As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.
Chapter 6: BPOV
"They say they don't know when but a day is gonna come. When there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun. It will just go black. It will just go back to the way it was before."
~ Conor Oberst
.
It takes all of my strength to walk away from him and just that realization alone frightens me to a point where I can hardly breath.
I keep walking and try to shove all my thoughts away. I try to shove all the good back to wherever it came from.
When I am with him, he sucks me in and I cannot help but feel like reality is just some distant thing. When I am with him it is so easy to pretend that all the other things don't matter, that I am not this person, that I am not living this life.
It's something I am completely unfamiliar with - even when I was with Jacob, when I was the happiest I have ever been since my mom met Phil, it was never like this. I always had the truth hovering over me. I always knew that it would somehow find me. I was never fully free of it, I could never be myself. I was on guard, constantly keeping the walls up, making sure that no one could ever see me.
When I look at him, though, it is almost like I can see myself through his eyes – like I am the girl I see there. I could get lost there and the fact that the idea of it makes my heart warm, is frightening and disturbing.
I take deep breaths as I walk.
Not far now.
I can still feel his eyes on me. I can still feel the hum in the air.
The same hum that I had reveled in all day. Being in that meadow. Lying with him there, I felt like Alice in Wonderland - like I was living a dream - a dream where bad things don't happen, where I can just be.
It took so much to a keep hold on reality.
I couldn't let myself let go and every time I almost did, something reminded me – something he said, or asked – and I am grateful for it.
The guilt swells as I remember.
I cannot allow that to happen again. Just wanting it is enough for the guilt eat me up. The few moments of reprieve I had today are enough to make me feel sick with myself.
I think back to how it all happened.
I had spent Sunday wandering through the woods – something I often do when I need to think, to get away. When I stumbled upon the meadow, I was astonished. I didn't have time to spend there and it was raining so I had decided to come back when the sun was out.
It made me feel better, having a plan, having something to look forward too.
I didn't know that it would be today but when I woke up to the sun peaking through the clouds, I quickly grabbed my blanket and book and made my way to look for it. I was certain I wouldn't find it again but after stumbling around in the woods for about an hour, I walked through the trees to find the most beautiful sight:
Edward was laying, almost hidden in the long grass, purple and white flowers surrounding him. He looked so beautiful, almost inhumanly so. I wanted to turn back, to leave him there, to leave the image uninterrupted, but I couldn't get myself to do it.
I cleared my throat and when he jumped up and saw me standing there, all I wanted to do was run. But the most surprising, the most alarming thing - it wasn't in the opposite direction.
He was amazing as he told me to stay, helping me get settled and then still offering to leave me alone there. It made my chest swell with unidentifiable emotions.
When I was laying next to him, I found that I could hardly concentrate on my book. I was reading the same things over and over and I eventually found myself turning the pages and pretending to read as I listened to his breathing; so soothing, so surreal, so not what I should have been doing, thinking, feeling.
But nothing compares to the feeling he elicited from me as he wiped my tear away.
I touch my face as I remember, still feeling the ghost of a burn there.
The action making me feel lost, swimming in a sea of completely foreign thoughts, feelings, reactions. I never knew how much my sanity relied on my knowing that, no matter how screwed up things were, I always knew where I was, what I was doing and how I got there.
I should never have let him take me home but I couldn't stop myself from agreeing - the idea of extending my little trip from reality, too tempting to resist.
I shake my head at all the memories; the replay doing nothing to relieve the nausea.
I arrive at the house and open the door quickly, without turning back, and walking straight back into reality.
As I get inside, James comes down the stairs.
"Oh, hey babe. Where were you?"
He is wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, his long, blond hair tied back.
"Oh, I was just having a day in the sun - reading." I say as I flash my book at him. I battle to keep my voice even – to betray nothing of the turmoil inside.
"Huh." He says. "The life of a freelance writer." He says it like it means nothing.
He is right.
I hurry up the stairs after giving him a quick kiss hello. I feel as though he will see right through me; my perfectly painted picture is completely ruined, Edward and the feelings he brings out in me, being the water that is washing away the layers, stripping me bare.
As I walk into our bedroom, closing the door behind me, a wave of nausea sends me running to the bathroom. I drop the blanket and book as I run, worried I won't make it.
I heave into the toilet bowl. There is nothing in my stomach and the bile burns as it makes its way up my throat.
The repeated heaving doesn't bring me any relief from the nausea, instead it sucks me in and takes me back to a time, just like this one, where no amount of heaving would make it stop.
A memory I have been fighting since it first occurred.
