Bella's eyes fluttered open and she stared up at the white ceiling; she tried to stand up slowly, swaying and stumbling on the way.

When she finally made it, she turned to her latest masterpiece and smiled drunkly; it was a battlefield of some sort, there were giant wolves, teeth bared, hair standing on end; poised and ready to attack.

They were standing alongside a few people, four males and three females. They looked kind of familiar, she was sure she had seen them somewhere before.

Bella moved forward and took a closer look; her eye brows furrowed and her finger came up and dabbed at the wet paint on their faces softly. She looked at her hand and nodded.

Just what she had thought.

Glitter.

But why?

Why were these people glittery?

She looked over at the other side; there were more glittery people, many many more but no wolves. Bella took a step back and looked at it properly, it was really nothing special.

Plus, it had no meaning; it was just a picture of what looked like a soon to be fight. Bella shook her head, wondering where in her mind this had even come from.

She shivered and looked over at her small kit with a needle precariously balanced on top. Her hands shook as there were still remnants of the drug in her system.

She wiped her excessively sweaty forehead before walking through to the living room…. If you could call it that.

There were no couches, or TVs or chairs like a normal lounge.

Bella's room was full of easels and canvases; most of them were painted already.

On one side were the paintings she had done when she was sober and on the other were paintings she had done when she was unaware.

Bella bit her bottom lip guiltily.

She had been a user for the last two years, at first it was an accident, she just wanted to try for the sake of it, you know?

But when she came to that very first time, she had created the best painting she had ever done. It was a girl whom she didn't know sitting in the corner of a bedroom with her head in her hands.

It was simple yet elegant, so much so that it had sold at the monthly art fair for two thousand dollars. Bella had almost had a heart attack that day.

She stared back at the waxing moon and smiled despite herself; she wondered how Charlie would feel if he found out that she was a user.

He would have probably arrested her by now if he were still alive, she could see his disappointed face now.

What would Isaac think?

He'd probably tell her to stop, claiming that it was a bad habit when he did the same thing; he was the reason she decided to try it in the first place.

She saw him shoot up once while visiting his loft in New York; he thought she had gone to bed but luckily that wasn't the case.

Bella watched from the doorway as he stabbed the needle into his arm and tossed his head back as the poison entered his body; the syringe dropped to the floor and his head lowered slowly.

She gasped when she saw his eyes, they were pure white as if he had cataracts; Bella blinked to make sure she was awake.

She was.

Isaac moved over the paints and got to work; the way his hands moved in that state reminded her of those stupid ballet recitals Renee used to force her to watch when she was little.

Bella watched her brother for about an hour until he finally collapsed; she stepped over his body and sighed in admiration at the masterpiece he had created.

An eclipse painted in blue and white; so simple yet so brilliant.

She would never forget that painting, it really was something; better than anything he had ever done before.

Better than those stupid ninth wander comics he drew for a living.

She wanted that painting when he died but it still hadn't been released from police custody; they said that anything in the loft was evidence that could have been linked to his murder.

Water pooled in her eyes as she turned away from the night and picked up one of the two framed pictures on the mantle.

It was of her and Isaac about a year and a half ago, she was on his back and they were both laughing; probably because of Renee's camera skills…. Or lack thereof.

She really was bad at taking pictures. They were both bent to one side; an half of Isaac's head was chopped off.

How ironic.

Bella couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed; in fact she couldn't remember the last time she'd even smiled genuinely.

Nothing interested her anymore, nothing really grabbed at her soul like before; when her brother had died, he had taken her happiness with him.

The only thing he had left her with was art, which was why she would never stop painting.

Bella removed her apron and washed her hands frantically; when she was done, she started to remove all of her baking supplies from her cupboard plus some chocolate chips from the fridge.

Bella prepared the batter and placed the baking tray in the oven; she sat on the counter for thirty minutes in silence until they were ready. Bella took them out of the oven and smiled; they were perfect.

Disfigured, a little runny and…

She took a small bite….

….Yes! Utterly tasteless.

Just the way Isaac used to make; she smiled. These cookies were about the only thing he could cook, everything else caught fire. She smiled as she chewed slowly, savouring the moment.

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