EDITED, RE POSTED JAN 22
Title: Twisted Twilight
Author: Midnight
BETA: Moonlite
Synopses: A different version of Twilight. What if Renee never married Phil, but John Reed, a local cop. John is actually an alcoholic, and is abusive to Bella and Renee. It's after a brutal attack, that Bella decides to go to Forks to live with her Father. As Bella's life experiences have changed, so has our beloved story. See how!
Rating: T
Chapter: Eleven
Chapter Title: Comparisons.
Warning: Includes mention of violence, and rape.
Author's Note: I apologize for the shortness again; with Christmas two days away, it's very hard to stay on top of them. I'm sorry everyone, but I hope you enjoy. BUT the next chapter in Port A. which I've soooo been looking forward to write; perhaps I'll make it everyone x-mas present! Imagine an abused Bella reacting to that situation.... very interesting....
Special Thanks: RoryAceHayden147,psalmofsummer, A is for Angel, mikan kisses, Gothic Saku-chan, Romance4ever, Crystallized Hope, snapeisalive, lilangels0108, Drama Kagome, Stargirlrox-hearts-Avatar, HerLadyship, iluvSparklyVampires, divine divinityx10
So my day was quite, productive- I finished my paper by eight. Charlie came home with a large catch, and I made a mental note to pick up a book of recipes for fish when I was in Seattle next week. A chill of excitement ran down my back as I thought about spending the day alone with Edward. Hopefully I wouldn't fall or something and end up making a fool for myself. I certainly had bad luck around him. Yet, he was always there- always my knight. I couldn't decided if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.
I slept fairly well that night. When I woke up, my whole room was washed in sunlight. It was the second time since I'd arrived in Forks that I'd woken to the bright yellow of a sunny day. I skipped over to the window, stunned to see there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and those there were just fleecy little white puffs that couldn't possibly be carrying any rain. I opened the window- surprised when it opened silently, without sticking, not having opened it in who knows how many years- and sucked in the relatively dry air. It was nearly warm and hardly windy at all. My blood was electric in my veins.
The day had a promising ring to it; which pleased me. For once, things were starting to go my way. I pulled a pair of black jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt from my closet, and soaks and undies from my dresser. Since John moved in with us, I'd gotten in the habit of looking at the wall, or the ceiling when I was dressing, not wanting to see the fading bruises, old scars, and healing lacerations, or current bruises, cuts, and burns, but today seemed different. A new beginning or something.
I took a deep breath, and very slowly looked down. My skin was clear; no green, purple, or even yellow blobs, no burn marks, no cuts, only some small little white marks here and there that looked like stretch marks, and where almost impossible to see, unless the sun was shining on them. A huge smile formed on my face- it was the first time in a long time my skin looked normal. Well, as normal a ghost white skin can look. I felt victorious- the final sign that I had won.
I pulled on my clothing in a hurry, not wanting to waste the beautiful day. As I turned to face the door, I was suddenly drawn towards my beside table; the medication, and note still sitting there. There was something going on here, something that I couldn't explain- and I wasn't referring to the fact that so me how Edward had managed to sneak into my room to plant this, even though he was supposed to be miles from town, with no way to know if I was sick. I was referring to the awe I felt when I thought about the fact he did that for me- I was talking about the strong longing I had to see him, wishing I could say thank you, but all I had was his name, thus no cell, or even an address to send a thank you note. A tingle ran down my spine at the thought that maybe he felt the same way. I bounded out the door. Charlie was finishing breakfast when I came downstairs, and he picked up on my mood immediately.
"Nice day out," he commented.
"Yes," I agreed with a grin.
He smiled back, his brown eyes crinkling around the edges. When Charlie smiled, it was easier to see why he and my mother had jumped too quickly into an early marriage. Most of the young romantic he'd been in those days had faded before I'd known him, as the curly brown hair- the same color, if not the same texture, as mine- had dwindled, slowly revealing more and more of the shiny skin of his forehead. But when he smiled I could see a little of the man who had run away with Renee when she was just two years older then I am now.
I ate breakfast cheerily, watching the dust moats stirring in the sunlight that streamed in the back window. Charlie called out a goodbye, and I heard the cruiser pull away from the house. As soon as I couldn't hear the cruiser, I searched for something with Charlie's handwriting- just to make sure. After a quick skim of the dinning room, I found a note with directions to a new fishing hole. The note was defiantly not Charlie's, but just to make sure, I held the two notes up next to each other. Not even a close match. Smiling to myself in victory, I grabbed my bag.
