Chapter 10: Paintbrush

The couch Bree was sitting on was soft. Treacherously soft. She couldn't believe how comfortable it was. She doubted she had ever sat on such amazing furniture before. Its grey, soft surface, along with its fillings, made sitting on it an incredible experience. She was mad about not wanting to sit on it before this moment. She wanted to purr and curl on it like a cat, but acknowledged doing it would be quite humiliating. She didn't want to cause her own embarrassment once again.

The sun set two times in the span of time it had taken for Bree to make her gift obey her once. Now she was worried about how long it would take until it decided to let her use itself once more. The leader of the Cullens had reminded her that the gift couldn't control her, but she doubted his words. Her invisibility almost had a mind of its own. It could have been her imagination making her think that way, but despite her pondering, she couldn't shake off the idea of it being somehow an independent entity from her. How could she know what was true? Was her power a living creature, or was her mind subconsciously stopping itself from using it?

Her body sat against the couch as it devoured her legs inside. She watched the flashing TV. It was turned on on a channel unknown to her. Some type of show was currently broadcast on its screen. She couldn't wrap her head around it. Her head tilted. Why would that blond girl, Hannah, want to disguise herself and not reveal she was a pop star? It would be cool to be famous. If Hannah did not want to tell her secret identity to the world, the newborn was more than ready to take her place and let the humans know about her great singing skills—she wasn't that great of a singer, but her new vampire voice could probably take the high notes. She hadn't tested it but felt sure of herself.

She had been with the yellow-eyes for a full week. It was terrifying to think about. Her brain couldn't seem to accept the fact.

Emmett chuckled next to her. He had come to watch the weird show with her.

She wasn't too fond of the fact, but had decided to still stay on the couch. She didn't want to leave it yet. It was so heavenly to sit on. And beside, she had felt a bit better and safer around the Cullens after her short sobbing session with Carlisle. The anxiety inside of her had elevated slightly, causing her to feel calmer and less ready to bolt.

"This is a dumb show! Teenagers these days rot their brains while watching things like these." The muscular boy rolled his eyes, amused by the show.

The young teen stayed silent. She felt better but did not still want to talk with the yellow-eyes much, except maybe with the patriarch of the coven. He had warmed in her mind the last two days while they had worked to figure out how to use her gift. He felt safer. She did not, however, trust him yet.

"Oh! Wait…You're a teenager?" Emmett gasped, his gaze flying to her like he would have forgotten she was in the room.

She truly hoped he was joking. There was no way he would have forgotten she was a teenager, right? Vampires had a great memory, so there wasn't a reason why he would not have known she was a teenager. Was he okay? She eyed him. He did not seem to be the brightest of the Cullens. It could explain his odd behaviour.

The television went on a monetization break as it prepared to start another show. The screen changed to talk about the new phones on the market. The electronic's annoying static noise increased a notch.

The muscular vampire turned all of his attention to Bree. He started chuckling again. "So, Bree bee, what did you think about the episode? Did you like it?" He smirked. "Or was it brain-rotting to watch like I said?"

The way his brain worked was beyond the newborn's brain capacity. She frowned, not knowing what to answer. The show was idiotic. She didn't like it, but at least it seemed somewhat entertaining. "Umm…"

"It was ridiculous." A voice answered.

An hiss left the teen's rose-coloured lips. She jumped out of her seat and turned around. Her crimson eyes saw the mind reader's form. She had not seen him much around. His foreign scent hovered in the room's air, infiltrating it with its toxic smell. Ruining the balance of the familiar scents.

"Excuse me?" Edward interrupted her rudely. He did not seem to apprentice her inner monologue, but she didn't care. He didn't really even live in the house, or at least had not been much around.

She wasn't used to the mind reader's presence. To be honest, she was surprised to find him here and not at the human's house. The yellow-eyes' pet was, for some unknown reason, interesting to him. Could it be the pink mammal's gift? Was she a vampire magnet? The young girl pondered the reason for the bronze-haired boy's adventures. Or maybe she was just immensely helpless. The immortals living inside the contemporary house were meddling too much with the humans. They even acted like them. It could be possible that they felt pity for the mammal and had decided to make her their pet.

"Bella is my mate." He snarled, annoyed. "And stop calling her a mammal."

