Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, the New Moon dialogues, parts of the plot and character names. All other plotlines, characterizations, and details belong to the author: Bronzehyperion. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without the author's authorization. ©2009-2010 Bronzehyperion. All rights reserved worldwide.
Chapter 12: VOID
Doesn't anyone fill the void?
Doesn't anyone kill the noise?
Doesn't anyone take the place of you?
The phone in my pocket vibrated again. It was the twenty-fifth time in twenty-four hours. I thought about opening the phone, at least seeing who was trying to contact me. Perhaps it was important. Maybe Carlisle needed me.
I thought about it. But I did not mow.
I wasn't precisely sure where I was. Some dark attic crawl space, full of rats and spiders. The spiders ignored me and the rats gave me a wide berth. The air was thick with the heavy scents of cooking oil, rancid meat, human sweat and the nearly solid layer of pollution that was actually visible in the humid air. Like a black film over everything. Below me four stories of a rickety ghetto tenement teamed with life. I didn't bother to separate the thoughts from the voices—they made a big loud Portuguese clamor that I didn't listen to. I just let the sounds bounce off me.
Meaningless. All of it was meaningless. My very existence was meaningless.
The whole world was meaningless.
I had tried to find it - despite my better judgment- this meaning I knew I'd once felt. The meaning I knew existed out there. But nothing could replace what I had known to be mine and nothing could erase the haunting realization my life was truly over – my final and permanent death after years of lingering and longing for finality, only been broken in consistency by the presence of the angel for as long as it had lasted.
The angel which would never be mine again. Which I should have never pursued.
The angel I should never have left.
It was March 15. I knew this because my body was designed to keep track of the days, even if my mind refused to acknowledge the time that had passed.
I was still in Sao Paolo, Brazil. My haven of solitude and hideaway.
If someone would ask me why I was still here; in a climate that didn't appease me and an environment that was not mine, I would not be able to answer.
Because I didn't know. I had no reason to be here. But there was no reason to begin with, so why pack up and move, travel to another place that held no meaning? It made no sense and didn't give me any more reason to be there than it did for me to be here. So I might as well stay put.
I supposed this was my bridge. I knew now Sao Paolo and its atmosphere were my undoing, my bridge to jump off. I could stay in this attic, curled up and lifeless until I would find the courage to jump.
My routine these days - if I had one - was very simple. I'd do nothing. Nothing at all.
That was an oxymoron; a contradictory way of behaving and acting. I didn't do a thing but that in itself proved to be hard to execute. How did one do nothing? More importantly, how did one survive doing nothing without it wanting to make them pull their hair out? Or worse; without the longing for sleep or death, knowing that kind of peace would never come.
As much as time had proven to be monotone intervals without change before Bella had come into my life, I had always found ways of occupying myself. Even when we had first left Forks and arrived in Alaska, I occasionally tried some sort of activity, were it hunting or the small one sided conversations with my family.
That had been something compared to my days now.
Out of habit and to keep them at bay I called my family every few months which, as I had been here a while, hadn't been often. I only did it because I knew they were worried and I wasn't completely heartless.
Even if I was without a heart.
Another oxymoron.
It was not like I didn't have options to entertain myself. I could explore the Sao Paolo Art Museum and their broad collection. I could walk around Ibirapuera Park in the morning and hide from the burning sun at its highest peak in the afternoon inside the Metropolitan Cathedral. Then hunt at night before calling my family and wait for night time before everything would start all over again the next day.
That would have been a plan and I might have had the intention to keep myself busy, had it not been for the one conviction I had; I was lost.
Being lost meant I spend my days in a small crawling space of a smelly restaurant. The only constant in my days were the sounds I blocked out, the scents that were all wrong and making it harder to breathe. The position of my body was always the same; angled in some sort of fetal position. My forehead pressed against my knees.
I wondered how much longer I would be able to stand this.
If I kept my eyes closed and tuned everything out, she was there. The angel.