I hesitated on my way out the door, hand on my rain jacket. It would be tempting fate to leave it home. With a sigh, I folded it over my arm and stepped out into the brightest light I'd seen in months.
By dint of much elbow grease, I was able to get both windows in the truck almost completely rolled down. I was on of the first ones to school; I hadn't even checked the clock in my hurry to get outside. I parked and headed towards the seldom-used picnic benches on the south side of the cafeteria. The benched were still a little damp, so I sat on my jacket, glad to have a use for it. My homework was done- the product of a slow social life, and a cold- but there was a few Trig problems I wasn't sure I had right. I took out my book industriously, but halfway through rechecking the first problem I was daydreaming, watching the sunlight play on the red-barked trees. I sketched inattentively along the margins of my homework.
"Bella!" I heard someone call, and it sounded like Mike. I found myself attempting not to moan; he really, really was acting like a lost puppy. I looked around to realize that the school had become populated while I'd been sitting there, absentminded. Everyone was in t-shirts, some even in shorts, though the temperature couldn't be over sixty. Mike was coming toward me in khaki shorts, and a striped Rugby shirt, waving.
"Hey, Mike," I called back, waving. My voice sounded surprisingly perky to me; apparently the weather was getting the best of me.
He came to sit by me, the tidy spikes of his hair shining golden in the light, his grin stretching across his face. He was so delighted to see me, I couldn't help but feel gratified.
"I never noticed before- your hair has red in it," he commented, catching between his fingers a strange that was fluttering lightly in the breeze.
"Only in the sun." My chest tighten as he tucked the lock behind my ear; the normal response I had when males got too close. I pulled back from his hand, but kept the smile on my face.
Strange that I'd never had that problem with Edward.
"Great day, isn't it?"
"My kind of day," I agreed.
"What did you do yesterday?" His tone was a bit too proprietary. "I hope you were feeling better."
"Yeah, I guess I just needed a whack of sleep. I actually spent the day working on my essay." I didn't add that I was finished with it- no need to sound smug.
He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh yeah- that's due Thursday, right?"
"Um, Wednesday, I think." I didn't think, I knew- I had written it down twenty times already. How do people forget about papers? Particularly important ones worth twenty percent of our grade?
"Wednesday?" He frowned. "That's not good.. What are you writing yours on?"
"Whether Shakespeare's treatment of the female characters is misogynistic." He stared at me like I'd just spoken pig Latin. "Hated, distrustful, or general dislike. So characterized by a hatred of women."
"Oh." He smiled sheepishly. "I guess I'll have to work on that tonight," he said, deflated. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go out."
"Uh," I was taken off guard. Why couldn't I ever have a pleasant conversation with Mike anymore without it getting awkward?
"Well, we could go to dinner or something... and I could work on it later." He smiled at me hopefully.
"Mike..." I hated being put on the spot. Then a brilliant plan formed. One word: Jessica. "I don't think that's the best idea."
His face fell. "Why?" he asked, his eyes guarded. My thought flickered to Edward, wondering if that's where his thoughts were as well. Then I lunged back to my plan, which wasn't completely a lie, just simply a small part of the truth.
"I think... and if you ever repeat what I'm saying right now I will cheerfully beat you to death," I threatened, "but I think that would hurt Jessica's feelings."
He was bewildered, obviously not thinking in that direction. "Jessica?"
Success.
"Really, Mike, are you blind?"
"Oh," he exhaled- clearly dazed. I took advantage of that to make my escape.
"It's time for class, and I can't be late again." I gathered my books up and stuffed them in my bag.
We walked in silence to building three, and his expression was distracted. I hoped whatever thoughts he was immersed in were leading him in the right direction.
When I saw Jessica in Trig, she was bubbling with enthusiasm. She, Angela and Lauren were going to Port Angeles tonight to go dress shopping for the dance, and she wanted me to come, too, even though I didn't need one.
The book store was in Port Angeles, I realized, and agreed. It was going to be a bit of a pain; Lauren was going to be there, but I wasn't going to let her ruin my good mood. Besides, there weren't too many things I had to do, now that I was done my paper.
