Before the chapter begins, I'd just like to give out a big thank you to all of my friends who let me use their lovely names in my story, even though I never asked them. And an extra big thank you to one of my good friends Dawnia, for editing exactly one word and one spacing issue in the first paragraph. Yay friends! :3
________________________________________________
Chapter Nine - Revival
I trudged down the empty hallways once again, to join my friends in the cafeteria.. Of course, I was physically present, but my mind was lost in another space time continuum completely. Unfortunately, that just meant that I was, to say the least, depressed. I barely noticed the anxiious glances my friends constantly shot my way. If I was having a "good" day, I would get annoyed by it occasionally. I would have at least reassured them that I wasn't suicidal, but at last minute, decided not to, so as I wouldn't have to speak .The possibility that voice might sound as dead as my thoughts was too frightening to toy with.
I had been thinking a great deal of my existence for the past two days since Chris's hospitalization, and quite possibly death.
Was I a monster?
Yes.
Was I dangerous?
Definitely.
Should I just leave civilization all together? Make it safer for my family and friends? ...I didn't know the answer to that question quite yet. I knew for certain though, that it wasn't safe anymore for anyone to be around me. It would be only too east to get angry at someone; my parents, for example, and murder them using this sheer willpower, or whatever it was you called this horrible ability of mine. I had to be very careful about making. From what I had witnessed, I was a threat to all human society, and then some.
The phrase, "Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it." had become so ironic it practically stung. I remembered myself as a little girl pressing my tiny hands against the foggy window facing out on 89th street. Everything was so simple then. If I wanted something, I just had to ask mommy and daddy for it. And if they told me I couldn't have it, I would throw a fit for a while, but eventually, I would accept it. But this; this was beyond 'mommy' and 'daddy'. This was my life.
How could I even be friends with Molly, or the other girls in my class, if their lives were in peril every second we spent together? The smiling faces of my new friends flashed through my head. Dawnia, Annie, Suzanne, Kimberly, Lennea, Mary, and so many more...
But I knew deep down that this really wasn't about them. If I couldn'tbe friends with Jacob anymore--The thought triggered a more or less expected spasm of pain. A sharp stabbing notion I had come to come across often now, seared through my body, lingering at my fingertips for a moment, and then subsiding to a dull ache. If I couldn't see Jacob anymore... Then I didn't know what I would do.
I mean, I could probably keep on living and all, but where would the excitement be? The fun? The happiness? Over the past two months, I had become attached to the good-natured shape shifter. His joy was my joy, and his pain was, well...my pain. I could only hope that he would understand when I told him I had to go.
About halfway down the hall I smashed into someone walking the opposite direction. My tail-bone ground hard into the surrounding muscle tissue, but I barely noticed the pain. The voice that resounded across from me made my head snap up, eyes wide, as though someone had suddenly flipped the 'on' switch.
"Oops, sorry Char. Guess we're making a habit out of this huh?"
I couldn't believe it. He sat, legs sprawled out comfortably on the ground, not one foot away, yet I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating. I blinked several times, and inconspicuously pinched myself. Nope. Still there. Blinking roughly a few more times confirmed my all to wonderful discovery, and I opened my mouth to speak.
"Chris? Aren't...Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital? You had a stroke right??" My voice sounded half hysterical to my own ears.
His tone was breezy, untroubled. "Yepp, but I'm all good now. It was crazy! I felt like crap one minute, and the next, I swear I could've run a marathon! They wouldn't let me go until late yesterday though. It was pretty funny watching all of them looking confused, scratching their academically trained heads trying to figure out what had happened." He grinned.
How on Earth...? Had I asked for him to recover like this?? I couldn't remember through the swirling gray haze of hurt. Being a freak had some benefits at least. I ordered the memory to show itself, and eased into the instant gratification.
I saw myself in the lunchroom, chewing endlessly on a bite of sandwich. The old thoughts repeated themselves over in my head again.
'If only a miracle would happen, and Christopher would recover. Be in school again soon even. He was pushy..but didn't deserve to die like this.'
Oh yeah, now I remembered. It was funny how that entire day I'd been begging for Chris's revival, and when he showed up unharmed, I couldn't recall ever having the slightest intention whatsoever. With an overwhelming sense of confused joy, I rose from my spot on the floor, and helped Chris up as well. It was strange; when he took my hand, he didn't put any weight on it at all. Odd.
But that didn't matter at the moment. My heart swelled up, and the happiness was nearly too much. It was dumbfounding. Had I brought my own classmate to the brink of death and back again? It was definitely possible. Though I wasn't nearly as amazed at the near death bit, as the brought back to life one. It was positive I was a freak, but at least I wasn't an entirely evil freak.
