Disclaimer: depictions of grief. For anyone who could be triggered by scenes with funerals, I suggest reading with caution. Please take care of yourselves x
Bella
I stared at the long mirror I had in the corner of my new room, looking at a scrawny-looking ghost of myself. At the shell of a girl I didn't recognize.
I wore a black dress with long sleeves and one black Converse shoe along with the cast that decorated the majority of my other leg. Every time I saw the scratchy thick material encasing my leg in the morning, I felt so empty. I didn't even understand why. It was just a feeling that started in the pit of my stomach, washing over my chest and the rest of me. As if I were a pebble sinking beneath the surface of a vast ocean.
I kept replaying my doctor's words from our last visit. They kept repeating in my mind as both a reminder and a taunt.
It's a minor break, nothing for sure yet. The damage is not permanent. I hoped he was right every time I thought about his words. However, the faintest guilt-ridden need to know if I can skate again kept taunting me.
And each time, I shut it all back down.
I hated how selfish I was.
I was here, and she wasn't. I don't deserve to ever get back on the ice and do what I loved—what always helped me find a purpose—if she couldn't be here.
Selfish, selfish, selfish.
A knock at the door made me slowly turn to find Carlisle leaning against the doorframe with a small smile on his lips that didn't meet his eyes. He wore a white button-up shirt and black pants, his hair brushed back and away from his face.
"Charlotte's here, if you want to meet her."
I nodded, reaching for the crutches propped against the dresser to make my way over to him. Carlisle stepped aside to let me pass though when we maneuvered our way down, he kept a firm hand on mine while I slowly walked down. He always looked as if he were about to catch me. Always.
I didn't know why that made me feel so...safe.
By the time we made it downstairs, I heard a woman's voice coming from the living room.
"Smacked around again, huh? Are there still any thoughts left in that knucklehead brain of yours, little nephew?"
"More than the other guy I suspect," another person drawled dryly. A young man's voice—one that was not Emmett's. My heart stuttered the moment we came to a halt in the threshold. A beautiful woman wearing an elegant black silk blouse, slacks and high heels stood in the living room.
Still, even with the heels, she wasn't nearly as tall as the tall boy with long honey-blonde locks that rested at his jawline as he rolled his eyes affectionately at the woman who prodded his face with a manicured finger. As if she were inspecting every sharp feature she could see, turning his face from one side to another.
That's when I saw the small bruises blossoming on his high cheekbones. I would have cringed at the sight of them, had the woman not turned his head to the left, in our direction, and his sky-blue eyes met mine. Suddenly, I felt utterly frozen in his gaze as he eased the woman's hand away from his face and he turned to fully face me.
He was...beautiful. Bruised and beautiful, and utterly unreadable. As if he'd been sculpted out of porcelain. Imperfect in small ways, but breathtaking in so many more. There weren't boys in my life who I ever thought to be beautiful. But he was without a doubt beautiful in a terrifying sort of way.
He watched me with an assessing look, as if trying to put together an impossible puzzle. I wondered if that was the same way I looked at him right now. The boy stood perfectly still as the woman finally chimed, taking a step forward, "Hello, Bella. I'm Charlotte."
I blinked at the woman—Charlotte—and nodded a greeting.
"And this is Jasper," Carlisle said beside me and once again, I found myself seeking Jasper out behind Charlotte. "The second eldest."
"Hello," He said a curt yet not unkind greeting, his voice deeper than I expected it to sound. Calming yet intimidating at the same time.
Again I nodded, not sure what else to do and glad that I didn't have to when Emmett trudged down the stairs next, "Anyone seen my shoes? My only nice ones that I'm hoping Nana hasn't eaten?"
"Why haven't you learned by now? You have to start hiding them." With the shake of his head, Jasper walked towards us and I hurried to move out of the way so that he could go into the kitchen and probably help Emmett find his shoes.
I followed him with my eyes and my heart sank at the sight of him and Emmett—they were both wearing black shirts and slacks, the same as Carlisle—and clearly getting ready for...for the funeral.
Because today was the day we finally put my mother to rest.
Tears sprang in my eyes all of a sudden and I had to blink several times to keep them from running down my cheeks. Carlisle noticed of course, but he didn't say anything.
What could he say?
There were no words that could fill the gaping hole I felt splitting wide open in my chest. There was no fixing such a wound. Nothing they could ever take away.
There was nothing so permanent, so undoing, as grief.
Emmett spoke to me as if he'd known me for years, making conversation with me even though I barely wrote two words to him every time. He occasionally tugged at the black tie around his neck. I could tell he wasn't used to wearing formal clothing. But then again, who would be used to dressing up for a funeral?
Jasper was quiet, the complete opposite of his brother in all ways. He stood by the kitchen window, his arms crossed as he surveyed everyone in the room. Only ever wavering when his aunt teased him. For some reason, I found myself watching him every now and then. And every time, I always looked away before his blue eyes flickered towards me as if sensing my gaze on him.