She was always there.
On one of the first nights I had been here, I had made the mistake of going out and taking a walk. Look for something small to hunt nearby. The streets had been almost empty and while I'd known I would not find a banquet of elk or deer, some smaller animals would have to do.
It had been a necessity; otherwise nothing could have tempted me to go out. But as I had made my way down the small unevenly pebbled streets close to the outskirts of Ibirapuera Park, I'd stumbled upon the greatest temptation of all.
She had stood there, as if she'd been waiting a long time. Even in the faint moonlight her mahogany hair had sparkled like it had rubies woven in.
Bella.
In Sao Paolo.
At the time, I had no way of comprehending how she had gotten here but as I had followed her through narrow allies and busy plazas I had not been able to bring myself to care about the details.
Bella had been right there in front of me. Sweeping her long mahogany hair over her shoulder, coyly looking back at me in the dimness of the night. The darkness had prevented me from seeing her beautiful ivory face, but I had followed her nonetheless. I would follow her anywhere.
She had moved more swiftly than I'd remembered, more fluently, her hips slightly swaying. It had been the most breathtaking vision I'd ever laid eyes upon.
She'd continued to take small peeks over her shoulder, assumingly to make sure I was still following her.
So wrong it had been for her to think I'd not follow her.
The moon hadn't been very bright and the allies had gotten more arrow and dark, as I had followed the enigma walking in front of me.
The one thing that should have alerted me at the time, that should have drawn me from the delusion that Bella was being a prey I had to follow being the hunter I was, had been my surprise that she didn't entirely smell like I remembered; naturally her blood had smelled like blood, but it hadn't had the powerful effect of flames in my throat, of venom seeping into my mouth.
It had been regular thirst, but nothing special. Nothing as alluring as the way Bella's rich sweet blood had always enticed me whenever I'd been close.
That should have tipped me off. That should have pulled me from the delusion Bella had been in Sao Paolo. But it had the opposite effect.
I'd been poorly mistaken in the assumption that maybe this lack of potency was a good thing. After all I had rationalized; if her blood was far less potent to me, I could be close to her without risking her life and my sanity.
This would mean that I could go back to Forks. That I was not a murderous fiend that needed to spend every moment making sure he would not kill his love.
My a-skewed judgment could have been onto something, had I not been completely fooled. Had I been rational.
Because all will to maintain some sort of pattern, have the smallest hint of meaning had crumbled when I had finally reached the one I had been following.
At some point, she had slowed down and I had been able to reach her with ease. The teasing had been over and for the slightest hint of a second, I'd felt like I had won.
A short-lived victory.
When I had reached her she had turned carefully, almost as if she were in slow motion. Capturing the moment of our reunion by taking her time.
I recalled how I had smiled at her encouragingly, until she was completely facing me.
A gasp had escaped my lips the moment the creature in front of me had become visible.
It hadn't been Bella. Of course not. I'd been blinded by yet another hallucination. The ones which normally lingered in my mind had now finally caught up with me.
The girl had been nothing but a stranger.
A false hallucination I had stalked to the point of insanity.
I had followed a stranger across Sao Paolo. A complete stranger.
It hadn't even registered that my phone had been buzzing. Of course Alice had called instantly and in good evasive fashion I had ignored her calls as soon as I had snapped out of my initial shock.
Though something had finally broken inside me. That had been my final undoing. The final nail to my non-existent coffin.
After that night, I had crawled up into the attic and never left again, with the exceptions of the need to hunt, which had only happened twice since I'd situated myself here in the darkness.
Eventually Alice had stopped calling and it wasn't until I had decided to contact my family out of courtesy I had spoken to her again and only because I had not been able to reach my parents.
"I see you finally decide to allow me to scold you for ignoring me for weeks?" she had spoken coolly.
I had ignored her. "How's Ithaca?"
"Well, let's see….I would not know, since I am not in Ithaca," she had told me.
