the next thing I knew, I was staring up at the gates of the city of Volterra, clasping the picture of Edward tightly in my hand, holding onto the last bit of him I had.
A/N: Ben: CLIFFHANGER!! How did you like it?! I hope you didn't cry. (Well, actually, I do...) There're just 2 more chapters, Allie and I decided, until the big epilogue, which is a sneak peek of the sequel. I bet you all are dying to know the title! The first 3 people to review for this will get it (please don't tell anyone though).
Well... review. I had fun writing this, as I'm sure cALLIE did too. So show us some love and we'll show you a preview of the next chapter.
Allie: Like I said before, I loved writing this chapter. I had so much fun with it. Anyway. TWO MORE CHAPTERS! Are you guys pumped or what?! :) Then on to the sequel... I'm so ready for it. We've got the prologue done already. (Though Ben doesn't like it. I do, though, and it's somewhat humorous. I felt it was a good short break from the depression of WHWHW. Tell Ben you agree with me, and want the prologue to be how it is. :) It'll make me feel better. Trust me, I know you guys will like it.) Anywho, you heard Ben. First three reviewers (if you didn't get it before) will get the title of the sequel. So GET ON IT! :)
Until Tuesday,
-cALLIEfornia BENches.