Laughter filled the room as Emmett burst. His dimples popped on his cheeks as he bent over, holding his stomach hysterically. "A mammal? That's-."

"Horrible insult." Edward finished his sentence, imputing his own version of the end of it.

"No dude. That's hilarious!" The muscular vampire chuckled.

"It is not hilarious, Emmett. She is insulting Bella and labelling her as simply 'mammal'. In turn dehumanising her. I have not heard Bree use Bella's name properly in her mind even once! Surely you see the issue." The mind reader insisted, refusing to let go of his stance. His gaze darkened as he focused his eyes on Bree.

The girl tensed as her instincts flared up, telling her to snarl to show she wasn't scared. Her relaxed mood had shifted. It was far gone. Her eyes locked on the bronze-haired boy as she growled. She couldn't let him out of her sight. It would be very dangerous. He could try to attack her, like Jasper had done.

Panic slithered inside of her, its strong grip taking her and pulling her under its control.

She didn't want to be in the living room anymore. She wanted to go back to her room—to her cotton-like bed. Lay there in a small foetal position and be alone, away from the lurking beast in the living room.

Edward's irritated amber eyes rolled to his skull. "Stop being so paranoid! Not everything is a sign that you are going to get attacked."

"You have tried to kill me multiple times!" Bree hissed defensively. She wasn't going to believe the yellow-eyes lies, not when they were clearly not true. They had tried to take her life on multiple occasions. Jasper had even almost detached her head from the rest of her body. None of the experiences had been nice. She was not about to continue letting them happen.

"You're being a moron. We have not attempted to kill you. Believe it or not, Jasper was not trying to 'take your life'. He wanted to scare you. Make you obey," the mind reader sighed. He stared at her, fed up, pushing his fingers through his bronze hair.

The newborn snarled.

"Chill, bee! We don't want to hurt you. Esme and Carlisle said you weren't completely okay, but you can't be this paranoid." Emmett chipped in. His face wore a concerned look. The young girl had not seen the expression on his face yet. It was strange to see a new emotion in the boy, who usually mostly joked, but on the other hand, she had not lived with the Cullens for more than a week. She was being dumb by thinking the hulk-like vampire could only be comedic relief in situations. No one was that one-dimensional.

The teen glared at the two yellow-eyes.

Her head flipped towards the arch leading to the living room as her ears picked up rapid footsteps. They were approaching the room fast, the cling of heels against wood blaring in the hallway. She had learned the individual sounds of Cullen's footsteps. She was able to distinguish the coming intruder. She didn't want her here.

Esme appeared at the archway with a dash, her soft locks dropping to her shoulders. Gaze stern, she eyed all three of the vampires in the room.

The room fell quiet. It was like everything had stopped daring to move when she arrived. The effect would have been hilarious if Bree herself hadn't been in the living room.

She bit her lips, feeling anxiousness rise in her chest for completely another reason than the worry of getting killed. She was afraid. If her vampire body could have sweated, she would have been doing so, but tragically, it wasn't possible. Immortals couldn't produce any other bodily fluids than venom. The sweet substance running in her—the destroyer of her human body and the birther of her new vampiric one. She had conflicting feelings about it.

"Edward, do not make Bree spiral any further into her shell. She is at last doing some process," The caramel-haired matriarch commanded. Her voice resonated strongly in the air, not leaving anyone room to argue. She seemed serious.

"But she-."

Esme looked at her coven member. "I will talk about it with her later. For now, don't pester her. She deserves to have a pleasant day. Her mental health is not good. We do not need to make it deteriorate more."

"Fine." The mind reader sighed dramatically. He gave one last death glare at the newborn before exiting the room.

The young teen looked unhappily at the woman. She wasn't mentally unstable. Her mental health was doing marvellously. There was nothing wrong with her. She couldn't have felt better. Her mind was simply careful. Not paranoid. They knew nothing about her struggles. She had every right in the world to distrust the yellow-eyes every move. They could be up to something bad. She knew that. The Cullens, as far as she knew, were still planning on giving her to the Volturi when they would arrive. She was terrified to face the sadistic girl, the one who could make her tumble to the ground in pain. How was she supposed to face her without attempting to escape?