As it turned out, that would be one of the last times I would speak to Alice and comprehend any of her information. She had told me about the research into her past, about her younger sister Cynthia and her daughter, Alice's niece who still lived in Biloxi.
I had offered little response to which Alice had sighed theatrically. She'd tried to talk to me, to talk about what had happened weeks before with the stranger that had not been Bella, but she never managed to get anything from me.
Phone calls had becoming infrequent after that. My family wanted me to come to Ithaca. I could hear the longing for completion in Esme's voice. Carlisle's pleading because he wanted to make Esme happy. He'd offered me a position at the hospital a few times, all of which I had numbly refused. Esme would try to coax me into joining them, but her attempts always ending up in silence. My silence.
After a few times, I couldn't bear to hear them suffer and selfish as I was so I checked in less and less.
I knew I was being selfish, as selfish as I had ever been.
My days, empty and unfamiliar were filled with void. Nothing.
I was nothing.
The only thing making it a little better was closing my eyes and seeing her face. As long as I stayed here in my own prison, I wasn't harming random girls who looked like Bella.
My brain had snapped to a point where more and more I was starting to think about going back.
Back to Forks.
Every time I thought of it, the idea was so powerful, so healing—like the words contained a strong anesthetic, washing away the mountain of pain I was buried under—that it made me gasp, made me dizzy.
I could leave now, I could go back.
Bella's face, always behind the lids of my eyes, smiled at me.
It was a smile of welcome, of forgiveness but it did not have the affect my subconscious probably intended if to have. It should have been encouraging. But it wasn't.
The mirage I had been seeing since I had left Forks was now burned into my mind and etched into my soul. It wasn't as inviting as I longed for it to be. It was scolding.
Of course I could not go back. What was my pain, after all, in comparison to her happiness? She should be able to smile, free from fear and danger. Free from a longing for a soulless future. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than me. When she left this world, she would go to a place that was forever barred to me no matter how I conducted myself here.
Bella was not and should never be responsible for my personal state of being. I could burn in hell forever and it would not be her obligation to care or make things right.
It was time for that bridge. That bridge that would allow me to meet my final fate.
The end of everything.
The idea of that final separation was so much more intense than the pain I already had. My body shook with it. When Bella went on to the place where she belonged and I never could. I would not linger here behind. There must be oblivion. There must be relief.
That was my hope, but there were no guarantees. To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the nib. I quoted to myself. Even when I was ash, would I somehow still feel the torture of her loss?
I shuddered again.
And, damn it. I'd promised. I'd promised her that I wouldn't haunt her life again, bring my black demons into it. I wasn't going back on my word. Couldn't I do anything right by her? Anything at all?
The idea of returning to the cloudy little town that would always be my true home on this planet snaked through my thoughts again.
Just to check. Just to see that she's well and safe and happy. Not to interfere. She would never know I was there...
No. Damn it. No.
You will keep to your word.
The phone vibrated again and as much as I wanted to ignore it, its buzzing enhanced the feeling of irritation I felt with myself. With my wavering state.
'Damn it. Damn it. Damn it." I growled.
I could use the distraction. I supposed. I flipped the phone open and registered the numbers with the first shock I'd felt in months.
Why would Rosalie be calling me? She was the one person who was probably enjoying my absence. The one I hadn't spoken to since Alaska.
There must be something truly wrong if she needed to talk to me. Suddenly worried for my family, I hit the send button.
"What?" I asked tensely.
"Oh wow, Edward answered the phone. I feel so honored," she sneered.
As soon as I heard her tone, I knew my family was fine. She must just be bored. It was hard to guess at her motives without her thoughts as a guide. Rosalie had never made much sense to me. Her impulses were usually founded on the most convoluted kinds of logic. I supposed that maybe she was calling me to annoy me, in which she was succeeding already.
I snapped the phone shut.
"Leave me alone," I whispered to nobody.
Of course the phone vibrated again at once.
