14. MIND OVER MATTER – Part 1

I held her hand as we drove down the tree-laced road, the radio playing tunes from decades gone by. I sang along with some of my favorites as I watched the sunset and snuck peaks at Bella. The warm sunlight made her skin glow golden. I marveled at the red shimmers that reflected off of her hair. Everything about Bella was warm – so unlike my coldness. She was everything I was not – everything I could never be.

"You like fifties music?" She asked quietly, breaking me from my reverie.

"Music in the fifties was good. Much better than the sixties, or the seventies, ugh!" My mind drifted to memories of my life in those decades….the horrid clothing humans wore. I chuckled to myself. "The eighties were bearable."

"Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?" Her question, tentative.

Well, this should be interesting. "Does it matter much?"

"No, but I still wonder…there's nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night."

"I wonder if it will upset you," Did I say it out loud? I couldn't be sure. I gazed at the sunset, wondering how Bella would react. A 90 year difference was startling. I thought for moment about the possibility that she may think I'm older still. It was certainly the least frightening of the things I had shared with her, but somehow I still hesitated. It wasn't a question of fear. It was a question of desire. Would she still want me after she learns my age? What 17 year old is attracted to a 109 year old? I was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to avoid this conversation. Maybe I can lie about my age, like the Hollywood starlets. Yeah, that would never work….

"Try me," she interrupted my thoughts.

A sigh escaped me, revealing my trepidation. But, upon looking into Bella's eyes – her deep, strong, questioning eyes – I knew that the age was the least of our worries.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901." I stopped and glanced at her, half expecting to find her faint, slumping over in the seat. I smiled when I saw her sitting stony and quiet. It was amusing to watch her pretend to be completely unaffected by my statement. Oh yes, just another off-hand conversation, no big deal. I tossed the rest at her as though we played a casual game of catch. "Carlisle found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish influenza."

She sucked in a breath. Ah, there it is. I gazed into her eyes, but found no apprehension. She was rather taken aback, but it wasn't out of disgust. It almost seemed as though she was troubled to hear of my illness. Or perhaps, she was aghast to think of me human at all? Was she picturing me sickly and fading in a hospital cot?

"I don't remember it well — it was a very long time ago, and human memories fade." I remembered the muddy, muted voices of doctors and nurses, the muffled moans of the sick, the feeling of helplessness and isolation…and Carlisle. My memories of him before my transformation were cloudy – but I remembered he was…peaceful. "I do remember how it felt, when Carlisle saved me. It's not an easy thing, not something you could forget."

"Your parents?"

I struggled to remember them. "They had already died from the disease. I was alone. That was why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone."

"How did he… save you?" She asked, timidly. I did not want to share that pain with her.

"It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Carlisle has always been the most humane, the most compassionate of us… I don't think you could find his equal throughout all of history." How much do I tell her? "For me, it was merely very, very painful."

I considered the best way to tell her. There were so many things to tell, so many complications, so much pain. Did I want to share that with her? No, I didn't want to bring her into my dark world…but she was already so entwined. How could she fathom it? The moment that I ceased to be human and became…this. What could be said to explain Carlisle's decision without making him seem a monster? I was a monster, and I saw no way of hiding this fact, but Carlisle was much less of one than I. He, the best of us, was the cause of my … condition – but I did not blame him. He felt despair and loneliness and kept me from a natural death to release the pain – my physical pain and his own emotional pain. How could I blame him for this? Was this not what I was doing now, seeking Bella's company in a selfish desire to not feel so empty?

"He acted from loneliness. That's usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carlisle's family, though he found Esme soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating."

"So you must be dying, then, to become…" She paused, unable or unwilling to utter the thing that I am. Was it really better to avoid the word?

"No, that's just Carlisle. He would never do that to someone who had another choice. It is easier he says, though, if the blood is weak." I considered my words. Easier. What did I mean by that? She would surely assume I referred to an ease in…transition. Would she even consider what I truly meant? Could she understand that frenzy…that uncontrollable need? I didn't want her to see Carlisle for a monster; a creature that could have devoured me so easily. No, Carlisle was not a monster. He was a good thing, a strong thing. Only with Bella did I begin to understand the strength Carlisle possessed.

