Dun, dun, dun! Epic chapter…!
Chapter 12
Edward woke me up early, saying we had to leave before anyone had the time to remember our faces; he made sure we didn't wake up the owner as we left. I was extremely anxious to finally meet my father.
"Alright," He started. "I'm going to go into the most populated part of the village to ask for the right house. Here—" He handed me the intimidating sword, I almost refused to take it, but I grasped it in my shaky hands, despite that. "Stay here, and try to not draw unnecessary attention to yourself. If you need to defend yourself, threaten someone with this. I'll leave our supplies with you."
I gulped; this weapon could kill. I nodded all the same though, taking the backpack as well, and watched as the only person standing between me and danger walked away, and into the crowded market place. I sighed, and my limbs shook.
Oh… I moaned internally, I felt like I was naked in a crowd; I felt so vulnerable. I've got to go to an isolated spot.
My legs carried me swiftly away, putting the sword safely away in my cloak and the supplies slung over my shoulder; I spotted a wrought iron fence, I raced toward it caught between a walk and a run, looking over my shoulder from time to time.
I whipped around to look beyond the fence, and stopped dead in my tracks; it was a cemetery.
Obviously it wasn't kept very well; weeds had make cracks in some of the older stones. I swallowed the eerie feeling that had gathered in the pit of stomach and stepped over the metal.
I spotted a dark silhouette in the distance, under a tree by a tombstone in the ground; my instinct told me to just walk away, but my heart tugged out toward it. I did a double take from where I came and quickly made my way to where he sat.
When I finally reached him, I stayed a good five feet behind him. I saw what he was kneeling in front of; it was an old wooden cross, staked into the ground. He was wearing a ratty old cloak, (even worse than mine) with patches and tears.
"Hello?" I called softly. "Are you okay?" I asked, trying to mediate my voice to be manly. He whipped around, keeping the hood over his face.
"Go away." He said huskily; I realized it wasn't a man, but a boy; he must have been my age or close. He had been crying?
"What's wrong?" I asked more forcefully.
"I said, go away." His hood fell back and his face was revealed, I gasped and took an automatic step back.
It was one of the thugs from last night. The leader, in fact.
Except that the vicious look in his eyes was gone. It was replaced with that look of hopelessness; my fear melted away, but I kept my fingers wrapped around the handle of the sword, just in case.
His face was streaked with tears and his eyes were puffy; my eyes trailed over to the small, nameless, wooden cross crudely stuck in the earth.
"It's you." I whispered, ready to run away.
"Yeah it's me." Fear came into his eyes. "Listen; please don't hurt me, with your powers!"
"Powers?" I asked naively, and then realization flickered in me. "Oh yeah, those, um…I'm not using them today." I brushed it off, trying to get to the root of the issue.
"Huh?"
"Were you crying?" I pushed, changing the subject; I couldn't take my gaze away from the cross planted in the ground. Why didn't it have a name?
"You have two working eyes, what do you think?" He spat venomously.
"Who is that?" I asked, truly curious; who could have possibly been this important to a robber.
"None of your business." He turned back around; fire burned in me and I sat down beside him.
"Look, I'm not leaving until I know you're okay." I didn't make any move to touch him, I was afraid my voice would crack when I said that; I gripped the sword tighter.
"Why do you care?" He looked over, a hint of interest in his eyes, but it was overshadowed with pain.
"Because I have a terrible conscience!" I grunted, crossing my arms over my chest, forgetting to stay out of trouble.
"Ha! That's a good one."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"I saw what you did to my friend, he might go blind now." He spewed, with pain in his eyes; I felt as if I would sink into the ground. Oh. I had done that? Oh yeah; I had done that.
"Oh…I'm so sorry." I offered whole heartedly.
"Save your apology for someone who wants to hear it."
"Hey, you're the one who was trying to rob us!" I replied; how dare he accuse me of not having a conscience when he had been so ready to slaughter us? "You would have killed Edward if I hadn't intervened. You wouldn't have cared."
He turned his face away from me and into the shadows; I saw his hand tentatively come up to stroke the wooden cross.
"Look, I genuinely want to know what's wrong, I'm not as terrible as you think I am," He turned to look at me, I held my breath and I said what I said next. "And I know you're not either." I honestly didn't know if that were true, it just sounded like a good thing to say.
He let out a cold laugh, and his eyes glazed over. "You don't know anything." His hand had fallen from the cross.
"That may be true, but I'm just trying to help."
