Beta's Note: I've heard from the author the updates for this story will be regular for a while. I'll let you know when it ends, but for now, expect updates every Monday.
Chapter 3
Bella didn't like Forks. Not at first. Given that her first impression of the town was seeing it fly by from a water speckled window; what she could see of the town would best be described by a single word: Dull. Very dull. There was a small convenience store that also doubled as the town's pit stop and mechanic, "I work there," Charlie said as they drove by a small diner and… what was that? It looked like a church… if a church had forgotten that it was meant to be a church. The building was painted –I use the word loosely- with a nasty off-white colour, almost like the walls had only been primed, and another colour was meant to be added to the cacophony, but whoever was going to paint it had just forgotten. The steeple was tall, but clearly should have been condemned. Given the lack of a bell, Bella assumed that the tower rang with silence every Sunday.
"Do they have services?" She asked her father as they drove by. Bella had never been particularly religious. Her mother was a Catholic, but all of her friends back home were Mormon. She had decided that it would probably be best not to sign on with either ship to avoid conflict.
"Um… I don't think so… most of the people 'round here don't have much time for praying."
"Oh." Bella looked down. The rain continued to sprinkle an ice cold course through to the pavement below the truck's ever turning wheels. This wasn't a home, she thought. This was a truck stop, a little nowhere town that real people only went to when they needed gas, food, or some other variation on Maslow's hierarchy of needs. She postulated that all of the people here were vacant, empty, and soulless. Anyone she would meet would look at her, but all she would see would be her own reflection.
Bella pondered more on this as she lay in her bed, looking at the clearly handmade ceiling. A quiet drop of water played a solemn beat that would accentuate the rest of the silence that filled the room. She rolled over on her cot and pulled the patchwork blanket closer to her bosom. Why did she agree to this? A foster parent would at least give her a proper… wait… suddenly Bella's thoughts fell silent. What was that sound? Scratching at first, but no, melodic.
The sounded wafted through the room as though calling to her, humming to her. Tune, rhythm, melody. Something almost ethereal. It was the sound of a singular violin playing that broke the night in two. Bella walked up to her window and after a little effort managed to get it open, but oh, dear reader, when she did.
Bella heard the sound of the violin as clearly as though it were right next to her, the raindrops and the other sounds of the night served only to articulate the melody. Whoever was playing was not merely a soloist, they were a conductor, leading an orchestra of the night in a perfect harmony.
Bella climbed out onto the awning and walked to its edge. "Where was that sound coming from?" She wondered aloud. It was impossible to determine, the music seemed to come from everywhere, but when Bella tried to zero in on it all that she could do was identify the parts, but never the source.
And so she stood there, all through the night just listening. The rain had saturated her night dress by this point, but she didn't even notice. She stood listening to the beautiful music until she could endure no more, and then she let the lullaby send her off to sleep. Her last thoughts, as she fell asleep where thus; "This could be home."