The two youngest Cullen brothers were complete opposites I realized. Emmett's positive personality could light up a room, reminding me of a sunny spring day. Whereas Jasper was serious, always seeming to stick out in a crowd in a way that I couldn't explain. Like the full moon surrounded by starless night skies.
Carlisle was somehow a combination of the two. And out of all of them, he was the one I thought of going to for anything. I barely knew the man and yet I seemed to rely heavily on him already.
We had all gathered around the living room, waiting for Charlotte's husband, Peter, and apparently he was also Carlisle's partner at the station. I was surprised at how close in age they were. There was an air to all of them that I couldn't pinpoint. A heaviness that intermingled with love and familiarity.
I didn't find it in me to wonder why that was. Not now anyway.
If anyone knew how complicated family could be, it was me.
Everyone in the room was dressed in black. It made me anxious to see more people show up wearing that color. As well as how many people I would see at the funeral. Charlotte sat next to me while the guys talked amongst themselves but eventually, their voices became muffled in the background as I stared at my hands on my lap.
I felt a wave of nausea rise up, and I could feel my heartbeat pounding against my chest. Panic dragging me under in crushing irregular waves.
I'm not ready...
Too much. It hurt so much that I couldn't breathe.
When I noticed Carlisle looking at me, he had an expression I couldn't decipher. His eyes looked to be a shade darker now and his brows drew together in a frown.
I was too scared to admit it, but I didn't think I could get through today at all.
I could tell everyone was watching me, wary of the very thing I was trying to prevent. When I stood up on shaky legs to get into the car to go to the funeral, I wasn't surprised that Charlotte, Carlisle, and Peter stood up too. As if they would all try to catch me the moment I slipped.
A hurtful word slithered into my mind, one that sliced through my heart.
Burden.
Somehow, I managed to make it onto the front porch without any trouble even though my leg hurt bad enough to make me cry.
I shouldn't be crying. I had no right to cry. I was so selfish for feeling anything at all. I'm alive and mom isn't...
And yet, I was destroyed. Utterly heartbroken. In a way that I had to compare it to the hurt I felt with my father.
I didn't think anything would be able to take that sadness away anymore though. It feels as if it's become a part of me. As if someone carved it into my bones. I didn't know how to erase it.
All I wanted was for things to go back to the way they used to be.
The funeral went by in a blur. As if I were looking at it through someone else's eyes—not mine.
I could feel Charlotte's arm wrapped around my shoulders to help guide me across the lawn. But at the same time, I felt as if an invisible string was pulling me forward. Tugging at my arms and legs like one would to a puppet.
Charlotte was holding an umbrella to keep the drizzle of the rain from getting us wet. I felt a tightness in my chest gradually press in on my heart the closer we got to the tent where the casket was being carried.
Carlisle, Peter, Emmett and Jasper helped be the pallbearers. I kept my eyes down most of the time out of fear that I would break down if I really looked at them, trying to prolong the inevitable. We were at the tent before I knew it, a throng of blurred faces I barely recognized all gathered around to say goodbye to my mother.
When I saw a large picture frame being held up just in the center of the mat, I stopped.
I can't see her.
I couldn't move, even as Charlotte called out my name softly.
I don't want to.
I shook my head. I shut my eyes to stop the tears from spilling out—afraid that once they started, they'd flow out like a never-ending stream.
I'm scared.
I can't breathe. I don't want to be here! I can't be here!
I can't do this!
Hearing a ringing in my ears, I barely understood Charlotte as she tried to talk to me. I think she was asking me if I was okay, then her panicked voice rising when my legs gave out.
I never hit the ground, though. Instead, I felt a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist and held me up. I looked up and knew it was Carlisle holding me close to his side, asking me with a serious, concerned tone if I wanted him to get me to a doctor. That I didn't have to stay if I didn't want to.
I looked at him and saw just how much he was trying to help me. I wanted to say yes, to turn around and never have to see the place where my mother would remain forever.
But...how could I not? I had to do this for her.
Be strong. At least for today.
I straightened myself up and shook my head until he understood.
The ringing in my ears never stopped, not when they lowered my mother's casket into the ground, not when Carlisle and I were the only ones left standing before what was now her grave, not even when Carlisle had to urge me to walk back to the car. Always keeping a hand on my shoulder to help guide me.
I couldn't hear anything other than that ringing in my ears when we drove back home. When dozens of people came to the house to give me their condolences, it was all I could hear. My best friend, Jake, was there for a moment, and then he wasn't. I couldn't even bring myself to say goodbye to him before he and his dad drove back home.
Emmett was by my side too, but, just like Jake, he was also replaced by another person I could barely remember ever meeting and then another. It was endless, exhausting how many people came to talk to me about mom as if they knew her as well as I did.
Had...
I had the urge to write down her name on the notebook I left in my room upstairs, to write and write until my fingers ached. So I can never forget what that name means to me. To make sure I never forgot what she looked like or how her voice sounded. Her laugh...it had been so beautiful.