"I don't want any of your help." He put his back to me and got really quiet.
I could see the conversation was over.
I sighed and took out a small cake Edward had taught me to make; I was saving it for later, however, he probably needed it more than I.
I placed it on the ground next to him. "Enjoy." I muttered.
I started to walk away from him. I wondered how I was going to find Edward; I wondered how far away my father lived—
"What's this?" He asked, peeking at me from over his shoulder.
"A cake." I said nonchalantly while gazing up at the sky.
"I guessed that much, but why are you giving me one?" He asked, truly shocked. His eyes were full of so many emotions, it broke my heart. He was so lost.
"Why so surprised?" I said, trying to find out what exactly the deal was with him.
"Strangers don't usually give a 'trouble maker' like me anything, let alone a cake." He said, as-a-matter-of-factly while biting into it hastily.
"I gave it to you for the same reason I asked what was wrong in the first place." I didn't meet his stare as I said this, it was best to give him some space.
"Hm." Was all he said as he bit into it again.
"Why are you a 'trouble maker'?" I asked; his happy face slipped.
"We have to steal to survive." He murmured, staring at the pastry he held in his hands.
"Who is 'we'?" I probed.
"Remember the two guys you saw me with last night?"
"Oh."
"Yeah." He said tightly. "It's survival of the fittest out here." He mused. I didn't say anything. I remembered Edward had said the same thing not too long ago. "What's it like on the other side?" He asked, suddenly curious.
I realized the pattern then. They all had been curious, like me. I had yearned for some other world outside of my home, to know something besides allt he stifling existed. They had all wondered the same thing. As great as the side was, it was brutal. Horrible, even. They only longed to know there was something without all this death and despair somewhere.
"None of your business." I quoted him from earlier, despite my revelation, I heard him growl in frustration. After a good long silence he finally spoke again.
"This is my mom." He whispered, stroking the rotting wood. "She died when The Wall went up." He said grudgingly. "She wouldn't go to the other side." He whispered, his voice raising an octave. Sorrow overcame me.
"I'm so sorry." I whispered at the same level as he.
"Me too." I was going to ask him to elaborate, but I didn't need to. "If I didn't run and hide, she wouldn't have stayed, and tried to find me. I could have saved her, and told her to leave." He was no longer talking to me, he was obviously musing some deep rooted things. I didn't say anything, for I could only stare in admiration at the cross.
She wouldn't leave her son, and it cost her, her life. She hadn't deserved to die.
"She must have really loved you."
"Yeah." He muttered. "I answered your question, that's what's wrong with me. Now answer mine." I didn't like the way he said it. What was wrong with him?
"Nothing's wrong with you." I said softly.
"S'not what I asked." He murmured, chewing on the last piece of his cake. I thought about my side, unwillingly.
"My life was planned, every little thing about it, was all set out nicely and neatly. It's boring, the houses are all stone, all the clothing dresses, all so refined. Everything is handed to you, no adventure." I said truthfully. I heard him chuckle.
"I'd like a little stability in my life." He laughed softly.
"Then you can take my place over there." I laughed back, and paused. Had I really just said that?
"Sure, sure." Pride washed through me as I finally broke through his carefully composed mask; score one for Bella.
"How'd you get here?" He asked, suddenly very curious.
"I don't know." I replied honestly. "I wish I knew. One day I was at school, and the next I found myself in Edward's house with a head injury. That's the man you saw me with." I told him.
"Too bad."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Jacob." He replied, his eyes turning away from the grave for half a second.
"Bella."
He seemed to ponder that. "Cool, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're here." I sighed in relief, for I hadn't even thought of that.
"Thank you." I said sincerely, and then went into the bag to get something; I brought out a small back of fruits and handed them to him. He just stared at them, as if he'd never seen something like this before.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You said you had friends right?" I smiled, hoping he'd understand. Awareness flashed in his eyes as he took them, I thought I'd made some good progress.
"Wow." He just stared at the bag like it was a foreign concept to him.
My eyes tracked to where I was supposed to be waiting for Edward; "I have to go." I murmured, when I looked back at Jacob, he looked incongruously saddened.
"Okay, bye Bells." Bells? Somehow, that seemed even more intimate than Bella. My heart fluttered.
"Goodbye— oh and Jacob?" I asked, suddenly ashamed by the memory. "That other boy—the one I hurt—can you make sure he gets two? And that he knows I'm sorry?" I said sheepishly, he just nodded, his eyes growing darker.
