I'm sorry to those who all reviewed and didn't receive the rest of the teaser; these last few days have been nothing but hectic.
Chapter 7
The rest of the conversation went 'relatively smoothly', but we didn't get anywhere. No new ideas, just a repeat of what we all knew by now. Nothing. Just keep me a secret, and cooped up here until my memory decided to come back to me from its little vacation; I sure hoped it was having a good time, because I certainly was not.
After Carlisle went back to the hospital, Edward had offered me a change of clothes; as much as I despised the dress, I found my hands clammed up and froze at the thought of leaving this remnant the other side. I just, couldn't do it; not yet. The 'not yet' part frightened me to the core of my being, for 'never' was more like it.
Edward was expecting his brothers to be home today, thus I was condemned to my personal, purgatory. The basement, with the beautiful and luxurious cot with springs that drove nastily into my back.
So now, I lay there, staring up at the invisible ceiling, lightly touching the cool stone of the heart pendant, for it was the only thing to give myself any sense of temperature in this stuffy, hole. I was way past half dead—I'd hit boredom three days (or at least, I thought) ago, I flew past monotonousness around two days ago, and streaked by absolute impatience, and I was about to come to the point where I would soon start seriously considering offing myself right there. It didn't matter if I had to hold my breath until my head exploded—just as long as it ended.
The pitch black sure didn't help either, I had no reference for time or space; it was similar to my dream, except, it was so much worse I was almost positive there was no number with large enough value to describe the enormity of my utter boredom. I felt I deserved Alice's nickname of Drama Queen because even I could hear how ridiculous I sounded, and this was not normal behavior.
The rats had come a good, long, while ago; I had gotten over my horror towards them (though the little creeps still made me squeal every now and again). I had to adjust, if I screamed, someone would hear, and if someone heard, I would be found and if I were found— my thoughts stopped there and I just bit the inside of my cheek until it bled in my effort to keep silent. The rats were endurable.
Ever since turning down the clothes Edward offered, I regretted it. I stunk so bad I understood why he just kind of threw me down here; I would have too. The dress was torn to a point where there was only an insignificant, dangerous amount of coverage; which only layered the anxiety on top of all else; and it was just plain, filthy.
An insolent, little voice in my head called Common Sense told me I would eventually have to give in and ask for the clothes, but currently, that voice was being strangled to death by another voice I was glad to call my Pride. It was all I had left, I had already rejected the clothes, I'd look like a fraud going and asking for them now; plus it would unnecessarily increase Edward's ego, and why would any sane person want to do that?
Besides, how hard could it be to wait this out a little longer? It surely couldn't be that much longer.
Around five years later I gave up on optimism.
My stomach growled, my throat thirsted for the cool sweetness of water (something else I'd taken for granted).
I used to joke on the way to lunch that I was starving. I hadn't the slightest clue was starvation was. How it felt to be truly, ravenous, like I could quite possibly storm up through that door and get some food if this went on any longer.
The door then opened, and a dull light illuminated the doorway. I had no way of telling if it had gotten dark or if the darkness was a result of the blankets. I was about to call up to Edward when he covered his mouth with his finger, telling me to shut up. I clamped my mouth shut, making many angry hand signs to him.
When he had finally decided to get down to the bottom step, I supposed he was being careful not to let the stair creak; he sat next to the cot. I sat there, with my legs crossed, and sweat glazing my face.
"Sorry I took so long—" He started.
"Sorry?" I snarled, quietly. "Oh no big deal, I'll just sit and slowly die while I wait for you to come and save me."
His eye brows came down and he got defensive. "Look, my brothers stayed a little longer than I expected; they do live here you know. I never said this would be easy." He snarled back, using the same tone I had. I didn't say another word.
No matter how completely, furious I was, I couldn't blame him. Though I desperately wanted to. Oh, how I yearned to.
"Okay so where are they now?" I asked, trying to recover from the blow.