She talked of nothing but the dance on the way to Spanish, continuing as if without an interruption when class finally ended. We gathered our bags, she kept blabbing, and we were on our way to lunch. I was far too lost in my own frenzy of anticipation to notice much of what she said. I was painfully eager to see not just him but all of Cullen's- to compare them, and see if I could get any more information before I started researching. As I crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, I felt the firs true tingle of realization: it was sunny out. They wouldn't be here, they'd be off camping somewhere.
I cursed silently to myself.
We were late enough that everyone was already at our table. I avoided the empty seat next to Mike in favor of one by Angela. I peaked up, and my suspicion was confirmed; none of them were present. I vaguely noticed that Mike held the chair out for Jessica, and her face lit up in response.
Angela asked a few quite questions about the Macbeth paper, which I answered as naturally as I could while spiraling downward into misery. She, too, invited me to go with them tonight, and I told her I'd already decided to come. My obsession with Edward was becoming strange, and debilitating. I was far to dependant on him; like there was some strange connection between the two of us that I couldn't sever. But that alone didn't bother me as much as it should, it simply seemed like an explanation to my misery. Like getting the answer to a math problem.
In Science, Mr. Banner handed out our last lab back- Edward and I received a 97%, only losing marks because I spelled minuscule wrong. Which I was pretty sure I didn't, so made a mental note to look it up when I got home.
Thankful that I didn't have a lab partner looking over my shoulder, and that everyone was busy looking at their own lab papers to notice me. I pulled out the note to compare with the answer on the lab; the over all style was the same, but just to make sure, I checked individual letters. They varied slightly, but minimally- the difference seemed to be that my note was rushed. I smiled victorious, and put the note back in my pocket.
A moment later, Mike wandered over. "So how did you and Cullen do?"
"I don't really know if I should say without asking- I mean, it's Edward's mark, too." And I didn't want to sound cocky since I could see that 62% clear through the paper. "But we did play over all. How about you?"
"We did alright," he shrugged. Ouch- I'd hate to see what they got last time if that's alright. "We got a 62%."
"That's pretty good- probably above average."
"Everyone to your seats, please." Mr. Banner called. "We're going to look over the lab as a group." I hate when teachers do this; mostly because they only do it when over half the class failed, which made it very boring for me.
The rest of the day passed slowly, dismally. In Gym, we had a lecture on the rules of badminton, the next torture they had lined up for me. But at least it meant I got to sit and listen instead of stumbling around the court. The best part was the coach didn't finish, so I got another day off tomorrow. Never mind that the day after they would arm me with a racket before unleashing me on the rest of the class.
I was glad to leave campus, so I would be free to pout and mope before I went out tonight with Jessica and company. But right after I walked in the door of the house, Jessica called to cancel our plans. I tried to be happy that Mike had asked her out to dinner- I really was relieved that he finally seemed to be catching on- but my enthusiasm sounded false in my own ears. She rescheduled our shopping trip for tomorrow night.
Which left me with little in the way of distractions. I had fish marinating for dinner, with a salad and bread left over from the night before, so there was nothing to do there. I spent a focused half hour of homework, but then I was through with that, too. I checked my e-mail, reading the backlog of junk mail, and was extremely surprised to see an e-mail from my mother.
Her and technology didn't get along.
Bella,
I hope school is going well. I miss you terribly; so does John. I wish you'd call, or something- just to let me know you're okay. Keep me in mind, and try to keep in touch.
I'm sorry.
~Mom
I felt choked up, and, surprised. After our last argument, I didn't think she'd ever end up apologizing, I thought that I'd ended the discussion. I clicked the reply button and stared at the empty space meant for me to type. My eyes trailed back down to what she had said, and then, suspiciously to the encrypted data around it; something told me this wasn't what I thought it was. I kept scanning, and found what I was looking for: the date. This e-mail was dated one week after I got here, and way before our argument.
She wasn't sorry, not even a little bit. In fact, she was probably still in denial or shock. Annoyed, I stomped from my room and grabbed an old quilt from the linen closet at the top of the stairs. I needed to be outside, in the sun, to relax.
