Place of the Lost
A/N: Ah… finally! I've been wanting to write this chapter for a very very very long time! Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Twilight and all of its Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer
Chapter 22: The Lines in the Dirt
BPOV:
The gentle rock of the night train was slowly lulling me to sleep. We had only left Chicago a few hours prior, but I was already feeling better. I was glad to finally be out of the house. The four walls were starting to close in on me. My relationship with Jake was becoming increasingly strained. He promised he'd wait until I was over Edward, but I don't think he anticipated it taking so long. Honestly, I was starting to get sick of him. He was always there, always touching me, always kissing my cheek. I just wanted space. I needed some time to think and some room to breathe. I told him that I just wanted him to be my friend , but apparently that was good enough. He snuck into my bedroom the previous two nights to "kiss me goodnight," but I expect he was trying to rekindle the fiery passion we felt the night of the storm. I didn't have the heart to tell him that that wasn't going to happen. All the lust I once felt for him was gone, burned out, like a blazing inferno out of fuel.
There were four bunks in our private cabin on the train. My father and Jake slept on one side and I on the other. I used the spare bunk below to store all of our luggage. A faint stream of moonlight flooded in through the window. The sound of Charlie's quiet rhythmic snoring filled the air. The dark curtains on their bunks were pulled closed, and I felt alone for the first time in days. I relished the moment. Finally, some time to think. My thoughts automatically went to Edward. I ran my fingertips over the last letter I had received from him. It was too dark to read it on the train. I'd have to wait until morning, to do my nightly ritual. I didn't need it really. I had memorized the words, the letters, every stroke of his pen. I wanted so desperately to understand what he wanted me to know. "Tell me Edward." I whispered quietly to myself. "Tell me what I'm supposed to..." My voice trailed off into silence, as my mind sank into the dark water of sleep.
There was nothing but thick black darkness. So dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. Fear washed over me, and I began to tremble. I didn't know where I was, or if I was alone. I didn't know if I should run, or stay. My heart thundered in my chest. Then I saw a tiny faint glowing light, and heard the sound of rushing water. Out of the darkness a familiar voice called to me, beckoning me to come toward it. I stumbled, nearly tripping, trying to move towards the light, move towards the angelic voice. The tone was soothing and magnetic. I thought I recognized the person speaking. It was Edward, but it wasn't. "Isabella Marie Swan!" The voice shouted my name, but it wasn't angry. The tone was full of anxious longing, and I wanted the voice too. Suddenly, I wasn't walking anymore; I was flying. My feet no longer touched the ground. The shouting got louder and louder. "Isabella Marie Swan! Isabella Marie Swan!" The glow of grew larger. My breathing quickened as I raced towards the light and the voice, leaving the blackness behind.
I crashed to the ground, landing on my hands and knees, the musky scent of earth filling my nostrils. My fingers dug into the damp grass and dirt. I could hear the water. I lifted my head. I was on the bank of a rushing river, shrouded by a blanket of night. The only light came from an oil lamp that rested on a large rock. A man knelt in front of the rock, his head down so I couldn't see his face. He almost looked as if he was praying. The lamp light cast a strange glow on his bare arms, making his skin appear incredibly pale. Despite his pallor, there was a certain radiance about him. He was almost luminous, like the moon against a black sky.
He called to me, "Isabella Marie Swan!" His lips never moved. I wanted to speak to him, be closer to him, but my lips wouldn't move. The words wouldn't form on my tongue. My legs wouldn't move, the dirt wouldn't release my buried fingers. Still he called to me without speaking the words. "Isabella Marie Swan!" I wanted so badly to scream, to tell him I was here, but I think he knew.
Suddenly, the words he spoke began to appear on the glowing earth in front of me, in thick black lines through the grass and mud. "The First Letter Bella." He shouted the words. "The First Letter Bella." Over and over again he chanted the phrase, until the thick marks disappeared from the ground before me. They were replaced by new words that he screamed even louder. "The Last Line." He repeated it again and again, until the words dug deep in the dirt. "The Last Line." He cried. Once again the words vanished. New words appeared as he spoke them. "Follow Him To Me." Finally I was certain of who was speaking to me. It was Edward calling. His voice was different, but it was him. He wanted me to come to him.
He barely had time to repeat the last phrase when the light began to fade. The sound of his voice grew weaker. I could no longer hear the river. The dirt released my fingers, and the blackness crept back over me, slowly at first, then I was flying again, backwards this time. Edward was quickly slipping away from me. I wanted to sob, but I still couldn't make a sound. I felt so cheated. I had been so close, and didn't even get to see his face, didn't get to say I love you. I was all alone again, in the silent darkness.