"I told them we were out of food again, sent them out on another short raid; it should last about a day. They'll be back by this time tomorrow." He ran his hands through his hair, troubled. He deliberately turned his eyes away from mine, hiding whatever emotion he was feeling; being me, I moved so I could read the book that was Edward. One look at his eyes and you had the whole story; anyone could see what he was feeling.
What I saw in his eyes was guilt. Horribly deep guilt. Though I didn't precisely understand it, and that upset me. My peers were usually so conventional; something in my heart told me this wasn't the behavior for all males. This world would be much different if they were…better? I didn't know. In any case, Edward was obviously not average, for anyone. There wasn't anyone even on my side that matched him completely.
"Why?" I said softly, feeling all my animosity built up in the last day evaporate into thin air, almost quite literally. He noticed my gaze, and turned away once again, briskly.
"Nothing." He muttered.
And as he said this, I felt the strangest sensation, like my heart was, hurting, in the peculiar way. Everything was odd, ever since coming to this side, and meeting this boy, my whole world has flipped. Not in the way you'd expect to. I felt somehow more fragile, more vulnerable. And it was only growing stronger. I hated it. And I didn't comprehend it; it was awful.
But the point of the matter was Edward had been right all along; we had to work together. I wracked my mind for a way to use that as an angle.
"Look...Edward," I started, saying his name carefully. "Like you said, we have to work together; and we can't do that if we're hiding things from each other. And your father explained it too; we won't get anywhere if we're filtering our thoughts and feelings." I pronounced each word watchfully, cradling it; trying to get it across to him. I held my breath, hoping this was getting through his professionally composed mask. It wasn't the fact that my reasons really mattered, deep down I just wanted to know. He didn't answer for an eternity; I prayed he was considering telling me.
Finally he looked up at from a gap in his bronze hair; the emotion was there, but it was reigned in. Reserved, like a feeble attempt to hide it. A weak smile was on his face.
"I hate it when I'm right." He chuckled quietly to himself, and looked away. I laughed softly, with no enthusiasm, hoping to not stray too far from the subject.
"It's nothing for you to be concerned about." He glanced up sheepishly, praying I'd just leave it at that. And I did. I surely didn't enjoy it when Alice pushed for answers; if you gave her even a hint, it was just exactly like you cut open a small fissure, and she ripped it open till it's more related to a giant, gaping hole.
I swallowed my insane, raging curiosity, which resembled a wild horse which has just been set free, and turned to go upstairs to the lavatory; Edward didn't say anything or object as I left him there. He didn't move, it almost seemed as if he wasn't breathing, from his stillness.
Fine, I scoffed internally; two can play at that game. And so, the vow of silence competition began.
Upon entering the lavatory, I noticed a small pile of folded, dark clothes on the counter. I ignored them temporarily, and went through my regular routine, pulling the blanket over the small window open, and caught the sun sinking into the ground. Just sunset? The period of time had felt endless.
Finally, I shuffled over to the stack fabric, still bitter about Edward's refusal to open up.
My heart warmed and a feeling of foolishness coursed through me; I must have been tremendously predictable. The male attire I had abandoned earlier, sat here, pristine and waiting for my acceptance. He'd known I'd need the clothes, and that I wouldn't be asking for them.
I glimpsed over my shoulder, timidly, thinking somehow, Edward would be there watching my display of idiocy. Thankfully he was not. Of course he wasn't, idiot.
There began the war between two imps that resided within me, named Common Sense and Pride. Common Sense won over all.
Vengefully, I set down the clothes, and began unbuttoning the front of the dress; as each button was released, I found sweet air filling my lungs; I even had to cough more than a few times. The relief of pressure was enormous; I stole one giant breath as it fell to the ground.
My eyes trailed over to the solitary shower head, similar to the faucet; I paused, deliberating. Was it polite to use it without asking?
I didn't want to imagine the terrible scene of trotting back down there to ask Edward if I could use his shower. I banished it immediately; I would twist the necks of a thousand baby squirrels before that happened.
Taking a shower was a good thing; I got clean, but the water was so freezing, I soon couldn't feel my face without having to slap myself. I shook violently as the water ran over my hyper-aware skin, what was worse, was that I could literally see the dirt collect at my feet. I'd never thought I was so grimy.