I begin to sob as I am forced back there.
.
BANG!
The gun burns my hands as the shot rings out. The force of the bullet sending shocks through my entire upper body.
Phil crumples to the ground, his face still holding the look of shock he had as he turned to see me standing there, my father's gun between my hands and pointed right at him.
His gun clunked as it hit the ground only moments before he joined it.
I sob uncontrollably as I drop the gun and bend down to examine my father's body. His blood is everywhere as I shake his unresponsive form, begging him to get up, to be alright.
I lay on top of him, crying, not knowing or caring about what I should be doing.
Time is completely frozen and I am shocked when I feel the vibrations of my phone. I reach into my pocket to fish it out.
James' name is flashing across the screen.
I answer quickly, making the second biggest mistake of my life.
"J-James... I... need... you," I sob into the phone. I am so afraid, confused, broken.
All I want is to wake up from this nightmare.
"Where are you, baby?" His voice is strong and it makes me need him more.
"At... the... cabin," I cry out, before my voice becomes incomprehensible.
Time is still frozen and I am surprised when I feel arms around me. I fight against them.
"Baby," his voice is soft in my ear. "Baby, he's gone."
He turns me into his chest as he holds onto my inconsolable form.
The bile rises up and I push against him as I run outside, heaving just as I am now, trembles wracking my small frame.
I am on my knees in the garden, all control abandoned long ago. I want to scream, to die, to forget, to scrub the drying blood from my hands.
James steps next to me, his phone to his ear as he rubs my back soothingly.
"We need an ambulance." His voice is so sure, so calm. I don't understand it but I am extremely grateful for his presence.
He spits the address out to the operator and hangs up. He bends down and continues to rub my back.
"Shhhh, it's going to be okay." I want to scream at the words, at him. Nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay.
"It's my fault!" I scream through the burn in my throat, through the tears that are threatening to drown me.
"No! Shut up!" He says, as he yanks me up from the ground. "Don't say that, baby! You didn't do anything! We just got here. We walked in, found them there and called the ambulance!"
"Bu-but," I start.
"No! There are no buts! We snuck out together and only came back now," he looked at his watch. "It's 11:03pm, and we got here around 11. Do you hear me?"
I continue to sob. I can hear sirens coming closer. I can see the flashing lights but I don't care. All I can see is my father's body, blood everywhere.
I hear voices an unperceivable time later. They don't ask a lot of questions, they all know my father. They all know what had been happening. Charlie Swan, Chief of Police, died protecting his daughter from her sick perverted step-father.
No matter how many times I say that it is my fault, that it is not what it seems, they just console me.
.
I am laying on the floor, curled up on the cold tiles, when James walks in.
"Oh baby," he says as he picks me up and carries me to the bed. He puts me down and tucks me under the covers.
"Shhhh." He rubs my back. It doesn't help to pull me back from my mind, from reliving that night, over and over again. It only makes it worse. His voice his actions, his presence, they all make it worse.
"What's wrong?"
I don't answer. I can't.
I don't know how long we lay there before the blackness takes me.
xxxxxx
.
I wake up to a splitting headache, my throat on fire.
As I try to move, I am reminded of the day before, my chest and diaphragm raw from all the heaving.
I am once again alone in bed. I turn and see that it is already after 10:00am. There is a note on the bedside table.
Had to go to work. I hope you feel better.
J
I close my eyes as I put the letter back down.
I feel numb.
The feeling continues as I take a warm shower, before getting dressed into my sweats. I brush my teeth three times before the taste of the bile is gone.
I see the blanket and book from yesterday still laying on the floor of the bedroom. I pick them up and put them on the dresser. I feel the hint of a flutter as they remind me of him, of the meadow, of the sunshine on my face. The feeling doesn't last.
I make my way downstairs. I don't eat, I can't face it. I open up my laptop and check my mail. There are a few requests for some articles there and once again, I can't face it.
My phone rings. I get up and follow the sound, finding it on the kitchen counter.
I look down at the screen.
Alice.
I don't answer.
I go and sit down on the couch and switch on the TV. I don't take note of what is on, instead I just sit there, staring at the screen, watching the pictures move, flash and blur.
There are still memories floating around in my head. Memories of my mom's face. Memories of my father – filled with life and after it was stripped from him. Memories of James. Memories of all kinds of before and afters.
I feel broken. Defeated. Empty.
There is nothing.
I don't know how long I sit there but before I know it, James is home.
"Hey, babe," He says as he walks through the door and into the kitchen.
I am surprised by the sound.
"Oh, hey." I say, my voice unused and scratchy.