Would she keep calling until she passed along whatever message she was planning to annoy me with? Probably. Rosalie was nothing if not persistent. It would take months for her to grow tired of this game. I toyed with the idea of letting her hit redial for the next half year...and then sighed and answered the phone again, knowing the sooner I'd let her spill whatever made her desperate to call me, the sooner I could go back to…the darkness.
"Get on with it."
Rosalie rushed through the words. "I thought you would want to know that Alice is in Forks."
I opened my eyes and stared at the rotten wooden beams three inches from my face.
Alice was in Forks? In Forks, Washington? Alice was home?
"What?" My voice was flat, emotionless.
"You know how Alice is—thinks she knows everything. Like you," Rosalie chuckled humorlessly. Her voice had a nervous edge, like she was suddenly unsure about what she was doing.
I would've been able to pick up on this had it not been for my rage. It made it hard to care what Rosalie's problem was.
Alice was in Forks, I seethed silently
Alice had sworn to me that she would follow my lead in regards to Bella, though she did not agree with my decision. She'd promised that she would let Bella alone...for as long as I did. She would keep an eye on Victoria, but she would leave Bella out of it.
Clearly, she'd thought I would eventually fold to the pain. Maybe she was right about that.
But despite her pre-cognitive idea that I was weak – that was surely what she'd use as an excuse when I confronted her- I hadn't yet. Maybe she was tricking me.
So what was she doing in Forks? I wanted to wring her skinny neck. Not that Jasper would let me get that close to her once he caught a whiff of the fury blowing out of me...
"Are you still there? Edward?"
I didn't answer. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingertips, wondering if it were possible for a vampire to get a migraine.
On the other hand, if Alice had already gone back...
There was no reason for me not to follow. Maybe there was a danger. It could be Victoria and Bella would be unprotected and…
No. No. No. No.
I'd made a promise. Bella deserved a life. I'd made a promise. Bella deserved a life.
I repeated the words like a mantra, trying to clear my head of the seductive image of Bella's dark window. The doorway to my only sanctuary.
No doubt I would have to grovel, were I to return. I didn't mind that. I could happily spend the next decade on my knees if I were with her. I would do anything.
No. no. no.
"Edward? Don't you even care why Alice is there?"
"Not particularly," I spat, hoping that if I sounded disinterested, Rosalie would drop it and leave me alone.
Rosalie's voice turned a trifle smug now. Pleased, no doubt, that she'd forced a response from me.
"Well, of course, she's not exactly breaking the rules. I mean, you only warned us to stay away from Bella, right? The rest of Forks doesn't matter."
Huh? Going to Forks would make it impossible for Alice to stay away from Bella.
Unless Bella wasn't there…
I blinked my eyes slowly. Bella had left? My thoughts circled around the unexpected idea. She hadn't graduated yet so perhaps she had returned to her mother. That was good. She should live in sunshine. It was good that she'd been able to put the shadows behind her.
I tried to swallow, and couldn't.
Rosalie trilled a nervous laugh. '"So you don't need to be angry with Alice."
"'Then why did you call me, Rosalie, if not to get Alice in trouble? Why are you bothering me? Ugh!"
I was about to close my phone again, tired of this mind game Rosalie seemed to enjoy playing.
"'Wait!" she said, sensing, rightly, that I was able to hang up again. "That's not why I called."
"Then why? Tell me quickly, and then leave me alone."
"Well..." she hesitated.
"'Spit it out. Rosalie. You have ten seconds."
"I think you should come home, Rosalie said in a rush. "'I'm tired of Esme grieving and Carlisle never laughing. You should feel ashamed at what you've done to them. Emmett misses you all the time and it's getting on my nerves. You have a family. Grow up and think about something besides yourself."
"Interesting advice. Rosalie. Let me tell you a little story about a pot and a kettle..."
"I am thinking about them, unlike you. Don't you care how much you've hurt Esme if no one else? She loves you more than the rest of us and you know that. Come home."
