Disclaimer: The whole wonderfully amazing Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer, not me. :(
Yay, I'm glad you all liked it! I'm so excited to keep writing this story, I have some great ideas going for it! But that's for the fantabulous reviews!
Enoys as always!
Bella POV
"Easy, easy there Bells..."
Charlie kept a firm grip on me as I stepped from the cruiser. Dr. Cullen released me the next day, after I found out the full extremities of my injuries. I had a sprained wrist (nothing that wouldn't go away in two weeks), cuts and scratches everywhere, bruising, a huge gash on my head that was healing, and stitches above my left eyebrow. It could have been worse. At least my truck wasn't damaged, that stupid tank of a car.
It literally took him five minutes just to get me to the front door. I was't that bad.
"Dad, I have school. I can't miss another day."
He had also been trying to get me to miss the rest of the week. I'd only been there two days and now he wanted me to miss the rest? I'd already missed Wednesday, I couldn't miss tomorrow too.
"Bells, you aren't in good condition. Dr. Cullen agrees with me on this one," he said in his "final" voice.
I gritted my teeth. If I wasn't lying to myself, I'd be going so I could see Edward again. I hadn't seen him since yesterday in the hospital and I was dying to talk to him. He was so mysterious and I knew there was more to him that met the eye. But of course, I had to tell myself it was for education. I couldn't be attached to this po-dunk town. There was a reason my mother left with me all those years ago when I was three.
We finally made it to the door and Charlie was busy unlocking it when a sleek, silver Volvo pulled up. My heart started beating immediately as Edward Cullen got out of the car, holding some papers in his hands. He kicked the door shut and pushed a small button on his keychain that locked it and beeped twice.
"Edward! What brings you here?" Charlie asked, pushing the door open. Edward smirked in my direction.
"Just bring Bella her homework. My father said she wouldn't be back until Monday."
"Not if I can help it," I muttered under my breath. Edward chuckled as if he could here me perfectly. He followed us inside and Charlie helped me onto the couch, even though my legs were perfectly able to move without him. Edward sat down on the chair opposite to me as Charlie disappeared into the kitchen.
"Thanks," I said, motioning to my homework.
He nodded, suddenly not so friendly anymore. Well then, if that's how it was.
"Why were you glaring at me on Monday?" I asked, acid evident in my voice. I could play dirty too.
This seemed to take him by surprise. His hands clenched into fists as window blew my hair through the open window.
"I wasn't. You just looked...familiar. Like a girl I used to know," he said.
I suddenly remember my dream. "My mother?"
Edward looked at me strangely. "No, I've never met your mother. Why would you say that?"
"No reason," I said, shaking my head disappointingly. "What about that secret? And don't make up some bull answer either." This seemed to entertain and piss him off all at the same time.
"There is no secret. I told you, you were unconcious for a long time."
I flashed back to when he was holding me. It was so comforting, and he was so gentle with me. "You held me."
It came out more like a revelation, but something in his face changed. "Yeah...the ground was wet and cold."
But this wasn't sarcastic like he usually spoke.
My trance broke suddenly. "I'm sorry. We don't even know each other. This must be weird for you."
But it wasn't weird to me. It was like I've known him my whole life.
"Listen, Bella, I have to tell you someth-"
"Here's some tea!" Charlie said, bursting into the room. I jumped a little, realizing how tense I'd been.
"Tell me what?" I asked.
Edward took the tea politely, but never drank. "Nothing, it was nothing."
I cupped my hands around the warm mug and stared him down. Charlie sat next to me and looked lost.
"I...I have to go."
Edward stood and let himself out suddenly.
"Hmm...strange kid, but nice enough," Charlie murmured.
~.~
The night was filled with endless boredom, thanks to the painkillers I was on. It is literally impossible to sleep while on loratab and ibuprofen. So I sat up reading my old diary from when Mom was in the hospital. I never slept at night then either, and it was a way to pass the time and let out my secrets without really letting them out. It brought back so much sadness to me, seeing the words of pain drift from page to page. Each time I wrote out a small prayer for my mother, but that never did any good. Maybe it was because I'd never been religious so I wasn't doing it right. Or maybe it wasn't meant to be.