"How are you feeling?" He asks as he sits down beside me.
"Better." It's the response he wants.
"Good. I brought home some Chinese. I tried to call you but you didn't answer."
"Huh? Oh, sorry. I don't know where my phone is." I lie.
He looks around. "Here it is." He says as he picks it up from the coffee table. He frowns at me.
"You must have been out if it."
"Hmm," I say, not really hearing him.
It's silent for a while so I turn to look at him, wondering why he is not talking.
He is still frowning. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm still not feeling well. But I am fine. Just the flu I think." I say it as I get up.
"Where are you going?"
"I think I need to lay down for a bit. Thanks for getting dinner. I'm sorry that I'm so out of it." I say as I recall his earlier words.
I make my way up the stairs.
I don't look back. When I get into the bedroom, I get changed before walking straight to the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror for my nightly routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face.
I don't feel the usual pangs of self-loathing as I look at my reflection.
I feel nothing.
I walk to bed, get in and wait for sleep to take me.
xxxxxx
.
The week continues in much the same way. I do nothing, say nothing, sleep a lot.
By Friday Alice comes to the house.
I open the door for her and try to smile. She is holding a brown bag and looking at me with concern.
"How are you feeling?" She asks.
I am tired of the question. James has asked me that about 5 times a day. I answer it the same way.
"Better."
She walks in the door and I shut it behind her.
"I brought some breakfast," she says from the kitchen.
Great.
"James said that you aren't really eating so I thought that he was probably just not offering you the right stuff. Men are clueless."
She walks out the kitchen with a smile and a plate stuffed with a variety of muffins and some chocolate croissants.
"That looks great Alice, but I'm just not hungry."
"You have to eat, Bella." Her voice is stern and she grabs my arm gently and pulls me toward the couch.
I sit down as she grabs a croissant and serviette before sitting down next to me.
She stares at me but I avoid her gaze.
"Okay. Let me be more clear. You will eat, Bella. I am not leaving here until you do."
I look at her. Her eyes are hard. She is not lying.
"Okay," I say as I grab a croissant.
I take a small bite and ignore the queasy feeling that accompanies it.
"Happy?" I ask.
"I'll be happy when it's finished."
I sigh but continue eating, hoping I can at least keep it down until she has left.
We sit in silence as we eat. I can feel her watching me but she says nothing.
Once I am finished eating, I am surprised that the queasiness is no longer there.
"So how are you, Al?" I ask, making conversation.
"Good. Just a little worried about you. Maybe we should take you to a doctor."
"No, really, I'm fine. I'm feeling much better today." I force a smile and am surprised at the ease at which lying has come to me this week. "The croissant did wonders. Thanks, Al."
She smiles back. "I am glad you're feeling better, you look terrible. No offense. What's actually wrong? James said that you have the flu but it doesn't look like it."
"It must be stomach bug or something. I've just been feeling a little queasy. Nothing too bad."
"Oh, when I bumped into James he made it sound a lot worse."
I chuckle. The sound doesn't feel right in my ears. "Yeah, he likes to over exaggerate."
It's the best I've got.
She laughs. "Don't they all."
We're quiet for a while. It should feel awkward but I am too tired to care.
"Well, I better get back to work. Do you think you'd be up for drinks tonight?" She asks as she grabs the plate of croissants and walks to the kitchen.
I think about it. Usually the prospect of alcohol makes me happy, but I have no reaction.
"Yeah, sure." I say because it is the expected response. Especially if I don't want Alice hovering over me and forcing me to go to a doctor.
"Great. Should we meet there, say, around 9?" She fishes her keys out from her over-sized bag.
"Sounds good." I say, as she leans over the back of the couch and kisses my cheek.
"Okay. I'll see you later then." Her sing song voice is lighter now; back to normal.
"Thanks again for the food, Al. See you later." I say as she opens the front door.
"Anytime, Bella." The front door closes behind her.
Anytime, Bella. I hear his voice in my head but there is still no reaction.
xxxxxx
.
James gets home early.
"Hey," I say, confused, as I look at the time.
15h00.
"We got it!" His voice is filled with happiness and I am still confused.
He shakes his head at me. "The contract, Bella. The one for the new shopping mall in Spokane?"
I am still confused. "Jesus, Bella. Do you listen to anything I say? I have been talking about it all week!"
"Oh, that's great, babe!" I say injecting as much enthusiasm into my voice as possible, as I get up and hug him.
He chuckles a bit. "A bit slow on the uptake are we?"
"Yeah, must be a side effect of the flu." Flu is now a codeword for whatever it is that is wrong with me.