Outside in the small, square yard, I folded the quilt in half and laid it out of reach of the trees shadows on the thick lawn that would always be slightly wet, no matter how long the sun shone. I laid on my back, and stared up into the sky. Small clouds floated by peacefully, the sun on my pale skin. I rolled the sleeves of my shirt up, and closed my eyes to enjoy the basking glow. The breeze was still light, but it blew tendrils of my hair around my face, and that tickled a bit. I wished I had a book to read- but when I packed in a hurry, they weren't really on the list of things to come with me. I pulled my hair out, and over my head, letting it fan out on the quilt above me, and focused again on the heat that touched my eyelids, my cheekbones, my nose, my lips, my forearms, my neck, soaked through my light shirt...
The next thing I was conscious of was the sound of Charlie's cruiser turning on the bricks of the driveway. I sat up in surprise, realizing the light was gone, behind the trees, and I had fallen asleep. I looked around, muddled, with the sudden feeling that I wasn't alone.
"Charlie?" I asked. But I could hear his door slamming in the front of the house. Someone else. I shook my head; I was just being silly.
Pulling myself up, I looked around again, but the feeling hadn't left. I jumped up, foolishly edgy, fathering the now-damp quilt and my book. I ran inside to get some oil heating on the stove, realizing that dinner would be late. Charlie was hanging up his gun belt and stepping out of his boots when I came in.
"Sorry, Dad, dinner's not ready yet- I feel asleep outside." I stifled a yawn.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I wanted to catch the score on the game, anyway."
I watched TV with Charlie after dinner, for something to do. There wasn't anything on to watch, but he knew I didn't like baseball, so he turned it to some mindless sitcom that neither of us enjoyed. He seemed happy, though, to be doing something together. And it felt good, despite my depression, to make him happy.
"Dad," I said, during a commercial, "Jessica and Angela are going to look at dresses for the dance tomorrow night in Port Angeles, and the wanted me to help them choose... do you mind if I go with them?"
"Jessica Stanley?" he asked.
"And Angela Weber." I sighed as I have him the details.
He was confused. "But you're not going to the dance, right?"
"No, but I'm helping them find dresses- you know, giving them constructive criticism." I wouldn't have to explain this to a woman.
"Well, okay." He seemed to realize that this was out of his depth with girlie stuff. "It's a school night, though."
"We'll leave right after school, grab some dinner, then get back early. You'll be okay for dinner right? I could make something and put it in the fridge?"
"Bells, I fed myself for seventeen years before you got here," he reminded me.
"I don't know how you survived," I muttered, then added more clearly, "I'll leave some thing for cold-cut sandwiches in the fridge- right on top." Last thing I wanted was to come home, and Charlie have food poisoning.
I woke up, hoping for a cloudy day- something I thought would never happen- but it was sunny again, with little wind. I sighed in frustration, and stomped over to my closet. Grimly I dressed for the warmer weather; a deep blue v-neck sweater (something I'd worn in the dead of winter in Phoenix) and blue jeans.
I had planned my arrival to school so that I barely had time to make it to class. With a sinking heart, I circled around the lot and confirmed that he wasn't here, as the shiny Volvo was no where to be seen. I parked in the last row and hurried off to English, arriving breathless, but subdued, before the final bell.
It was the same as yesterday- I just couldn't keep my mind in the game; all I cared about was that Edward wasn't here, and knowing that no matter how much I hoped he'd show up at lunch, or in Bio, he wouldn't, and he didn't.
The Port Angeles scheme was back on again for tonight and made all the more attractive by the fact that Lauren had other obligations. I was anxious to get our of town so I could stop glancing over my shoulder, stop speculating, and hopefully get some answers from that book store. I vowed to myself that I would be in a good mood tonight and not ruin Angela's or Jessica's enjoyment in the dress hunting. Maybe I could do a little clothes shopping as well. I refused to think that I might be shopping alone in Seattle this weekend, in fear that Edward might no longer be interested in our agreement. However, he did tell me he'd warn me if he'd start avoiding me again, so surely he wouldn't cancel without at least telling me. The fact his whole family was gone was comforting.
After school, Jessica followed me home in her old white Mercury so that I could ditch my books and truck. I brushed through my hair quickly when I was inside, feeling a slight lift of excitement as I contemplated getting out of Forks. I felt a note for Charlie on the table, explaining again where to find dinner, switched my wallet for my bag, to my rarely used purse, and rain outside to join Jessica. We went to Angela's house next, and she was waiting for us out front. My excitement increased exponentially as we actually drove out of the town limits.