"And Emmett and Rosalie?" Her soft voice interrupted my reflection. It was frustrating not to know how her mind was assimilating all of this. Was she asking questions to convince herself to run? I wanted to be able to gage her, to know what to say.

"Carlisle brought Rosalie to our family next. I didn't realize till much later that he was hoping she would be to me what Esme was to him — he was careful with his thoughts around me." Ah, Rosalie. What was Carlisle thinking? He obviously didn't know my type. No, because my type is apparently dark-haired, blushing, human girls that I must continually remind myself not to snack on. I doubt Carlisle would have guessed I was insane…but we all know now. "But, she was never more than a sister. It was only two years later that she found Emmett. She was hunting — we were in Appalachia at the time — and found a bear about to finish him off. She carried him back to Carlisle, more than a hundred miles, afraid she wouldn't be able to do it herself. I'm only beginning to guess how difficult that journey was for her."

I raised our hands to her warm face. My entire family was stronger than me. Rosalie and Emmett, strong for one another. Carlisle and his intense compassion for humanity. Esme who loved so deeply. How could anyone think her a monster? Alice and her strange visions, guiding her out of darkness. And even Jasper, who was the newest and the weakest. Even Jasper was stronger than I, with his deep empathy. They all had the strength to find joy and purpose. What was I? An empty, hollow thing that found no joy or purpose in this existence….and now, I am so pathetic to drag this soul down to my darkness.

"But she made it," she said with some conviction, as her eyes looked into mine.

"Yes," he murmured. "She saw something in his face that made her strong enough. And they've been together ever since. Sometimes they live separately from us, as a married couple. But the younger we pretend to be, the longer we can stay in any given place. Forks seemed perfect, so we all enrolled in high school." How many times was it now? And each wedding more elaborate than the last, thanks to Rosalie's vanity and Alice's obsessions. I chucked. "I suppose we'll have to go to their wedding in a few years, again."

"Alice and Jasper?"

"Alice and Jasper are two very rare creatures. They both developed a conscience, as we refer to it, with no outside guidance. Jasper belonged to another… family, a very different kind of family. He became depressed, and he wandered on his own. Alice found him. Like me, she has certain gifts above and beyond the norm for our kind."

"Really?" Bella quickly said, fascinated. "But you said you were the only one who could hear people's thoughts."

"That's true. She knows other things. She sees things — things that might happen, things that are coming. But it's very subjective. The future isn't set in stone. Things change." I wouldn't let Bella's future…no, she had a different future. Alice was wrong. I glanced at Bella. Her brown eyes were curious and innocent. She had no idea what world she was flirting with.

"What kinds of things does she see?" Her sweet voice calmed my thoughts.

"She saw Jasper and knew that he was looking for her before he knew it himself. She saw Carlisle and our family, and they came together to find us. She's most sensitive to non-humans. She always sees, for example, when another group of our kind is coming near. And any threat they may pose."

"Are there a lot of… your kind?" She seemed afraid; unsure if she really wanted to know how many monsters were in the world.

"No, not many. But most won't settle in any one place. Only those like us, who've given up hunting you people," I looked at her through the corner of my eye, letting the corner of my mouth curve up in a playful smirk. Don't worry, little Bella, I won't let the monsters get you. "can live together with humans for any length of time. We've only found one other family like ours, in a small village in Alaska. We lived together for a time, but there were so many of us that we became too noticeable. Those of us who live… differently tend to band together."

"And the others?" Others. As with every other discussion of monsters, we gloss over the word.

"Nomads, for the most part. We've all lived that way at times. It gets tedious, like anything else. But we run across the others now and then, because most of us prefer the North."