After bidding Christopher a cheery goodbye, I skipped down to the lunchroom, and for the first time in days; actually tasted the pb and j sandwich Mom had made.
* * *
After school I had decided to celebrate my unearned triumph with a trip to one of the bumbling little local cafes on the main street. I was whistling merrily as I turned onto Park street, and practically singing, as the jingle of the bell, signaled my entry.
I bought an Italian soda, and then threw in a Madeline cookie just for the heck of it. Might as well go overboard if you had just saved someone's life. Well, sort of saved. Nahh, I just liked the cookies.
The cozy shoppe's walls were painted warm shades of amber, rouge, brown, and orange. A gushy love song filtered through hidden speakers, brightening the already welcoming atmosphere quite thoroughly. The furniture wasn't bad either. Comfy. Like StarBucks, but homeier. A smile spread out on my face, the corners of my mouth impossible to restrain. But it felt nice, and I found myself grinning at the waitress when she came to serve me my drink.
I sipped at the drink dreamily, replaying the moment when I saw Christopher fine and well over and over again in my head. I polished off the Madeline quickly with more thoughts of my -temporarily- requited status as a murderer. Just as Louis Armstrong's, What a Wonderful World came on, I felt someone sit down next to me. Curious, I swivelled my head, to meet the gaze of a tall, lanky boy about seventeen years old. He had a deathly pale complexion, but somehow he managed to put out an undying, glowing aura.
"Hello." He smiled carefully, as though not to show his teeth.
"Heya," I grinned back. I was grinning at everyone today. "Why the tentative face?"
He seemed to look abashed, though I couldn't quite tell, as a lock of shiny auburn hair fell over one eye, masking his emotions.
"I'm not sure.." he frowned.
"Well then how about an easier question." I teased. "What brings you here? Particularly to this area of the couch."
"Well, I saw you through the glass, and you appeared rather..content. Perhaps I was drawn to your attitude." He mused. "It seems you don't see happy people around here." He smiled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth.
"I see. So are you a Cullen?" I questioned, unabashed. His pure, pearl colored skin had to mean something. Nevertheless the fact that he suddenly had a wary look about his eyes.
"Yes...How did you know?" Uh oh. He was suspicious.
"Well...uh.." I had to think fast. Fortunately, thinking quickly is one of the few things I'm good at. It came naturally like a bee to honey. "A bunch of girls at my school are all about your family. Crazy if you ask me, but I guess you're known for the eyes or something. I think they're a very nice color, but maybe that's just me."
Well that was partly true. At my old school, there were countless Twilight fan girl clubs. Pointless, ridiculous, but quite popular. It was only probable that it was a similar matter here, though none of the teenage population seemed to notice Jacob and the wolves much in this particular little town.
He sighed morosely. "That sounds about right."
"Not to thrilled about that, are you?"
"Not necessarily. It isn't very enjoyable being judged by your looks rather than your personality..." A sense of longing flickered through his honey suckle eyes.
"Welcome to life" I sympathized.
He smile bashfully. " I suppose you're right. So.. what is your name, all knowing prophet?"
"No dice," I smirked. "I was here first remember? So you have to tell me your name before I do."
"That sounds only fair" He chuckled, "My name is Austen L. Cullen. You might know one of my friends..Tristan's his name. The girls take after him frequently.." *Shudder* "And you are..?"
"Charlotte. Charlotte Delia Swanson. Tristan's the name of that guy in James Herriot, right? His brother or something. And who was that older guy..? The head Veterinarian?"
"Oh Seigfried. Yes, he was quite a character wasn't he? The man was very kind. We got along quite well actually, I always–' He slapped a hand over his mouth, studying my face carefully, looking for any signs of horror, realization, etc., etc.
It kind of surprised me how much this annoyed me. So what if I knew that he was a vampire? Well, I could give away his secret, but no-one would believe me anyhow. And all that would do would be getting myself killed. If what I'd read about the Volturi was correct, I didn't think they'd approve of my knowledge of immortal matters..Not that the nitwits approved of much anyway.
I could imagine a typical day - Or night - in their darling medieval turret home. 'Caius darling, would you fetch me a human? I'm dreadfully thirsty.' Aro would say. And the Caius of course, would bow his head or something, find the best smelling person in the city, and offer it to his precious Aro, who would deftly remark after his little blood-fest, 'Well that was rather unappetizing. Honey-bumpkins, would you please get me something a bit tastier than that one next time?'
I couldn't help but snicker at my audacious day dreamings, causing a panic-stricken Tristan to stare at me as though he questioned my sanity.
If he only knew the extent of my haphazard knowledge, perhaps then...he would laugh with me.