I always knew I was different, that I didn't belong with "regular" people, that I just couldn't be the same as others. My complexion is "too" pale, my face is "too" plain, my personality is "too" much. I get that. Maybe that's why I felt at home with the Cullens who were also outside the status quo, and why the absence of Edward and his family felt like I was losing a crucial part of myself.
Maybe at one point in my messed up life I wasn't an outsider, or a freak. But instead, part of the group, surrounded with true friends. But even that period of time was brief, gone so quick that if you blinked you might miss it.
One never knows what life has in store; when the bad times are over, when your blessings will run out, when your life is going off track or simply down a new avenue. There is no way to know when it's finally safe to expect your life to stay the same.
But there is one thing I know that will never change: my name is Bella Marie Swan, and I am a daughter of Aphrodite.
Chapter 1
Time passes, even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
Charlie's fist came down on the table. "THAT'S IT, Bella! I'm sending you back to camp."
I looked up from the cereal I had been pushing around the bowl for the past couple minutes to see Charlie, staring at me from across the kitchen table. Up until this point, I confess that I haven't been following the conversation - actually, I hadn't been aware that we were even having a conversation.
"Camp?" I mumbled, confused. Camp is a word that I haven't considered in years. I felt flashes of emotions rush through me, leaving almost as fast as they came. It felt too fast to put a name to, a feeling that felt foreign these days. Hell, feeling anything except numbness or pain felt foreign to me now.
Charlie watched with exasperation as I slowly grasped the meaning of his words.
"What did I do?" I felt my face crumple. It was so unfair. My behavior had been above reproach for the past eight months. Ever since… that event and the week that followed. I had a perfect school record, probably the best I've had in my life, I never broke curfew - though that was partly due to never having any where to go that was worth breaking curfew for. I can't pretend I have always been such a model daughter, but it's been years since I left behind my "unpredictable" and "fearless to the point of insanity" personality behind, hiding it along with my orange shirt and favorite knife.
Charlie was scowling.
"You didn't do anything. That's the problem. You never do Anything."
"You want me to get into trouble? Really, even after all those times you begged me otherwise-" I started. I made an effort to pay attention to the conversation, a feat that wasn't easy nowadays, though the bewilderment I felt from Charlie's bizarre statement definitely didn't help.
"No, no, no, you Know that isn't what I'm talking about." Charlie interrupted. "But even so, even your scarily impressive pranks that I still don't know how you accomplished might be better than this… moping."
I flinched. I'd been careful to avoid all forms of moroseness, moping included.
"I'm not moping around."
"Wrong word," he grudgingly conceded. "Moping would be better - that would be doing something. You're just… lifeless, Bella. I think that's the word I want."
That accusation struck home. I'd thought I'd been fooling him. Keeping Charlie from suffering along with me was the whole point of this effort. How depressing to think that the effort had been wasted.
Charlie must have seen my face fall. "Bells… I'm not bringing this up to blame you. Maybe it's time to get some help-"
I cut him off with a scoff. We'd already been down this road before when I first returned from Camp last year. I don't know much about psychoanalysis, but I was pretty sure that it didn't work unless the subject was relatively honest. Sure, I could tell the truth - if I wanted to spend the rest of my life in a padded cell.
He examined my obstinate expression, probably noting that this conversation wouldn't go any different the second time, and switched to a different line of attack.
"It's beyond me, Bella. Maybe if you spend some time with your friends back at Camp, it will help-"
"Or maybe it wouldn't help one little bit." I said, grinding my teeth in frustration at the change in attack, one that admittedly had higher changes of success. The truth is that I did miss my friends deeply. I still got updates of life at camp from time to time, but the longing I felt for carefree days in the sun, laughing and focusing only on having fun and developing my skills grew the more I pictured my friends' faces. One particular smirking, white-green face stayed in my thoughts, like a devil on my shoulder jumping in on Charlie's case.
"It doesn't have to be forever, you know. Just give it a try for the summer, and if it doesn't help you can always come back in August." Charlie reasoned. I started to scowl, more because I wanted to resist agreeing with his compromise than feeling actual anger.
Just as I was about to start on a convoluted distraction to hopefully end this dangerous conversation, I saw Charlie give me a knowing, annoyed look as he slammed his fist on the kitchen table.
"Dammit Bella, we both know what's really going on here, and it's not good for you." He took a deep breath. "It's been months. No calls, no letters, no contact. You can't keep waiting for him."
I glowered at him. The heat almost, but not quite reached my face. It had been a long time since I'd blushed with any emotion. This whole subject was utterly forbidden, as he was well aware.
"I'm not waiting for anything. I don't expect anything," I said in a low monotone.
"Honey… please, for me, give it a shot, okay? I won't ask for anything but giving it a solid try. Spend the summer with your friends, before I have to send you off to college where I can't be sure you're okay." Charlie choked out. I felt my heart clench and I sighed. I thought I had hidden how deep my grief went, shielded Charlie from such a weak and fragile part of myself. I hadn't fooled him at all, not for one second.
"Okay. I'll go." I said in a soft voice, leaning my head down to hide my red nose and unreliable eyes that seemed about to betray my grief at the thought of leaving the only place where He and I were once in love.
Charlie silently reached out and grabbed my hand. It felt warm and like I could breathe slightly easier.
Standing in my bedroom, I zipped up my duffle bag holding all the things I'd need for camp: clothes, shoes, toiletries, weapons, bottles of Sprite that the camp's magically filling goblets simply can't compete with. I took a final look around the room, desperately holding back tears as I willed myself to think of memories without Him. Not the nights I fell asleep to his beautiful voice quietly singing, feeling his cold arms around me in a way that seemed to be trying to tell me to never leave them…
I cracked and lost control of both my face, which streamed with tears and my thoughts which were consumed with the fear of losing yet another piece of him. My mind raced with images of Edward's smile, his smirk, his surprised and slightly widened eyes at my occasional slips into my hidden teasing and mischievous nature I buried when I left camp.
"You're always too much, when will you learn when to quit it?"
This old memory shocked me out of my tears, allowing me to quickly shut off any dangerous thoughts of Him. He said it himself. He didn't love me; I wasn't good enough for him. And I didn't blame him for feeling this way. It was all 100% true; I mean how could anyone, let alone someone as perfect inside and out as Him, love ME? It was ridiculous. I can't believe he was able to keep up the charade until now.
Even though I knew these things were true, I wish they weren't. I wish I was able to stand by his side and think that I was worthy of him, that we were meant to be together, but I know I wasn't good enough for him.
I wiped roughly at my face to remove the evidence of my loss of control, cleared my throat, and made a final resolution.
I will listen to the final words he left me.
I will try to live a "happy life". Or at least settle for being content.
He kept his side of the promise to leave no trace, so I will keep my promise as well.
I threw my bag over my shoulder, leaving the room and what felt like the last piece of him I had left.
Whatcha think? Let me know! My goal in this rewrite isn't to totally change the emotions and characters, I want to give this story another chance with a fresh perspective and (hopefully) a better writing writing style lol