"Why is that?" She asked, enthralled with the conversation. I saw her pupils register that we were in her driveway. I switched off the truck and turned toward her. There was no moon, only shimmers of light from unknown sources moved slowly around our skin. It was becoming a regular game for myself – the moments when I tried to remember what it was like to be human. What could Bella see in this dark? Much less than I could. Could she see my features at all? I struggled to remember a moment. A quiet moment. I was young. It was dark, but I was not afraid. A sweet voice. My mother? I couldn't be sure. The light danced around the room we were in like it did on Bella's face. I broke away from my choppy memory. It had been too long since my thoughts rested on my life before the change, but I found myself more filled with the need to remember. I couldn't hear her mind…but maybe I could hear my own… She sat patiently, waiting for a response. I smiled at her eager expression.

"Did you have your eyes open this afternoon? Do you think I could walk down the street in the sunlight without causing traffic accidents? There's a reason why we chose the Olympic Peninsula, one of the most sunless places in the world. It's nice to be able to go outside in the day. You wouldn't believe how tired you can get of nighttime in eighty-odd years."

"So that's where the legends came from?"

"Probably." And the paranoia of simpler generations.

"And Alice came from another family, like Jasper?"

"No, and that is a mystery. Alice doesn't remember her human life at all. And she doesn't know who created her. She awoke alone. Whoever made her walked away, and none of us understand why, or how, he could. If she hadn't had that other sense, if she hadn't seen Jasper and Carlisle and known that she would someday become one of us, she probably would have turned into a total savage."

As I finished appeasing Bella's mind, I realized I had forgotten to appease her stomach. Her body growled in hunger. Good job, Edward. Forget to feed the human.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from dinner." I smiled.

"I'm fine, really." Her voice was filled with conflict.

"I've never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forget."

"I want to stay with you."

"Can't I come in?" I asked, trying to avoid sounding to eager. Inviting a monster into her house wasn't something a girl did every day.

"Would you like to?"

"Yes, if it's all right." I said as I quickly exited the truck and dashed around to open Bella's door.

"Very human," she smiled her sweet smile.

"It's definitely resurfacing." I followed her to the door, but just before we reached the threshold, I sped ahead of her, grabbing the hidden key and unlocking the door. She paused as she entered the house.

"The door was unlocked?"

Oh. So much for hiding my eagerness. "No, I used the key from under the eave."

She spun and stared at me with raised, curious eyebrows. Her eyes were firm and set.

"I was curious about you." I quickly said, bypassing the inevitable question.

"You spied on me?" She didn't seem angry.

"What else is there to do at night?" I said truthfully. She quietly turned toward the interior of the house and walked away from me. I dashed in front of her and sat in the chair at the end of the table. She stood there and considered me for a moment. These were the thoughts I wanted to hear. These silent moments. She was making decisions, I could tell that much. Was she weighing the good and the bad? Considering her own sanity? I wished I could know.

She turned from me after a moment and began preparing a meal. It smelled pungent and foul. I watched her work. She was careful to avoid looking at me. She was still thinking. I shouldn't have used the key. It only served to reveal how desperate I am for her presence. What did she think of me? Could I be trusted? I'd much rather be a guest in her home with her knowledge. All the sneaking was tiresome. I realized that I had undermined her authority over my presence in her home. Now she knew I had been her before…without asking. She knew that I would have come in later, even if she had said no. Surely she was considering how offended she was by my behavior. How very ungentlemanly, Edward. Brilliant job. Suddenly I realized she was speaking.

"Hmmm?" I asked her. She stared intently at her food, spinning hypnotically in the microwave.

"How often did you come here?"

Oh. Well. I might as well just own up to it all then. "I come here almost every night." I carefully watched her as she whirled around to face me.

"Why?" She was forceful, but I thought I heard embarrassment more than anger. I couldn't be sure.

"You're interesting when you sleep." I stated. Absolutely, impossibly fascinating, actually. "You talk."

"No!" She suddenly gasped and leaned on the counter. She was angry with me. I wondered if I would get out of this one.