"Oh, and if you ever come back to Ole' Rust, find me okay? I usually come to this place." He inquired hopefully; what was Ole' Rust?
"Ole' Rust?"
"Yeah, they gave this city that weird number name, but all the locals call it Ole' Rust." He commented, seeming a little smug for holding the knowledge.
"Interesting." We'd never referred Hollow Wood to anything besides its name, it just wasn't right.
Before I went back to the marketplace, I shook his hand (I was proud I still knew what that was and was able to use it effectively), then we parted ways. I still couldn't believe I was able to accomplish something as big as to getting someone like him to talk to me. Someone who wasn't as much as an open book as Edward. It was a nice feeling, helping someone, making them feel better, even a little.
"Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" Edward's voice broke through my thoughts like a knife to butter; I held my hands up in front of me as he stalked towards me.
"Look, calm down—"
"Calm down? I've been worried sick and all you can say is calm down?" What was wrong with him? He was blowing this way out of proportion; he started pacing worriedly.
I took him by the arm and dragged him away from the crowds, and into an isolated alley; I looked around for anyone who might be listening before I continued.
"Okay, you need to breath for a second."
"Breathe?" He mocked again; a slow, steady anger started to build in the pit of my stomach.
"Yes, Edward, breathe." I commanded, hoping he'd drop it; why was he acting like this?
He let out a deep breath and started pacing in the middle of the alleyway, he looked like if he were about to jump out of his skin. My confusion only heightened, he was so different than the Edward I'd known. For some reason, in some primal way, it pleased me that he was so worried about me; so protective.
"But really, what if you'd been hurt?" He stood still, searching my eyes.
I paused, "And what would that mean to you?" I questioned, more suspicious than livid.
His eyes widened in surprise, like I'd caught him doing something bad. I felt a smile spread across my face, he looked horrified.
"Well, ah…" He scrambled.
"Come on Edward, you can tell me." I smiled even more; this was great, this meant he cared at least a little bit about me. I rested my hands on hips, letting the smugness show in my demeanor.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, "There's nothing to tell." He tried to recover.
"That wasn't 'nothing'." I grinned knowingly.
"Um…"
"Admit it, Edward: you like me. I'm growing on you." I threw my hands across my chest, I dragged the information out. His eyes widened in defiance.
His cheeks went deep red. "Oh you are so conceited, that cannot be farther from the truth." He backtracked.
"Then why did you bite my head off?" Alice would definitely be proud of me for being able to keep up a good argument.
He rolled his eyes, "Oh please, you had my sword, and if they had kidnapped you, they would have taken it. That's all I was worried about. That's a great sword."
"Yeah." I nodded, not buying it. "Sure, that's it."
"I was just worried okay? I would have come all this way for nothing." He defended.
"You can worry all you want, but don't yell at me like I'm a child." I ordered, shoving him back toward the wall.
"Ugh." He refused to meet my gaze.
"Got that?" I pressed, wanting him to say it.
"Yes." He groaned, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yes, what?" I used the voice Mother always used when she wanted me to call her ma'am.
"Yes…what?" He asked; I realized he wouldn't know what to say, never having to call anyone ma'am.
"Just watch it." I pushed off him and waited lividly.
He sighed pushing himself off the wall, "Let's go see him."
My eyes lit up, and all my anger disappeared, "My father?"
His eyes rolled so far I thought they'd pop out of his head, "No."
Then suddenly, he took my hand in his.
I gasped; a tingling sensation in my hand began climbing up my arm. Our hands fit together perfectly. I could only gawk as my hand grew warmer and warmer; I didn't dare look at him. What was I to do? Keep it there? Pull away? I knew the logical answer was to pull away, but as I started to, I found something tugging within me to stop and to keep it there. I was shocked at myself, stop being stupid, I scolded. He seemed to be as confused as I was, for he didn't make any move closer or away.
My heart beat took off, and my thoughts cluttered—the only clear image being my hand in his.
Why did this feel so new? I'd held hands with Alice, when we were younger, but only out of friendship. I loved her like a sister, I would die for her, but it never felt like this. My head was screaming to take my hand away, but something inside me wanted to keep it there; why was this tiny gesture so meaningful, and complicated?
"Ah…" He slipped his hand out of mine; I didn't meet his gaze as we walked back into the bustling streets of Ole Rust. What an awkward moment.
I let it go and focused on the encounter to come.
