She means too much to me, I thought to myself as we lay together after I'd foolishly assaulted her for sex that I didn't even understand. Where had that come from? My father was less than three hours dead, I was so overcome with pain that I couldn't breathe, and I had just spent the last hour ravaging the only person I had left in the word, and not even lovingly. I squeezed my eyes shut at the images, how I had pushed her face to one side to attack her neck, how I had ripped my nails across her stony flesh, and how I had shoved myself against her. I'd only used her, trying to run away. I'd desecrated my goddess, yet she still held me now like she always had, as if I deserved it. I couldn't be more disgusted with myself, more sick to my stomach at my actions. But– I had needed to feel her, I needed to drown in the bliss that only comes from when she's against me. It was only after she had thrown her head back and her body arched into me that the guilt set in, and now it seemed endless.
Alice knew me better than I knew myself. She had tried to stop me, but in my chaotic perception it seemed like she didn't want me, was rejecting me, and it made everything I was already feeling amplify threefold. It angered me as well, so that when she gave in and let me touch her, I did so forcefully and I never once looked at my mate's face as I took horrible advantage of her perfection from the neck down.
Hence, why I was standing up next to my bed in nothing but boxers, fighting to pull on a tank top, then leaving Alice staring after me as I stomped out, twisting my long hair into a loose ponytail. I didn't even notice that I had stopped in front of my father's gun cabinet until I had my 9mm case and a box of ammunition in my hands, with the back door slamming behind me. Therapy. Therapy, and memories. I remembered when my daddy had taught me to shoot a gun, when I was seven. He had been so careful and gentle about it, teaching me with a .22 rifle, a bolt action. I remembered his assurance that practice made perfect, when I became upset that I had not hit the target even once.
It was getting dark even though it wasn't even five o' clock, mostly due t the rain heavy clouds that hung low above me, and though I was bare footed and had hardly any clothes on, I was numb to the elements as I crossed the back yard to the target range Daddy had set up years and years ago. All I could think about as I loaded the magazine a second later was hoe disrespectful I'd been to my Alice– Alice, of everyone else I could have shown my darker side to, the one that meant the most to me caught the brunt. She was still catching it even now with my silence after I'd made her come, and then I had coldly left her there to wonder what was going through my mind. My desire to be away from her had nothing to do with her. It was me. It was always me who ended up pushing away the ones I'd loved, everyone but my father, and until recently, Alice herself.
"I tried to warn her," I told myself, pushing my glasses up before they fell off my face and into mud. "I knew I'd screw it up." I shoved the magazine into its home. "She's too good for me, Daddy." I took aim with my right hand, my left eye squinting shut. I felt the anger return full force. "That's what you should have told me." I growled as I let my finger fall ten times on my semi-automatic hand gun, each blast like its own separate punch to my own face, which felt amazing, and each tink of the casings as they were released were like brass tears I couldn't shed anymore. The kick back in my straight wrist was like a pulsating heart beat, making me smile somewhat inside. How dare he leave me alone here? I was only twenty, I had no idea what to do from here. In my mind I saw a flash of honey eyes, and I felt myself get even angrier that I had ruined her for myself, that my selfish actions would probably drive her away, same as everyone before her. There was still time to make a decision based on these events, I felt. I was still mortal, and deserved to remain so, as I certainly did not deserve the beautiful soul that waited on me inside while I had a tantrum outside. Mortal meant I could die. Daddy was on that side.
I was disappointed when my gun clicked emptily, and when I lowered my hand, the firearm became excessively heavy, clutched tightly in my fingers as it was. I gazed down at the cold, black steel. Hand held death, I thought to myself, letting my arm fall to my side as I turned my eyes to the targets in front of me, seeing my marks. I would have made one hell of a shot at the academy. I sighed heavily, thinking about my career. I'd wanted to be an agent for the F.B.I. all my life, maybe due to an overdose of the mystique of Hannibal Lecter from a young age. I even went so far to create a fantasy of the perfect murderer, and travel hypothetical routes in my pursuit and eventual capture of him. The hypothesis that Alice referred to as the one that intrigued her was born directly from that fantastic killer.
Gone, just like my father, were my aspirations, my goals, and even my rigid routine. In their place were optimism and love, an eternity of it. Could a real love story be just that, without tragedy? I looked back at the gun in my hand, heavier than ever, taunting me, calling me a coward. I had no control over my left hand as it shook a single cartridge from the box and opened the chamber of my gun, sliding it directly in, then sliding the barrel back, closing it as well as half cocking the firing pin. Alice...
"She's better off," I whispered, convincing myself. I squeezed my eyes shut as I slowly turned the gun around to face me, and Alice's warm buttery eyes, and brilliant smile were all I could see. "I love you, and I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I wanted to be." I brought the half-cocked gun to my lips, pausing at the greasy feel of the metal muzzle, then took a deep breath as I pushed it past them and between my teeth, the taste now on my tongue. Goodbye, my love, I thought to myself, my thumb moving to the hammer. Could I really do this, though? Leave Alice? She seemed to want me forever, literally, and who was I to judge what was best for her?