I didn't answer for I knew she was right about her assessment. Unfortunately, it still didn't make me care enough to give in.
"'I thought once this whole Forks thing was finished, you would get over it."
"Forks was never the problem, Rosalie," I said, trying – to be patient but failing. What she'd said about Esme and Carlisle had struck a chord though. "Just because Bella" —it was hard to say her name out loud, harder than an time I'd spend thinking of her…this tore through me — "has moved to Florida, if doesn't mean that I'm able" - I was choking on the words....
"Look, Rosalie. I really am sorry, but trust me it wouldn't make anyone happier if I were there."
"Um..."
There it was. That nervous hesitation again. This time, I did pick up on it.
It made me strangely nervous too.
"What is it that you're not telling me Rosalie? Is Esme all right? Is Carlisle—"
"'They're fine. It's just...well…I didn't say that Bella moved"
I didn't speak. I ran over our conversation in my head. Yes. Rosalie had said that Bella had moved. She'd said: ...you only warned us to stay away from Bella, right? The rest of Forks doesn't matter. And then: / thought once this whole Forks thing was finished... So Bella wasn't in Forks. What in the name of something holy was Rosalie getting at? Bella hadn't moved?
If she hadn't moved than where was she?
Before I could mull this over, Rosalie was rushing through her words again, saying them almost angrily this time.
"They didn't want to tell you. But I think that's stupid. The quicker you get over this; the sooner things can go back to normal. Why let you mope around the dark corners of the world when there's no need for it? You can come home now. We can be a family again. It's over."
My mind seemed to be broken. I couldn't make sense of her words. It was like there was something very, very obvious she was telling me. But I had no idea what it was. My brain played with the information, making strange patterns of it. Nonsensical. Why would we go back to Forks? Where was Bella? Where was my ability to understand nouns and verbs and comprehend whatever it was Rosalie was trying to tell me?
"Edward?"
"I don't understand what you are saying, Rosalie." I told her honestly.
A long pause, the length of a few human heartbeats. That's how long it took for Rosalie to kill me. Metaphorically.
"She's dead. Edward."
A longer pause. My mouth wouldn't move. My mind was blank, empty. The words Rosalie had spoken were echoing there, but their meaning had yet to hit me.
I was numb. More void.
"I'm...sorry. You have a right to know though, I think. Bella... threw herself off a cliff two days ago. Alice saw it. But it was too late to do anything. I think she would have helped, though, broken her word, if there had been time. She went back to do what she could for Charlie. You know how she's always cared for him—"
The phone went dead. It took me a few seconds to realize that I'd shut the power off.
I sat in the dusty darkness for a long, frozen space. It was like time had ended. Like the universe had stopped.
Slowly, moving like an old man. I turned my phone back on and dialed the one number I'd promise myself I would never call again. But I had to know if the words were true.
If it was her, I would hang up. If it was Charlie, I'd get the information I needed through subterfuge. I'd prove Rosalie's sick little joke wrong, and then go back to my nothingness and stay there.
"Swan residence," answered a voice I'd never heard before. A man's husky voice, deep, but still youthful. I would have questioned it at any other time, but the details did not matter now.
I didn't even pause to think about the implications of that.
"This is Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I said, perfectly imitating my father's voice. "May I please speak to Charlie?"
"He's not here," the voice responded, and I was dimly surprised by the anger in it. The words were almost a snarl. But that didn't matter either. Nothing did but the one truth I was looking for. The only thing to keep me afloat.
"Well, where is he then?" I demanded, getting impatient.
There was a short pause, as if the stranger wanted to withhold the information from me.
"He's at the funeral," the boy finally answered.
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Reviews are welcome and appreciated!
Parts of the dialogue are from Stephenie Meyer's outtake from New Moon; called "Rosalie's News" You can find it on her website. Some parts I slightly edited.
Title and words at the beginning are from a song called "Void" by Darren Hayes.