Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. I think next chapter will be from Alice's POV, let me know what you think about that.
Her music is too loud. So loud that it's not a distraction anymore, just a buzzing. Constant. But the key changes annoy her - the pattern of them doesn't make sense. So loud, so loud, so loud - she can't hear a word the singer is saying.
A girl walks past, pretty, blonde, delicious -
No- stop. Don't.
Oh, but Isabella, dearest, she'd taste so good.
"Jake," she forces out, gasps, pleads. His attention is on her immediately. Dark brows and clenched jaws survey her face, take in the void of her eyes.
Rolling his shoulders, he sighs. It's hard for him to be around her while she's hungry. She watches his teeth inch forward, watches his muscles start to bulge. He attempts to stifle them. "I wish you'd have skipped today to go hunting."
Fire, fire, fire, drowning. Red. Keep it together, Isabella.
A teacher walks past. They both stiffen. Both for different reasons. "Terribly sorry. Don't be too mad." Hurts to talk. She can't think. Music too loud. There are no words.
"Ground yourself."
She tries. Looks at the clock in the cafeteria. 12:30. Blinks, holds her breath. 12:45. "I had a cat once." Garbled song sing words - they sound of flint and fire but she's never known anything different. "Sunshine - I loved her. I lost her."
"Cats don't like me." Jake laughs quick, happier, he's relaxing. I should, too.
"Yeah, well, I don't like you either." A joke. They both know it.
With a smile, he tsks. "Y'all crazy cat people don't know any better."
Forcing a smile. "You know I uh - " She pauses, loses her train of thought as a particularly good smelling boy crosses by her table. Bronze tousled hair, veiny arms. "I really just want to die."
"Not funny." He glares at her, standing, pushing his chair in. "Anyway, I'll see you next class period."
Shaking, blinking, she nods. "Okay, see you in sixth." Alone, again.
Isabella gathers her things. Loneliness will always be the monster that greets her.
She sees a couple hold hands, kiss.
Always.
/
Nobody sits next to her. Not even if they are assigned. They move to the ends of tables - they'd much rather stick out into the isle than sit next to her.
She doesn't blame them, for the most part. She's molded herself into a thing of cruelty, into a thing to fear. She is death and they flock to shelter like animals would, like animals should.
No, she doesn't blame them but - as a new boy is introduced to the class, as he sees the only seat available is next to her, he goes to the other side of the room to plant himself down at the end of an overstocked table - she's upset, slightly.
She wasn't even scowling this time.
She's ignored. The teacher flushes (in fear? In arousement?) when he looks at her. She's never sure.
Her and Jake only have one class period together, so she's stuck in agonizing repetition for the first few hours.
Today, at least, had something interesting to provide - something different. She heard about it from the mouths of teenage boys, mouths talking too fast for their brains.
"Tryouts are today! I might try again, I have a feeling this year, you know?"
Basketball. Forks High is well known in the town for its basketball.
Isabella has been to many games in her life - she'd be happy to explain to everybody who gushed that it was a basketball team full of teenage boys. Nothing special.
Maybe she doesn't understand.
"Oh man, you think we're going to come home with a trophy this year?"
"Hell yeah!" A boy. (A man?) Large, burly, loud. His name is Emmett and he's a dark haired prince charming who is the brother to four others. He and his brothers play for Forks High.
She doesn't understand.
She listens with bittersweet sadness - the kind that reaches out and stabs her lungs, but brings a teary eyed smile to her face.
She wishes she could remember what it was like to be happy - to be human.
Sighs, turns away. The lesson drones on, correcting the teacher's mistakes in her head.
The devil waves to her from the window.
Her mouth rots with heat.
/
She ends up leaving early that day, with a text sent to Jake that reads as "sorry!"
He'll understand, he just worries.
/
An endless eternity, colors swirl and smear into a kaleidoscope of death and fire.
High off of blood but - the deer Isabella had killed was young, full of life.
But he tastes so good.
… Stop
"Thank you." Isabella bends down, smooths the fur over the large laceration in his neck. Her fangs go back up into her gums. "I'm so sorry."
She stumbles through the woods, feels the blood drip, drip, drip, off of her hands and,
She falls, through the ground, through the dirt and moss and grass and stone, through the earth. Falls hard and fast and when she opens her eyes next she can see the stars.