"Are you very angry with me?" I asked quietly, hoping she wouldn't answer by screaming for me to leave.

I would, of course. Leave. My gut twisted as her voice cracked out of her throat.

"That depends!"

That wasn't the command I was expecting. In fact, it wasn't a command at all. I sat silently, but she stared at the countertop like it was a life vest floating in an ocean she was lost in.

"On?" I prodded, wishing she'd say something…anything.

"What you heard!" She was very nearly crying.

I flashed to her side and gently grasped her warm hands. "Don't be upset!" I pleaded. I was suddenly reminded of how my family felt with me around, always lingering in their private moments. Of course they knew I didn't want to spy on them, but it was still there. The feeling of losing your privacy. I had wrongly convinced myself that Bella was safe from my invasions – when she was actually the worst victim of them all. I actively chose to invade her private moments and I was disgusted with myself for the infraction. I had to calm her and let her know exactly how much I knew. It was the only right thing to do.

"You miss your mother," I whispered, hoping to relax her nerves. "You worry about her. And when it rains, the sound makes you restless. You used to talk about home a lot, but it's less often now. Once you said, 'It's too green.'" I allowed a small laugh, enough to lighten the mood.

"Anything else?" she demanded, but with less volume and less tears.

"You did say my name," Yes, I needed to say everything.

She sighed and I felt her hands get heavy. "A lot?"

"How much do you mean by 'a lot,' exactly?" I said, impishly.

"Oh no!"

Her entire body was heavy now and I was sure she might melt to the ground. I held her against my chest as gently as I could, trying to comfort her.

"Don't be self-conscious," I whispered, my lips desperately close to her ears, flush with blood. "If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I'm not ashamed of it."

Just as the swirling, hot frenzy in my head began, I heard the sound of Bella's father outside. A second later she heard it too.

"Should your father know I'm here?" I asked, responding to her sudden rigid pose.

"I'm not sure…" She said hesitantly and I knew there was no time.

"Another time then…" and I dashed out the back door. She hissed my name, startled at my absence. I allowed one quiet chuckle as I faded into the darkness. I'm not going anywhere, my Bella.

I dashed around the house and scaled the wall, slipping into her window before the porch light could catch up with me. Her father's voice called her name and I heard her break from her rigid stance. Her heartbeat skipped and I heard her feet pad across the kitchen to the table.

Leaving the two to their conversation (not wanting to be intrusive yet again tonight), I picked up one of Bella's tattered novels and sat in the old, familiar chair. I let my eyes scan the pages without much thought as to what I was reading. I looked up and glanced into her closet. Various articles of clothing and shoes were tumbling out of the open door. A pale green pullover. The dark blue blouse. A jacket with a glove peeking out from the pocket. I have often entertained the idea of leaving Bella little gifts and notes around her room, but after her horrified reaction to the revelation that I had spied on her sleeping, I was grateful that I had never gone through with the idea. I sat in the dark, pondering what a monster I was. Not the immortal monster, but this new beast – a stalker and a peeping Tom. I wasn't much better than the human scum I had once hunted. I wondered how I had gone from existing as a hollow, emotionless creature to being overwhelmed by the very thought of a fragile little girl.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a name I despised. Mike Newton. A deep growl grew in my chest and I was renewed in my desire to keep Bella close and safe. Forgive me my sins, Bella, but I could not bear him holding you like he imagines. With that thought, I heard Bella tell her father she was retiring early. I wondered if she expected me to be sitting in this old chair and chuckled to myself. I was already in trouble for spying….why stop now?

I listened to Bella's footsteps tread carefully up the stairs. Amused at her attempt to calm her father's worries, I listened to her father's thoughts. "Maybe she's thinking of sneaking out?" "I wonder if she'd tell me if she had a boyfriend?" "What do I really know about this Mike Newton fellow?"

I smiled silently as her father pondered things every father ponders – things every daughter dreads her father ponders. If only he knew Mike Newton wasn't the one he should be pondering.