Her mind tried to turn itself to Fre-. No, she couldn't think about the thing. Not when Edward was in the house. She wasn't going to risk exposing her brain to the monster close by.

"Bree?" Esme's voice broke through her mind softly. She turned her attention to the older vampire. The matriarch stared at her, patience plastered on her expression. When the woman realised she had the brown-haired girl's attention, she extended her right hand towards her. "Come with me. I want to spend some time with you."

Bree was ushered into a huge room. The tall windows on its walls let the luminous sun rays in. The floor planks were topped by paint-ridden dust sheets. Their heavy stench saturated the air, causing the area to smell like dye. The furniture was minimal. A couple of dark shelves were placed in the room's corners. They were stuffed with painting supplies, looking ready to break apart from the weight of the items. Small notches covered them as black paint tried desperately to hang on to the old wood.

The newborn's steps stopped. She looked hesitantly around, feeling out of place in the huge room. It was staggering how big the Cullen house was. Every time she thought she had seen the whole house, she found out there was yet another room. It was unnerving. She hoped this would be the last new room she laid her eyes on.

Esme walked up to the shelves. Her hands caressed the painting supplies happily as she turned to stare at the younger vampire. "Have you painted before?"

The young teen nodded cautiously. How could she forget the horrible stick people she had painted in school's art class? They were ugly enough to create nightmares for those who saw them. She was definitely not meant to be an artist. As a matter of fact, it was not the wisest choice to put her in front of a canvas. She would just ruin it. Make it look like it was full of rotten lines. Most of the time, the lines weren't even straight. It was an accomplishment in itself that her lines genuinely looked rotten, but atrocious bending 'lines' added cherry on top of the already disgusting art pieces.

"That's lovely! I thought that we could paint together," the caramel-haired woman suggested softly. Her amber eyes warmed from excitement and friendliness.

"I don't know…" The girl studied the old shelves reluctantly. "It might not be the smartest idea. I'm not that great at it."

Esme tilted her head sympathetically. "There is no right way to paint; therefore, no one can possibly be bad at it." The matriarch gave her an encouraging smile. "And besides, I have seen a lot of different styles of painting. Nothing can surprise me."

Her words did not give Bree more confidence. She wanted to scream at the yellow-eye. Explain how horrible her former paintings were. She was a lost cause. There was no point in trying to teach her the world of painting. She did not belong there. Her brushes were always too stiff and bulky. Lines like noodles accompanied them, always ruining her art pieces. There was no saving her.

She eyed her surroundings, wanting to leave the strongly scented room. To her dismay, the caramel-haired woman started taking painting supplies off the shelves. She had to leave while she still could. Or should she? Would it be dangerous to disobey the yellow-eye's request? She didn't know what would happen if she decided to leave. Esme could get mad at her and hurt her.

The vampire in question returned to the newborn. Her pale hands were full of supplies needed to paint. She handed a delicate paintbrush to her, her lips forming a new bright smile.

The teen could have snapped the brush in half, but she didn't follow her urge to do so. She didn't want to be rude, even if she despised what she was about to do. "Do I have to paint?"

"We don't need to do it for long. I only want to spend some time with you, and besides, painting could help to lift your mood. Perhaps even relax you." Her hope to not touch the canvas shattered before her eyes at the caramel-haired matriarch's words. She was doomed.

Esme looked at her reassuringly. "I'll help you."

Bree sighed, her gaze touching the brush in her hand. Its expensive-looking fur neatly shined in its place. Her crimson jumped to the woman as she prepared to face the horror of the white canvas. "Are you sure we can't draw instead?" Her brown eyebrows rose, hopefully.

"Yes, I'm sure." The older vampire answered. She walked once again to get things from the shaky-looking shelves. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor. "But I'd be happy to give you drawing supplies if you want."

The girl's muscles stiffened. She certainly didn't want that to happen. She had only proposed drawing because it was more bearable than painting. She did not like it either. She wasn't much of an artist. Reading was more relaxing. The smell and rustling of pages were comforting in their own way. They brought her to a fantasy world where she could escape her problems. Whereas drawing and painting were just stressful. There was nothing fun about either of those activities. Both were as boring as watching sporting events.

In a blink of an eye, a canvas was tossed in front of her. Its treading empty surface, staring at her, daring her to smudge it.