I needed to write it all down.
I sat on the couch, staring everywhere except directly into anyone's eyes. Their pity and repetitive words started making me dizzy. Suffocated me.
Suddenly I realized I'd been staring at a woman who clutched my hands in both of hers, crying hysterically and asking me what happened, why I was all alone now. I could feel everyone watching us, and I felt short of breath. She was touching me. Her clammy hands sticking themselves to my skin in a way that was revolting.
I didn't feel this way since...
Carlisle and Charlotte's gentle touches hadn't felt this tainted and disgusting to me.
And for some reason, I needed her off me. I had to wash away the revulsion before I screamed or had another terrible panic attack.
I looked at the woman, my eyes desperately trying to tell her to calm down, but it only made her cry more. Clutching me more.
I felt another wave of anxiety wash over me, freezing water running from the back of my head to my spine.
Suddenly, two sets of hands tugged the woman away from me. Not at all gentle if the woman's wince said anything. We both looked up to find Jasper staring the woman down with a reprimanding look that was bone-chilling.
"I think it's time you went to mingle with the rest of the gossips in the corner," he rasped, barely whispering. But the meaning was loud and clear.
The woman huffed and stood up, her tears magically dried up as she regarded me once more and finally walked away.
I looked up to find Jasper watching me, his eyes questioning as he took in my trembling hands. His lips parted to say something but he snapped them shut when Carlisle and Charlotte hurried over to me. Emmett was behind them with a worried look on his face.
Had he gone to get Carlisle because of the woman?
When Carlisle finally reached me, I was so relieved that I finally felt that my entire body had begun to shake horribly.
He gave a displeased look at the woman, and before he could open his mouth to speak to me, I sat up quickly, ignoring the pain in my leg that shot up at the motion.
I gave him one look that seemed to tell him enough.
I had to get out of here.
My crutches were forgotten somewhere, but I didn't care. Instead, he let me put my arm over his shoulder for support. Emmett was by my side then, holding out his arm for me to take. I must have been too dazed even to consider it, but I found myself accepting his help too—anything to get out of this room, away from these people.
A loud bang sounded behind me as we left the living room, but I couldn't bring myself to turn around. Carlisle stiffened slightly but kept walking me up the stairs until he opened my bedroom door for me.
I heard Emmett mutter, "I'll go make sure Jasper didn't break anything, but if we're lucky, he managed to scare that lady out of the house."
"Emmett," Carlisle warned his brother. I looked up at his soft green eyes as Emmett gently slipped his arm away from my trembling hand before he gave me a small smile and went back downstairs.
Seeing that I still didn't let go of him, Carlisle asked me, "Want me to call Charlotte to help you with anything?" I shook my head. He stood there for a moment before nodding, "Okay, I'll take you to your bed then." He led me to the bed, slowly sat me down while I stared at him. He knelt to help me take my shoe off my foot before his eyes found mine. I watched him warily as he slowly reached up, took the black headband I'd slid over my hair to keep it out of my face off, and placed it on the nightstand. "I'll let you sleep, but if you need anything just come find me, okay? I won't be far."
Before I could think twice, my hand flew up to grab the sleeve of his jacket. Carlisle turned around, looking down at my trembling hand, his expression serious.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" His question came out in a slow whisper.
I nodded hesitantly, my head hanging down low, ready to be judged for being so needy. I'm sure that's what he thinks of me because it's what I think about myself right now.
The truth was that I was too scared to be alone now, afraid of my own grief—that it would be too much for me to handle on my own. I've never felt so utterly terrified of my own emotions before. I was scared of what would happen once I was alone, and I had no choice but to force myself to feel them.
To my surprise, I felt Carlisle's hand take mine and settle it back on the bed. He sunk to the floor and sat down next to me, his head close to mine as he rested his chin on the bed.
I slightly flinched when his other hand pushed back a strand of my hair from my face to tuck it behind my ear.
"Alright, I'll stay with you. I'm staying," he reassured me with a whisper. I stared at his hand, holding mine a little tighter—or maybe that was me. Either way, it reassured me that he would keep his word.
Maybe tomorrow he'll change his mind and decide to send me to a foster home, or I'll change my mind and regret ever having asked him to stay with me now. I guess it would just be something I'd have to wait and see.
I turned on my side and held his hand in a vice grip as if I depended on it. He smelled like cinnamon and coffee and it calmed me down, just a bit.
The way he looked at me was like he was apprehensive of my emotions, how I would react to him if he so much as breathed. Then again, I may be doing the same thing to him now. We stayed in the same position until the noise downstairs died down, and the pale sunlight outside gradually faded to a dark orange that melded onto the walls.
"Sleep, Bella. You're safe here. No one's going to come up here to bother you. Not while I'm around." Carlisle reassured me. My eyelids grew heavier by the minute, and I knew I couldn't fight it anymore.
The last thing I remember before sleep took over was hearing Carlisle's gentle words, "I'm not going anywhere, Bella. I'm here with you. We're here."