My heart necklace seemed to be alive, burning fiercely against the skin of my throat; I had to ball up my hands to stifle my enthusiasm.
Before, on my side, I never knew I had a father; never dreamed of such a thing. My heart thudded loudly against my chest, but I kept my head hidden from the male faces. But, now I had the opportunity no one else had; to know both my parents. I stole a glance to Edward, who was walking silently in front of me; I supposed I had him to thank for that.
The sun beat down on me once again, and a wave of déjà vu hit me; in Edward's place was a vision of Mother, and I was on my own side. Weaving through the crowded marketplace, with my hair long again, and me wearing a corset which had me in a strangle hold. One similarity stood out, now, on the male side, I had to keep my head down and remain inconspicuous; just for a different reason. In the memory, I kept my head down just because I was afraid of Mother, and also for respect. Now, I had to do it for my life. It disturbed me by the uncanny resemblance.
I went back to busying my mind with the matter at hand; my father. I shivered; yes, that was a little more pressing. What would I say? Questions whirred frantically in my head, and before I knew it, Edward stopped in front of a relatively small home.
"Alright," He turned to me, with a prepared look on his face. "I have an idea."
"Go." I prompted anxiously, he held out his hands to point at the door.
"I go in there first, just to read him a bit, and prepare him; then I come back to get you. Does that seem fair?" He asked, I nodded furiously in reply, wringing my hands together nervously.
"Oh, Edward; what if he doesn't like me?" I seethed, worriedly, not bothering to notice how vulnerable and needy I sounded.
"It will be fine, I'm sure he'll think the world of you." He placed his hand on my shoulder, as he said this, and his eyes held a deep emotion that cut through me and settled in my chest; then, he shooed me away so he could knock on the door.
I went to hid behind a bush, in a daze; had he just genuinely nice to me? Without a catch? Sure, he'd been kind before, but it was never without a snide insider to diffuse it. Usually, it was something about me being stupid or something; he really did just encourage me.
An embarrassing giggle escaped me, the happiness flowing through me freely for the first time ever coming to this side. I had no worries, for a moment. It was like a drug. It was almost as if I could fly.
Along with his kindness, a new sensation arose. Not really a new one, it was merely heightened to a dangerous level. What was it? It was strange, and it made me feel as light as air. It caused me to not act like myself; I wondered if it had a name.
The sound of the front door opening and closing once more, I leapt up excitedly.
"Fa—"I started to call, but it was merely Edward standing there. He had the most peculiar look on his face; sadness? No, that couldn't possibly be it.
"Can I go in now?" I asked gleefully, almost jumping up and down; his face stayed stoic.
"He's not here anymore." He choked out; I cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Why was he acting like this?
"Well then do you know where he is now?" I asked; surely if he lived in another house we could find him, or even another village. I prayed Edward would take me wherever he was.
He swallowed hard, covering up his face with a mask of calm. "No, Bella," He said my name carefully. "You're not getting it." He said slowly, and sighed. "Yeah, I know where he is."
I gasped. "Please can we go?" I begged, ready to get on my knees. A conflagration in my chest burned brightly. I knew I had to find him one way or another; Edward's face sank, but he nodded.
"Okay, follow me." As he walked once again into the road, I saw him holding a small book in his hand. I was about to ask where he got that, but I didn't bother.
As we walked, the tension rose; and I finally noticed we were going back the way we came. Something was wrong; I could feel it in my gut. My joyful mood melted into the ground I walked on, as I trailed behind Edward.
Something told me I didn't want to know where we were going anymore, like I was repressing something my subconscious already knew. We continued to walk, and a feeling of terror began to overtake me.
"Edward, where exactly are we going?"
He never answered.
His body blocked my view, and he turned into a gate. A wrought iron fence. My mind blocked what I knew was coming; I couldn't process it.
Soon enough, I found myself face to face with my father— at a gravesite.
Withered and old, it was as if it'd been there forever.
His name was etched in the stone; I knew it was him because of my last name. I passively noted that Mother kept it instead of her maiden name. What I didn't know was, his first name; it was Charlie. Somehow, it fit.
He was dead.
A horrified sob ripped up my insides, and my knees gave way; Edward just stood there quietly, as I began to break down, piece by piece.
This whole time, the only thing keeping me halfway sane was the endeavor to know my father, to have someone in this cruel, new world that loved me. I'd put all of my hopes, so much effort, into getting here, and it was all in vain. All for nothing. It was almost as if I was finally letting go of my grip on something important, as if this news had jerked me away from the edge. I was now falling, spiraling down. I had lost it. I had lost everything.
