Author's Chapter Notes:
Yeah, it's another sad chapter. But the beginning is kind of happy. Just a bit. But you have got to trust me with what I do in this chapter. It'll all play out eventually.
Ch. 9 of the Adventures of Bella and Human Boy
Edward's POV
I bit into the white flesh of the apple, bubbly juices dribbling out onto my chin and then traveling down my neck. The taste is one like candy, but a less potent sugar sense. The scent is the same, but very tempting all the same. Funny how fruit can resemble people so closely. My Bella- err, just Bella- is the same. The outside varying in many plain shades, but the hidden fruit is so alluring, so beautiful. Now a forbidden fruit to me. Why was I so moronic, so stupid as to throw away the one thing that completed me? Only now do I realize how rotten I am without her inside the circle of my arms. But now that she is free, Bella is probably happy with another man, one who is worthy to posses the fruit of such a delicious apple.
I open the windows when I reach my large room. Cool air floods the stuffy space, relieving me of a small amount of stress. The sky looks like Bella today also. It's clear and sunny, one of the rarest things ever seen in Forks. Like her soul, it is vast and holds so many beautiful things. The tiny sparrows hopping about the brittle branches of trees, the practically non-existent buds of yellow flowers that attempt to grow tall in the few hours of sunlight, and the sound of people walking in the warmth. Why am I even thinking this? If I was right that day months ago, I don't love Bella. I must be a complete liar, because it could only be love that's making drool drip out of my mouth at the thought of her gorgeous face.
But one thing I am absolutely sure of, is that I'm not the only idiot in this house. I can remember the day as clear as Mr. Varner's infatuation for Ms. Gall. I shuddered at that thought.
"Edward, can I speak to you in the study?" my father asked in a stern tone.
"Sure." I answered quickly. I knew that tone of voice; when my father got serious, it meant you better do whatever he told you to do, or there would be dire consequences.
"What's up, Dad?" I asked lightly.
"That girl that you've been hanging out with . . . What's her name? Bathilda? Bertha?" he asked, confused.
"Bella." I replied with warmth in my voice. Just her name made my heart threaten to break through the confines of my chest.
"Yes. I don't like her. You should stop seeing her." he said suddenly.
"What?!" I gasped.
"She doesn't deserve you. And you don't need to be caught up in some fickle romance while you're at law school. Good lawyers don't have scrawny little girls clinging to their arms. So in order to become a good lawyer, you need to get rid of her. And soon." he ordered.
"But . . . I love her!" I protested.
"Love?" he scoffed. "She doesn't even deserve to be in your presence!"
"I think you've got it backwards, Dad." I shot back.
"I don't care. Leave her- tomorrow." he commanded, and then left.
I now hate my father.
My father's life goal seemed to be that I become a successful lawyer. I hate lawyers. They argue with those that don't share the same opinion as them, spit in the faces of those lower than them, and kiss the feet of those above them. My father is one of them.
If I had it my way, I would become neurosurgeon. Helping those who need it, not laughing in their faces. But of course, being a surgeon was a foolish game to my father. Making sore people stay alive? Granting them a couple more years of life? Does that really sound so cruel?
The worst part of him isn't that he's lawyer, it's that he's also an alcoholic. When he thinks I'm asleep, he walks in the front door. Every step is loud and swaggers, and he yells out crude insults at my mother. Though she knows he doesn't mean it, I know part of her has been worn away by all of the trash he's given her. After he passes out on the couch, Mom comes into my room and kisses my cheek lightly. There are always tears on her face.
Did I do that to Bella? I never shouted insults at her, and I never slapped her for no reason, but was I wearing the best of her away? I'd like to say that I didn't grate away the beauty of her, but something tells me I did. I was most definitely the one who got her to this catatonic state. But even in a simplified state of being, I can't help but love her.
But after all I've put her through, Bella would never believe me if I told her of what had actually gone on. I can imagine her staring at me angrily, her lower lip jutting into a perfect pout, tears streaming out of her enraged eyes. How could I hurt her like that again?
I hate my father for making me lose Bella. For everything else, too. But one way or another, she'll be back in my arms.
That last thought came to me as I heard the scream of metal against metal, and then the horrified gasp of my mother.
~!~!~!~!~!~
"Mom? Mom!" I called out in an uncertain, quavering tone. I smelt the ghostly curls of smoke before I saw them. A sickly scent clogged the air and made breathing unwanted: the smell of spilled gasoline. I stepped out of the front door only to have my mother come back through it screaming. Her tiny hands grabbed onto my shirt.
"Edward! Edward!" she shrieked as if I wasn't right in front of her. She was obviously somewhere else. Somewhere where the sky was blanketed in black, and the trees had withered to look like bony fingers.
"Mom, what's going on?" I asked loudly enough to get over her screaming.
"Edward, it's . . . it's your . . . your . . ." she sobbed into my shirt.
A paramedic walked up beside my mother and started rubbing circles on her back to soothe her. His voice low and calm, as if he saw loads of hysterical women every day. Where was dad? He should be the one comforting my mom. And then I saw the two other paramedics. They were holding a mangled form away from what looked like a play toy that was cruelly used. It took me a minute to realize that it was two cars that had wrapped themselves around each other. Glass layered the ground like rain, along with the crimson trail of blood left behind by the paramedics' strange object. Then I realized what had happened.
They were carrying my father. And he was bloody. And not breathing.
Chapter End Notes: without spaces and fill in (dot) with a period
Bella's First Painting (the one with the girl in the mask)
H t t p : / / I m g 5 0 8 ( d o t ) I m a g e s h a c k ( d o t ) u s / I m g 5 0 8 / 4 8 1 8 / t h e t o r n m a s k p h 3 ( d o t ) j p g
Bella's picture of the person bound by ropes:
H t t p : / / I m g 5 0 8 ( d o t ) I m a g e s h a c k ( d o t ) u s / I m g 5 0 8 / 1 3 1 5 / a c o m p l I c a t e d w e b t a 5 ( d o t ) j p g
Bella's picture of the person sitting in the candles:
H t t p : / / I m g 5 0 3 ( d o t ) I m a g e s h a c k ( d o t ) u s / I m g 5 0 3 / 2 5 7 3 / s I t t I n g I n t h e c I r c l e o f c a n c q 6 ( d o t ) j p g
Thanks to the masters at deviant art for that!