After being pelted by icy water, I stepped shyly in the unfamiliar clothes; they fit strangely, and loosely. I shivered in uneasiness, at the new apparel; I was out of place in them, and yet they fit more comfortably than anything else I've ever worn. They hung loose, and didn't make me feel self-conscious about my body.
I shook out the tension in my muscles, and looked upon myself in the mirror; I appeared tiny in the oversized clothes, you couldn't even see my baby fat Mother was always complaining about. The most abnormal part of it all, I could really move, the tight lace in the back didn't constrict me upright, the fabric wasn't scorching, and I could breathe.
The shirt was dark brown, and the pants (that came right past my knees) were black; I raised my arms, as if I were going to answer a question in school, just to get to know the feeling of freedom. I noticed my cheeks were getting flusher, my color had returned. I looked healthier.
Twisting around, I got a fine view of my figure (or lack thereof in this ensemble); I skipped out of the lavatory, not bothering to check to see if anyone was there, for I knew everyone whom didn't know of me was gone. I caught sight of the piano once more, I grinned a bit at the memory.
I pushed open the basement door, to find that the place Edward had been, was empty; I should have guessed, it made sense that he'd move. A slight wave if stupidity washed threw me.
Just as I turned away from the open door, a loud crash came from around the corner, making me jump out of my skin faster than Mother does when her dresses become too tight around her waist. A shrill shiver rushed over my skin, which was now covered with goose bumps; I turned toward the sound.
The light padding of my bare feet echoed through the now quiet corridor as I was caught in between running and walking. Upon rounding the corner, I discovered the kitchen. It matched everything else; it wasn't decorated, it was just enough to get by.
I shrank back toward the wall; I saw Edward crouched on the floor, grimacing and muttering madly to himself as he quickly scooped up whatever he had dropped. I supposed it was food, but I didn't recognize it (which surprised me none, much to my disdain, because I didn't know most things here). It was all mushy and off-white.
"It's oatmeal." He called out, without even looking up; I sighed. How did he know I was here? I stepped out of my hiding place and moved over to help him pick up this 'oatmeal'.
"You know I have not even remotely a clue what that is, right?" I asked indifferently; his eyes grazed to my attire, and his cheeks rose in a sunny smirk along with a soft chuckle.
"Naturally." He stopped at looked at me. "Nice clothes, where'd you get them?"
"I just found them, you know, lying around." I smiled, resting the goop on the counter as he put the big bowl down.
"Okay," He sighed, motioning to the cabinets. "What are you hungry for? We've got…" He power walked with strength and agility to various shelves. "Oh, look, we've got strawberries. Want some?" He looked over his shoulder at me, I nodded. Strawberries. A shrill of sheer happiness ran through me as the pure thought of something familiar being here along with the piano.
"Sure." I said with a spring in my step as I moved to get next to him; I picked up a strawberry and popped it into my mouth, before grabbing four more and moving out of the room.
His quiet laughter echoed off the walls as I wandered over to the insignificant little book shelf in the corner; the wood was the shade of moist soil, and the books were old and worn, with dust on top. I shot one more glance over to the kitchen, before reaching forward and grabbing one, thinking I'd be scolded.
I didn't see the title, my eyes were glazed over, not really paying that close attention; putting it back in its place, my hand ghosted lightly over the spines of the thick books, looking for one that caught my eye, or if I could recognize any.
None did. Unfortunate, but not surprising.
Boo, boring chapter, I know. :/ But never fear my little pretties, much excitement and plot forwardness happens in the next chapter! *Cheers* Which you will be able to read tomorrow! Here's the teaser, you can get the rest of it if you review:
After a moment, one of them— the lankier one— closed his hard, cold sapphire eyes. "Who are you—?"
"What are you?" The other cut in; quite rudely if I might add, but the other made no motion to stop him. That was obviously the real question.
"What do you think I am?" I asked, not wanting to give up information; albeit, incredibly basic information, but information all the same.
"A… You're a…" The slightly bigger one said; I guessed that was Emmett.
"A woman."