Though I knew I had not put my finger near the trigger, I felt the gun vibrate and a cold hand clasp onto my wrist, then I was flying, and I hit the ground hard. "ARE YOU STUPID?" A voice roared at me, but it was blurry and I could not see the person, as my glasses had flown from my face as I had soared through the air. "YOU SELFISH LITTLE BRAT! What about my sister, huh? WHAT ABOUT ALICE?"
The wind had been knocked out of me when I landed, so there was no way I could catch my breath to reply to the woman who shrieked these words at me, the one who had me up in the air again, suspended by her frigid hand around my throat. "Do you really want to die? Because it would be my pleasure right now," she went on in a tone that reminded me of frozen silk, and I saw blonde hair, making my mind click in recognition. This was–
"ROSALIE!" I heard Alice's voice yell from behind me in volumes you wouldn't believe from one that was only five feet tall. Rosalie simultaneously let me go, but instead of crashing to the ground, I landed in Alice's waiting arms, which automatically cradled me to her chest. "What the hell do you call yourself doing?"
"She was about to empty her useless brain out of the back of her head! You should be thanking me that I decided to come here! What if I hadn't shown up? Huh? You would be trying to find the nearest bon fire in this county!"
Fire. That's what kills a vampire. I shuddered at the thought in Alice's arms, and I felt her constrict them a little tighter. "She wasn't! Don't you think I would have seen it? Do you think she would have been out here all this time with a gun, if I knew she were about to kill herself? She was thinking about it, but after ten seconds with the gun in her mouth, she was going to pull it out and call for me! Overreact much, Rose? Damn it. She's been through enough today, without you terrorizing her, she's already scared to death of you," Alice said scathingly, and though I couldn't see her features clearly, I heard the scowl in her voice.
Rosalie hissed, and I felt it was meant for me and Alice together. "To not see you broken? Yes, little sister, I overreact that much. I don't trust this–girl–"
"You don't have to, Rosalie," Alice interrupted her, softer toned now. "Because I do."
I felt tears rise again, but I blinked them back and swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at her words. It was quiet then, the two of them facing off, and me curled against Alice in fear of her older, beautiful, deadly sister. Rosalie scoffed, making me jump in my trepidation, and I looked over to see her holding up my gun. "Who shoots a Glock 26, anyway? Buy a sawed off 12 gauge." She disdainfully tossed my gun into its case and zipped it up. "Well?" she barked at me, making me jump again. "Aren't you going to invite me in? It is fucking raining, you know."
Alice took a turn to scoff, but I shook my head at my mate and looked back at Rosalie. "R-Rosalie? Would you l-like t-to come in?" I stammered in the terror she had instilled, and Alice wordlessly turned her back to her sister, carrying me up to the house at a human pace, and she slid my rain and mud spattered glasses back into their place. I gasped at how furious she looked, her eyes as black as they had been the day before.
"You and I are going to have a long talk about this later," she growled at me, and I gulped, scared at what she might say to me. I was thankful that I hadn't done it, thankful that Rosalie had shown up and taken the choice from me, and GOD I was thankful that Alice was real, and I could feel her cool breath as she breathed out of her perfect little nose. I just didn't want her to see the weakness. Not when she only saw my strength. "But as you can see, I need to hunt first."
"Alice, I–"
"Not right now, Andie, I can't," she almost-but-not-quite snapped at me as we came in the back door. I shut my mouth and ignored the way my eyes tightened again. Too many tears today, and I didn't like it. "Just go take another shower, we'll talk when I get back."
She put me down on my feet in the living room, and I slowly drug across the threadbare carpet to the stairs, not looking up at either of the immaculate girls in my living room. "Andie?" I heard that loving tone, the way I loved for her to say my name, and I paused with my right foot on the bottom step, but I couldn't look at her, scared my unshed tears would betray me and fall. How could I have ever wanted to leave her?
I felt her touch beneath my chin, and felt her turn my face to look at her, but I did not come out of my head until her black eyes locked onto mine, and my tear indeed fell free. She cradled my face, brushing her nose against mine, wiping my tears away with caressing thumbs. "It's going to get better, I promise," she whispered, gently locking lips with me, and I saw lights behind my closed eyelids at the sensation. "Rose will stay with you while I'm gone."
I heard Rosalie scoff again, as it seemed to be how she exhaled every breath she every inhaled, but I flinched at the sound reflexively. Alice glared at Rosalie. "Go on upstairs, I need to talk to Rose," she told me quietly, and I went on.
"Can't you go five minutes without hurting her?" I heard Alice hiss to Rosalie.
"Can she go an eternity without hurting herself?" Rosalie shot back, not bothering to lower her voice, making me wince as I shut the bathroom door behind me. What the hell was she doing here, anyway?
A/N: Ah, the beauty of Rosalie's temper. Gotta love it. But I've got the next chapter almost done, so it won't be long til the funeral. After that, I am jumping ahead some months... time to really dig in, guys. I am excited, and I hope you guys are too. Oh, and uh- reviews? Yes? :)