Her hands stick to the blood painted grass blades as she tries to pull herself up.
Atlas is her companion when she walks her way home, weight of the world on her shoulders. Weight of her own world, weight of the blood and murder and death, and death, and death.
She sees the devil on the edge of the tree line - his smile wide and large, too large, too white, too sharp. He waves. His laugh makes her head shake.
/
"Hey," Jake yawns when she walks in, throws her shoes off. "You were out late."
Isabella bites her tongue to prevent herself from telling him that she fainted in the woods.
"I'm sorry - you know how I get sometimes." She isn't really sure what that means, so she's sure he's confused too.
He shrugs anyway. "I had hamburgers for dinner."
"Yeah," Isabella snorts. "You've had them for three nights in a row. Have you ever considered trying to eat like, I don't know, a salad?"
Scoffs. "Rabbit food." And then, "Ooh, rabbit. That sounds good. Do you think Forks has rabbit meat for sale anywhere?"
When she doesn't answer he goes on. "I could make rabbit hamburgers with it."
"Oh god. I would kick you out."
"You could have a rare patty, slurp up the blood."
"I'd rather die. Thanks, though.
Yawns again. "I'm heading to bed, you ass."
Panic starts to set in deep in her chest. "Oh, ok. Sleep well."
He pauses his stretching when he hears the shaking in her voice. "Are you ok?"
"Yes." It's not believable, but maybe she meant to sound unsure, maybe she wanted the attention, maybe she's tired of being alone, listening to the moon mock her.
" I can stay up." It's 2:30 in the morning, he had stayed up for her, and still school is in a few hours.
"No," pinches her nose, places her elbows on the counter. "No, that's ok. I'll be better tomorrow. I'm just … tired." She hopes Jake knows what she means.
A pause, pause, pause. Then, large arms wrap around her in a hug. "I love you. Tomorrow is Friday, maybe we can do something? Go see a movie?"
"Yeah," Isabella pats his huge, burning hot hand. "I'd like to do that.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sleep well."
/
They don't go see a movie.
There are periods of times where Jacob is called to duty, and he's forced to stay on his side of the treaty line for a few days, maybe a few weeks.
School is arduous without him and his bright smiles and low, happy laugh - carefree shoulders and sarcastic brows. Loneliness closes in on her, pressing against her lungs. It makes everything a little harder to breathe. 1898 beats against her bones, reminding her of the hundreds of years she's walked the earth alone.
How pathetic, she snarls to herself. The devil crafted you himself, I cannot believe you're so dependent on a dog.
But, there is some relief.
Some days, Isabella drives to the treaty line. She finds Jake there waiting with a smile and a chess set.
"So, how was school today?" He moves his knight in front of one of her pawns.
"Awful." She captures one of his rooks. His pout is instant, and the furrow of his eyebrow makes an appearance as he tries to figure out his best option for this game. "Mike asked out one of the Cullens today for prom."
Picking up a bishop, he winces in sympathy. "Yikes, which one? How did it go?"
"Rosalie. And," she sighs, calculating how to move her knight across the board to capture his queen. "It went as expected. He asked during English. She didn't even look up to tell him no."
She takes his queen.
"Ugh! Bella!"
She shrugs. "Jessica Stanley was rather upset about it, I'd heard her talking all about it today in Anatomy."
"Jessica Stanley?"
"The one with the curly hair, really likes Dirty Dancing. She actually did her Junior research paper about it, did you know?"
"Ohh," He uses one of his pawns to attack her rook. "Anything else?"
"You missed the first day of tryouts."
He accidentally makes an opening for his king, five moves away. She thinks she'll let him win this time, though. "I'm not worried about it." He smirks. "Coach already said I'm on the team."
She's going to take his king in three moves instead.
"Do you think we can go to college this next year?" It's asked timidly, as if unsure about how Isabella will respond.
Guilt hits her like a freight train. Of course Jacob wants to go to college. He's never been. He's nineteen and hasn't had his first kiss yet. He's been stuck with her. She opens up her king, lets Jake take it with a pawn.
/
Blood is dripping out of her arms, her mouth, her eyes. She dies for the third time that night, when she walks into an empty house. She dies for the third time and she is always seventeen.