All of my emotions flooded within me like a giant tidal wave. Shock, denial, misery, anger. How could he be dead? How could he leave before I got a chance to talk to him? How could he do this to me?
No, it wasn't true; this was a terrible dream. This whole experience, this whole side, had to be fake. Nothing this cold, cruel, this tortuous could exist; I yearned for my own side, my old ignorance back.
I wanted to wake up, to the morning sunlight streaming through my curtains; I wanted to get back to Alice— to Mother. To everything. But, no, I had wanted to know; I'd always doubted my side, the government. It had seemed like a sick joke now.
I didn't know that knowledge came with such a heavy price. My dignity, my limits, my hair, and now, the father I never knew.
Of course, I wasn't that lucky. On top of that, I was still stuck on this side.
I finally understood Edward's broken expression from earlier; I wanted to smack myself for my brainless naïveté. The vision of my perfect father evaporated and left only blackness. All of the things I wished to ask him, to tell him, vanished. Like sand slipping through my fingers.
All at once, my stomach lurched, I bent over, and vomited; right on my father's grave. I felt my heart collapsing inside me, like I couldn't get enough air. I gripped at my chest, as if to claw out my own poisoned heart.
Implausibly, the voice was present in me.
He couldn't be dead, it's not possible! I cried at it, as if it were its fault. For once, shockingly, in my moment of weakness, it comforted me. Like it was wrapping its arms around me. It didn't take away the poison, it just numbed the pain.
Waves of despair roared inside me, and a numb feeling began spreading; I had finally given up.
I give up, World, take me away now. Make the pain go away. I wept to whoever was listening.
My eyes raked crazily over the epitaph. It said he died sixteen years earlier, what good did that information do? All I knew is that I had never had a chance to know him; I never had the chance. Even if The Wall hadn't gone up, I wouldn't have ever known him.
A soft hand came down on my shoulder, snapping me to reality; Edward kneeled down beside me.
"I can't begin to understand how you must be feeling right now." I let out a hysterical cry. He had no idea. "I'm sorry."
"I don't need your pity." I cried, trying to push him away, acting as childishly as Jacob had earlier; I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to wallow in my pain, alone. He didn't budge, though.
He stayed as still as can be by my side, refusing to move; I shoved against his chest feebly, once more.
"Get off me." I tried to stand up. I had to suck it up; I couldn't break down. Not in front of him. "I'm fine."
"No you're not."
"Yes I am!" I growled, trying to get away from the grave. "I'm fine. I never knew him, so I don't miss him." The lie burned my throat as it came up.
"That's not healthy, Bella." He wouldn't let me get up; I was about to pound on him again to move, but something inside me broke down even further, crippling me.
I took a leap of faith then. I had been caught between blocking him out, and opening up to him wholeheartedly.
All this time, I'd been pushing Edward away, denying this warm feeling I had for him that had been building up ever since I awoke on this side. I just couldn't do it anymore.
I turned and wept into his shoulder, not able to meet his gaze; I had no idea why he was letting me bawl on him, but I didn't have the energy to worry. I just kept crying, gripping his arm, like if I were to let go, I would fall into a dark abyss; I kept trying desperately to gain composure. Each time I tried though, I was whammed with another wave of desolation.
I wasn't sure how long he held me, the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours; it felt like two people were holding me; the voice and Edward.
Death was something I have never had to deal with. It was always someone else going through it. Just a passive thing. Never had I been face to face with it, never had it affected me so wholly.
The old vision of myself was slowly crumbling within me— and it was painful. I tried to fight it, but it was an inevitable force. Now, that I was going through it, I was furious at myself. For being everything naïve and immature under the sun.
I hated myself, and hated my father; my head told me it was irrational, but that voice was so insignificant, I couldn't listen to it. Why would he leave me? He couldn't not die before I got to see him? Did he have no desire to see me?
He had lied— he didn't love me at all. "Liar!" I screeched. With all the strength within me, I grabbed the heart necklace. Ripping it over my head, I brought my arm back and let it snap forward. The necklace sailed across the graveyard and I heard a small thud as it hit a tombstone in the distance.
With the sun gone, I could not see where it landed. Clouds covered the moon. It was pitch black.
"The man told me I had to give this to you, he said it was your father's." Edward handed me the book he held from earlier, not meeting my eyes.