November 12
2:49 AM
Mom isn't getting better. The new experiemental drugs just made her even more sick, and her white blood cell count isn't rising. She is so sickly, only skin and bone. Mom doesn't even look like she used to. All her brown hair is gone, the brightness of her blue eyes have turned gray and everything is wasting away on her.
She's dying. The doctors keep telling me, she keeps telling me, I keep telling myself. So why can't I believe it? I don't want it to be true. I can't imagine living without her. She's all I have now. And she's going to die. My mother can't beat it this time, and there's nothing I can do to fix it. I'm useless. I might as well die with her. I wish I could. I wish-
I had to stop. Tears were falling from my eyes and smudging the ink on the page. I slammed it shut and hurled it across the room until the small book hit the wall and fell to the ground, spilling open. I pulled my knees up and buried my bruised face in them and let the sobs come out again. I was starting to think I'd never not cry at night. I could compose myself in the day, but like an alarm, the tears came at night.
And like I did every night, I wished that I had something to live for.
I gave up on the crying bit after an hour and looked at the clock. It was only 1:15 and I was wide awake. I sighed and pulled the stack of papers Edward brought by from my table. I let them spill on the bed in front of me and shifted through. How did he know all my classes? If that wasn't weird enough, there was a small folded up piece of paper at the bottom. I unfolded it to see his elegant script.
Bella, I know all this may seem odd to you, but it would be best if you didn't speak to anyone about what's happened between us. It would also be best if we didn't speak anymore. It's just better that way. -Edward
I read the note three times before letting it slip through my fingers. Of course. He was trying to be a hero and now that I'm fine, he was just dropping me. I was nothing to him, and I never was. Were all guys such asses! I crumpled up the paper and threw it over by my diary. I wanted to scream, but Charlie was sleeping in the next room. So I instead shoved all the papers off my bed and let them fly to the ground before laying down. I fell asleep faster than I thought.
I dreamt of my mother, but it wasn't a mystical made up dream. It was a memory from four months before my mother died.
I was sitting at the top of the stairs, listening to my mother speak to Phil. They were fighting. I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling uneasy. Mom had just finished chemo and wasn't strong.
"...just let it go! It's not a big deal!" my mother pleaded.
"Big deal? You've been keeping this from me Renee! You have let this go on for almost eighteen years!" Phil thundered. I could practically feel the steam from his ears.
"Phil, please. Please just understand! Bella will always be taken care of this way..."
"I can take care of Bella! She's practically been my daughter for the past five years!"
I could hear my mother start to sob. What did she mean "taken care of"?
"Renee, sweetie, please don't cry."
"I'm not going to be here forever, I'm dying, Phil. When Bella goes to live with Charlie...I just need to know that my daughter will be protected and safe. That's it, and she will be."
My heart dropped.
That was the first time I realized that my mother was dying, and that I would have to come live here eventually. I left and missed the rest of the conversation.
~.~
"Dad?"
Charlie turned around from his frying pan and looked at me like I was five years old again. I was sitting at the kitchen table with my legs folded Indian-style.
"Yes Bells?"
I bit my lip, unsure how to go about this. "Before Mom died, she told Phill that when I came here, I would be protected and taken care of, but it made him upset. He acted like it was some big secret, that it was going on for eighteen years...?"
I let my voice trail off into a question. He had to know, surely. But he shrugged. "You're mother was sick, I'm sure she wasn't in her right mind. She probably just meant that I would take care of you and protect you, me being Chief of Police and all."
But I knew he didn't have a clue. So I dropped it and stirred my cereal. I felt like there was some big secret that my mother knew that I don't. It's not like she left me any ideas or even a letter to find out. When she died I tore about the house, looking for a letter she might have written or something....but she never did. Instead I took her small chest on her dresser and filled it with her most prized personal possessions and things she loved.
It's been sitting on a shelf in my closet untouched ever since.
Kind of short, sorry! But reviews are still much appreciated!