Faint rays of early morning sun roused me from my troubled sleep. I groaned and stretched, balling my hands into fists trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. I didn't feel rested, but I couldn't recall why. For a long time, I stared out the window at the passing green landscape. Charlie's low snores, and Jacob's slow heavy breathing were the only sounds in the cabin.
Then it hit me. My dream! Edward! I sighed audibly as I jerked the warm blankets away from my body. It was probably nothing, but it was so incredibly vivid. I could hear his voice, the river, feel the dirt in my hands. The images seemed faded this morning, like I couldn't recall everything. What did he even say? What was written in the dirt? After a few moments of concentration, it finally came to me. "The first letter." He had said. But what could that mean? The first letter he ever sent me, no. There's no way I could remember that. He probably sent it when we were twelve. It had to mean something else, if it meant anything at all.
What else had he said? I tried to focus, and visualize the mud and the grass on the riverbank. "The last line." I was certain that's what was written, and that's what he said. Edward's strange and beautiful voice echoed through my memory. It was new and familiar at the same time. But what was he talking about? The last line of a book, or a play? Why did dreams always have to be so cryptic? I repeated the words over and over to myself. The first letter, the last line, the first letter, the last line, the first letter, the last line, the first lett…
A loud gasp escaped my lips. How could I be so stupid? Before I went to sleep I asked Edward to help me understand the letter. He answered my request, or at least I dreamt that he did. I turned over frantically, searching for the letter in my sheets. Why didn't I put it away before I fell asleep? I threw my blanket to the floor and ripped off the top white sheet. Finally, I felt paper on my finger tips. I pulled the crumpled letter to my eyes, gently unfolding it.
I held the paper in the sunlight and searched for the last line. I Always Maintained Absolute Love Is Vehemently Everlasting. That sentence never really made sense to me. I understood what it meant, but it was awkward. Edward was always so eloquent; it didn't seem like something he would write, but after many nights of reading I attributed that to the influenza.
After reading the line several times, I regained focus. First letter, the dream had said. I scanned the sentence, I, A, M, A, L, I, V, E. My hands began to tremble. The paper shook violently. I almost ripped it in two. My breath hitched. "It's true." I couldn't help but say the words out loud. All this time I had tortured myself, and the answer had been right in front of me.
A deep feeling of relief washed over me, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of happiness. Tears of joy cascaded down my cheeks. It was all I could do not to scream. "He's alive!" I whispered through the sobs of relief. "He's alive!" I didn't know why he couldn't just tell me the truth, but I didn't care. Edward wasn't gone, and that was all that mattered. I couldn't lay down anymore. I was too excited, too overwhelmed with emotion to be still.
I leapt from my bunk. My feet hit the floor with a thud. I wiped the tears from my cheeks, and the widest grinned broke out across my face. I felt like dancing, like shouting, like singing, but everyone was still asleep. I had to get out of the cabin. I ran to the door and flung it open. I couldn't help it, I just took off skipping down the halls of the train. Everything looked better than it had last night. The red carpet seemed brighter, the wooden interior looked shinier, even the air felt lighter this morning. Still in my night blue gown, I was too happy to be embarrassed. I hummed and skipped like a school girl, my brown messy hair bouncing behind me.
As I passed from our car to the next, I saw a short old man with a gray beard in a dark blue uniform. He was leaning against the wall, as if keeping watch. He cleared his throat loudly as I passed him. "Miss." He said in a stern voice. "Are you all right?" He glared at me as if he really meant to say, "What the hell do you think you're doing,?" but that wouldn't be very polite.
"Yes sir." I smiled, my voice full of exuberance. "I've never been better."
He wasn't amused. "Don't you think you should go back to your cabin now?"
"You're probably right." I giggled and turned away.
As I walked, I heard him mutter under his breath, "Damn kids, drinking this early in the morning." He grumbled. "What's wrong with this generation?" I burst into hysteric laughter.
I heard Charlie groaning, as I walked back into the cabin. I barely had enough time to jump back into my bunk before his curtain opened. "Bella? Is that you?" The words were nothing more than a mumble.
"Yeah dad, I'm awake." It was difficult hiding my excitement, but now wasn't the best time to reveal my discovery to my father. He already thought I was insane and depressed. This wouldn't help matters any.
"What are you doing up so early?" He asked through a groan, as he stretched his arms above his head.