It helps with the lying.
"We're leaving tomorrow. I know it's soon, but we have to hurry if we want to impress them."
I expect a wash of happiness, or excitement, or something that will attest to the fact that he is going away. There is still nothing.
"How long are you going for?" I ask.
"I'm not sure. We need to see the site before we can give them an estimate, but it's usually a few months. We're hoping to get this done really quickly though."
His smile is the widest I have seen in a long time. "If we get this one right then the chance of us expanding and working throughout Washington are pretty good."
I smile back at him. I better phone Alice and cancel for tonight.
"Why? What plans did you have?" I look at him and realize I must have said that out loud.
"Nothing much. Alice just came over earlier to check on me and since I am feeling better she asked if I wanted to go for drinks."
"You don't have to cancel, babe. Go. Have some fun. You've been sick all week and I'll just be packing anyway."
"Are you sure? I don't mind helping you." I don't want to stay here but I don't want to go out either.
"Yeah. You know I don't really like other people touching my shit anyway."
xxxxxx
.
It's 8 'o clock and I am dressed in jeans and a hoodie and ready to go. James is busy packing upstairs. I grab my bag, taking out my cell and keys.
As I get in the car, I call Alice.
"Hi, Bella." She answers.
"Hey, Al. I am so sorry but I'm not going to be able to come out tonight."
"Oh, are you feeling bad again? I can always just come over there and keep you company instead?"
"No. It's not that. Um, James got a contract in Spokane and he's leaving tomorrow so I am just going to spend the night with him."
"Oh," The disappointment is clear in her voice. "How long is he going for?"
"He's not sure but probably a few months."
She gasps.
"A few months? WOW, that's long. I would die if Jazz went away for that long." There's a pause. "Don't worry, Bella, I totally get it! Enjoy the night with your man. I'll see you tomorrow. " She rambles, in typical Alice fashion.
"Thanks, Al. Enjoy your night!"
I hang up and let my head fall back in my seat. Now what?
xxxxxx
.
I spend the night driving. I drive to Port Angeles and then I drive around there for a while, never leaving my car, before driving back home. I take it slow, trying to take up the time.
Three and a half hours later I am back at home. It's still early but the lights are out.
I sigh in relief.
I get out the car and walk into the house. It feels empty and cold – nothing like the house I remember from my many holidays in Forks.
I make my way upstairs and enter the room. I can see James in bed. He is breathing heavily as he sleeps, facing away from me, the blanket covering his entire form.
I take off my shoes and climb, still dressed, into bed beside him.
The blackness comes quickly.
xxxxxx
.
The dreams are still there. They still wake me up. The only difference is their effect.
All I feel is numb.
I turn over. James is already gone. He woke me up earlier while he was getting ready to leave but I fell back asleep as soon as he was gone.
As I begin to doze off again, there is a knock at the door.
I get up and walk down the stairs, not bothering to even brush my teeth or hair, or make any attempt at looking presentable.
I open the door.
Edward is standing there smiling lightly.
"Hey," his voice is pure velvet and I feel something for the first time in days.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice harsh. I don't want to feel.
His smile falls and I squelch the guilt.
"Alice said you haven't been feeling well, and um, that, well he," he grits his teeth as he mentions James, "would be going away, so I thought I'd just drop off something that might make you feel a bit better."
He offers me a brown bag and I just stare at it.
"Please just take it, Bella. This was obviously a bad idea, and I'm sorry, but I really didn't mean anything by it."
I take the bag and he drops his arm back down.
"Thanks," I force a small smile. "I'm sorry for reacting like that. I'm not a morning person."
He frowns and I can feel his stare penetrating me; seeing things it shouldn't.
"It's afternoon, Bella."
"I'm sick. You sleep a lot when you're sick. It's easy to get confused."
"Have you gone to see a doctor or something?" His voice is gentle.
"Yes," I lie. "It's just a stomach bug. I'll be fine."
I can see he doesn't believe me. Fucking Edward and his knowing eyes.
"Um, well, thanks again." I say as I step back.
"Bella?" He asks before I shut the door.
I look at him.
"Nevermind," he says as he turns to walk away.
I let him.
I close the door and walk to the kitchen. I put the bag down on the counter and open it.
My eyes tear up as I see what it is.
It's crazy what a simple chocolate milkshake can make you feel.
A/N: Okay, I know that was a depressing chapter but like they say – "It has to get worse before it can get better." So I hope that it wasn't too bad!
I love reviews more than Edward showing up at my door with chocolate milkshake! :-)