"My father's?" I grasped it from his hands, and read the title. It was his personal journal. Edward released me, and moved to walk away from me.
I didn't question why, I just kept staring dumbly at the journal. Why would he give me a journal? What did it matter to him if I got it?
"I don't think he's a liar Bella," Edward was back, and held something in his hands. "I can't imagine you without this, and you'll regret it if you get rid of it." He opened his palms, and in them was the heart I'd thrown across the cemetery. How had he found it?
Without me saying a word, he moved and put it back around my neck.
The journal was big, gaudy, and made of leather. I tried to pry it open, but it refused to budge. I noticed a small lock on the side, and huffed scornfully.
"Great, I've got a book I can't read." I tried to joke, but a small sob escaped from me. I put it under my cloak to keep anyway. I tentatively let my eyes wander to Edward's, and found that he was staring at me. Possibly waiting for another outburst? He broke our gaze and did a double take over his shoulder.
"It's not smart to be out after dark." I hunched over my father's tombstone. I just wanted to read it, one last time. "Or, I guess we could stay here. Another mugging or two makes no difference." He bent down by me once more, and I ignored the comment.
He didn't touch me, and a part of me was grateful, however another part of me wanted him to touch me, to hold me again. I suppose I'd feel that way about anyone holding me.
I peeked to the sky overhead. It was getting pretty eerie looking. Common Sense concluded that it was time to leave, but something inside me was attached to the grave, like it was my lifeline. I felt I would die if I left.
"I can't." I murmured absurdly.
"Alright." I felt Edward take the sword from under my cloak and then, heard the sound of the blade as Edward took it out of its sheath. My eyes whipped to it as he held it out, prepared to slit someone's throat if needed be. I suddenly felt even worse than I did before, for I was putting us both in danger just because of my own emotional issues.
My hands grazed the now invisible epitaph once more, "Goodbye Dad." I whispered inaudibly.
"What was that?" Edward whispered in the same tone I used.
"I said," I swallowed hard. "Let's go."
It seemed like an impossible task, leaving that grave. I felt something had died inside. Maybe it was a mixture of the stress I'd had to bare since coming here that had caused it. The change of environment, having to hide myself, losing my composure time and time again—this was the last straw.
I wasn't sure what exactly had broken inside me, but I didn't want to fight anymore. I just didn't know what I was fighting. I was sinking in a bottomless ocean, all of my energy, all of my motivation to claw back to the top, was spent. Gone.
I couldn't physically get up without Edward's help, for I thought I would be sick again. I was able to feed of his energy to get out of there, for I had no more; it was more like he was dragging around a catatonic body.
Edward had to support me as we walked back to the house we were staying at; I tried with all my might not to glance back at the grave, but I faltered a few times.
I had no idea why he was suddenly being so sympathetic and not hesitating to carry me as I let myself break down; I didn't have the strength to question it. I just knew I needed it; needed him. I was ashamed, taking advantage of him like this; but, I couldn't do this by myself. I was disgusted by the fact I couldn't even pull myself together enough to at least appear halfway normal in the nearly deserted streets. He just held out his sword menacingly at anyone he even glanced our way.
He accepted my wailing and hiccupping as something unavoidable. He never told me to stifle it, maybe he was smart enough not to. Because I wouldn't have been able to; I was grateful for his seemingly infinite patience. I was so thankful I wasn't alone though, that he'd made sure I wasn't; I was drowning, but he was rock I was clinging to, so I didn't get dragged away by the pain. I couldn't pull myself out of the water though; all I had the strength to do was hold my head barely above the raging waters.
The voice never left me, it was constantly there; trying to feed me encouragement, I guessed. I couldn't absorb it. My body was too in shock.
I didn't even look to the old, withered man as Edward dragged me up the stairs and to the room.
My emotional instability cut out a few seconds every once in awhile, like I was on the brink of fainting; I don't even remember going up the stairs, or Edward laying me in the bed.
The last thing I remember is Edward humming the song he'd played on the piano, and feeling my hand in Edward's for the rest of the nightmarish night.
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I took out the journal from the cloak, and just stared at it. If my father had wanted me to have this, why had he locked it? A small hole caught my eye, it was embedded in the lock; it was shaped like a diamond.
Great, there's a diamond shaped key who knows where? I thought to myself. Then I looked down.
Two pieces locked together in my head when I saw the small diamond on the front of my heart shaped necklace. I did a double take between the two; they were a perfect match.