"I'm just excited that's all." That was a tremendous understatement. I wasn't just excited; I was buzzing. I could barely calm my voice enough to speak to Charlie.
He smiled sleepily, "I'm glad darling." He sighed. "I knew this trip would be good for you." Of course I couldn't tell him that it wasn't the trip. In fact, I was beginning to loathe the trip. Knowing that Edward was still alive made weeks with Jacob look like the fifth level of hell. In my excitement, I had completely forgotten about him. He would have to be content with friendship…forever. "Why don't you change, and we'll go to the dining car for some breakfast?"
"Sounds good dad." I replied.
He pushed the covers off of him and turned to slide off the top bunk. His gaze fell on the cabin floor. "Bella, why are all your blankets on the floor?"
I stumbled over an answer, "Uh… I'm n-not sure. Maybe I got hot during the night and kicked them off?"
"Well pick them up. Someone could fall." I grinned and nodded. I jumped from the bunk and picked the blanket and sheet up off the floor. Rolling them into a messy ball, I tossed them back onto my bed.
As I was digging through my luggage for something to put on, I heard rustling from the other side of Jacob's curtain. Tan fingers peeked out the slit in the material and pulled them to the side. A tired but sultry, "Good morning," fell from his crimson lips.
"Morning." I replied. I tried to turn around, but I could hardly bear looking at him. I felt terrible for the things we had done. Even if I didn't let things go as far as they could have, I felt like I had betrayed Edward. I had let Jacob kiss me, touch me and even undress me when I wasn't even sure that Edward was gone. A sick feeling rose in the pit of my stomach, threatening to overpower my joy. But I couldn't let it. Edward was alive and I loved him, that was the most important thing. I would have to be honest with him about what happened with Jacob, but I could worry about that later. This was a glorious and miraculous morning, that no one, not even Jacob, was going to spoil.
"Ready for some breakfast?" Charlie asked as he leaned down to the bottom bunk to speak to Jacob.
"I'm starving." He grumbled.
"Well get dressed then." Charlie replied. "We'll go to the dining car."
I found a green dress to wear and slipped away to the bathroom just outside the cabin. I pulled off the nightgown and stepped into the dress. It was a little fancy for breakfast on a train, but it was one of Edward's favorites. The day was about him.
Charlie and Jacob were already dressed when I came back. "You look nice." My father commented.
Jacob walked slowly towards me and whispered in my ear, "No, you look beautiful." His hot breath on my neck made my skin crawl. The charm that had been so alluring just a few days ago, now seemed so repulsive and sleazy. I stepped away from him, reaching for the door. I led the way to the dining car.
We passed the same old man who had spoken to me earlier that morning. He seemed to be pleased that I was no longer walking around the train in my nightgown. He nodded his head as if to say hello. "Glad to see you made it back all right." He said. I smiled and kept walking. Charlie shot me a wary glance, but I didn't offer any explanation.
We sat down to breakfast, and Charlie forgot all about my short conversation with the guard. The dining car was tastefully decorated with floral wallpaper and pressed white tablecloths. Our waitress was a thin woman with long dark hair. She wore a white uniform and smiled genuinely at her customers. She was the only person I saw that was remotely as joyful as I was. I ordered a stack blueberry pancakes and bacon, but I could hardly eat. I was too ecstatic. All I wanted to do was squeal, and be able to share my joy with the people around me. But I knew that wasn't an option, so I methodically picked at my food.
My mind was far away from the train and blueberry pancakes. It was stuck in the mud on an unknown riverbank far from any place I knew in my waking hours. I relived the dream over and over again in my mind: blackness, the faint light, the riverbank, Edward, the first letter, the last line… Then it hit me. Edward said something else. There was one more phrase written in the mud, but I couldn't remember exactly what it said.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to focus and evoke an image of that part of the dream.
"Bella." Charlie interrupted my thoughts. "Are you all right? You're barely picking at your food."
"Fine dad." I spat the words out quickly. "Still a little groggy I guess." He nodded, and I closed my eyes again. Think Bella, I prodded myself. Then I could see the dark lines rise up from the dirt to create the words follow him to me. I knew who me referred to, that was Edward. But who was I meant to follow? I looked up and saw Jacob sitting across of me, a devilish grin on his face. My forked slipped from my grip and hit my plate with a clang.
What other him could there be? It had to be Jacob, and if that was true, it meant he was hiding something from me. I didn't understand the connection, but Jacob was keeping secrets, and I had to find them out.
A/N: Yah! She knows he's alive. Finally, I got to write something happy. Thanks for reading! Please review!