"There we go," Esme said. Her voice brightened the dull-turning atmosphere.

The young teen studied the white canvas distrustfully. She touched it gently, snapping her head towards the woman. She wasn't too glad to realise the vampire was opening the paint buckets. Their scent thrust into the room stronger than ever.

Flaring her nostrils, the teen glared. She didn't like the smell at all. Paint had always smelled too strong and strange to her. There was something revolting in its aroma. She didn't know what, though.

As soon as the scent had filled the air, a paint palette was placed in front of the newborn. She glanced at it, hesitating to dip her brush into the numerous wet spots of paint.

"What would you like to paint?" the matriarch asked.

The question stunned Bree for two seconds. She blinked. "I- I don't know."

"Is there something that means a lot to you? Or perhaps you want to paint something simple?"

The young vampire frowned. She still had no intention to reveal her deepest darkest secrets. As she thought about what to do with the paintbrush, she let her hands fall to her sides. They had been at her chest's height for a while now, holding the brush in the air like it would have been some type of disgusting slug.

She hated slugs.

Her mind was empty. Its machine-like wheels were completely still. Their silence was louder than anything else in her head. She was in trouble. How could her mind not help her? Did she have to paint one of those suns the kids tended to make? Was it how her filled canvas was going to look, like a wobbly sun with noodle lines as rays? No, she would humiliate herself with that. She couldn't paint the image coming to her brain. It was too horrendous.

But what else could she make? The sooner she painted something, the better. She could leave the room after and go to her room's peace until the doctor returned from the hospital. She couldn't believe how calmly he had told her he was a doctor. The interaction still created shudders in her back.

"I will draw a sun." She sighed submissively, raising her paintbrush towards the yellow paint.

The sky turned orange as she finished her ugly painting. It had taken her an hour to make it. She was in awe, but not of the painting itself. After all, it was just a circle with lines coming from it. She was in awe because of how long it had taken to paint it. You'd think making a circle and lines would take a minute or even less, but apparently not.

She had acted ridiculously while brushing the canvas, trying everything in her power to not leave her sun looking like rotting nuclear waste, but it had all been for nothing. Just like she had guessed. The yellow sun made her want to vomit. She wanted to break the canvas and hide it from the curious eyes of the amber-eyed Cullen watching her. Regret washed over her. She should have left the room and refused to paint; instead, she had been dumb and, in turn, had to look at the astonishingly ugly thing in front of her. Her…creation.

Her hands almost went over for the black paint to add a smiley face to it. It wouldn't change how horrible it looked, but at least the sun would seem happier if she did so.

"That's beautiful!" Esme's voice exclaimed from behind.

The newborn felt the need to roll her eyes. Sure, she thought sarcastically. Her painting was truly a masterpiece. Maybe the other vampire had lost her mind while watching her brush swipe on the canvas. It would be a new record for her, making someone go crazy.

It was pleasurable to finally be sarcastic. She had not done so since arriving with Seattle's newborn army to destroy the yellow-eyes. She had neither had time nor been in the right mindset to do so. It was a relief to release her withheld sarcasm. Week wasn't a long time ratio, but yet it still felt like forever since her last thought involving sarcasm.

She smiled as she got hit with the realisation of how she felt a bit more herself and less paranoid. Maybe the painting had truly helped to lift her mood. She had not expected it. In spite of that, she planned to not touch the paintbrush again. It was not meant to be held by her pale marble fingers.

She put the cursed thing below the painting. That way, it would stay there to remind her of the anxious job of painting she had just faced.

"I want to go to my room." Bree said, turning to see the matriarch.

"Of course. May I also suggest you go wash yourself? You have a little paint on your clothes and face." A warm expression stretched across Esme's face. "Alice will want you to get changed, but she is not home, so I propose you try to change your clothes before she comes back."

The newborn nodded urgently. She had taken up the habit of avoiding the pixie. She didn't like how freaked out she became by the slight inconvenience regarding clothing. All of the fabrics worn by the others had to be perfect. Neatly put on them, like on dolls. If they weren't, the clothes had to be changed. The smallest and trivial things, like small mud stains, apparently ruined the clothes to no repair.

As the teen moved to leave the room, the caramel-haired vampire spoke, "It was nice to spend time with you. I enjoyed it."