Author's Note:
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, and they are the intellectual property of Stephanie Meyers. Also, I do not condone her appropriation of the Quillayute or Quileute tribe. Please, consider researching their initiative to move to higher ground due to their current reservation being in a critical tsunami zone at mthg .org*. You can also learn more about the tribe at their website here at quileutenation .org*.
In my story, I will attempt to address their characters and culture with respect and reverence. However, I am always open to hearing about more appropriate ways to represent indigenous nations and people of color.
Additionally, I am seeking a Beta Reader, so please send me a PM if you are interested.
Also, please keep in mind this is my first attempt at writing a story. I welcome constructive criticism and feedback but, please try to be kind. Thank You!
Lastly! The beautiful artwork for the story was created by the incredibly talented little-lynx .tumblr. com *, definitely go check her out, and a HUGE thank you to her for letting me post my story with her art!
*All links need the spaces taken out to work
Today was finally the day. I was escaping. If only I had been able to leave two months ago. But now wasn't the time to think about that, not when I was so close to freedom. I gazed around my childhood bedroom, the pastel pink walls with a huge walk-in closet and a canopy bed. Bookshelves lined with everything from the classics such as Pride & Prejudice and 1984 to Wicked Lovely and The Body Finder. I got up off the bed and walked to the bookcase, running my fingers across their spines. Of everything that I was leaving behind, these were the things I honestly would mourn the loss. I sighed, sometimes one has to pay to escape their seemingly gilded cage. A harsh knock interrupted my thoughts, and my door swung open, revealing my stone-faced Mother, her hair pulled back into a severe yet meticulous bun, the freshly pressed Givenchy dress, and the sleek stilettos the gave her an extra five inches-making her legs appear endlessly long.
"It's time to go," she said in an emotionless monotone before swiftly walking away, quickly shutting the door as if by doing so, she could shut away what had happened. I wish it were that simple. If only I could fold it all away in a box and pretend it had never happened, but that was impossible, especially after what happened last month. I tugged on my cardigan's sleeves, wishing I had time for a trip to the bathroom.
Pushing off the bed, I grabbed my suitcase by the door; I spared one last glance to my prized bookshelf before squaring my shoulders and maneuvering my bulky bag down the spiral staircase. I almost sighed in relief when I reached the first floor. Utilizing the now horizontal surface, I finally got to wheel my beat-up duffel through the front door and out to the brand new white Range Rover, which was idling impatiently. Through the windshield, I could see Renee's fingernails digging into her brand new leather. I rolled to the back of the car and pressed the automatic button raising the trunk door. Grabbing the bottom of the awkward duffel, I attempted to finesse it into the trunk. After about three tries, the bag finally made it into the trunk-it was almost a miracle. I huffed from the exertion as I reached into my cardigan's pocket and fumbled for my inhaler. Shaking it quickly, I popped off the cap and inhaled, holding it in until my lungs burned from the exertion. Slowly I exhaled, before repeating the process.
The passenger window rolled down before a harsh called out, "Come on! I do NOT want you to miss this flight." I righted myself before pulling open the passenger's side door and unceremoniously plopping myself onto the seat. The ride to the airport filled with tense and chilly silence, neither of us had anything to say. Not anymore.
Finally, the Range Rover slid into the drop-off pocket of the Phoenix International Airport.
Renee popped the trunk barely glancing at me, saying, "You can go now." Dismissed, I opened the passenger door and headed to the trunk. I wasn't interested in an emotional goodbye either. I heard the sound of a car pulling up behind me, the engine hummed and I faintly heard to 'pop' of the trunk. I briefly looked behind me to see a teenager around my age hopped out, yelling, "Mom, you worry too much! I will be fine!" She was tan and tall and blonde, everything the normal Arizona teenager should be, not like me. An older blonde woman opened the driver's side and hurried to the trunk to get the luggage.
"What can I say? I am a Mother! I worry!" She grabbed the luggage effortlessly and gracefully set it on the ground before putting her hands on her hips facetiously.
Her daughter replied by rolled her eyes affectionately, "I'll call every day, I promise." The mother drew near smiling before replying, "I know you'll do fabulous at nationals, I only wish I could come." Her face betrayed a deep longing to go with her daughter. The daughter's eyes shone with understanding and love replying, "I know, Mama." They embraced.
I turned away and stared down at my luggage, willing myself not to cry. It wasn't that I longed to be embraced by my own Mother, if she even could be called that. Renee never wanted to be a Mother and it showed. Growing up she was more invested in her looks and prospective suitors than me but, living with my father was never an option. Then as I grew older she began to act as though we were in competition with each other, something she felt was confirmed by what happened. What I longed for when I saw them embraced was my father, burly and tall that always smelled like the woods and gun powder. The one who taught me how to fish and lifted me onto his shoulders so I could have the best view of the fireworks show. Gripping the handle of my suitcase with renewed vigor, I walked away from curb and into the Baggage Claim area. The airport was a cacophony of sounds, with the overhead speaker blaring announcing the flights that were leaving or random people missing somewhere in this crazy maze. Parents with small children raced past in a blur attempting to make their flight. TSA guards milled about keeping a watchful eye on everyone.
I searched for the directory, finding one in the middle of the enormous Baggage Claim area. I walked towards it, weaving through the crowd and trying not to step on anyone's toes. When I finally reached the directory, I scanned to see from which Gate my flight was departing. Finally, I found Seattle located a Gate B10; unfortunately this wasn't particularly helpful to me as I had no idea where the B Gates were. I searched the directory for the 'You're Here' image only to come up blank. I huffed in annoyance as I looked around, willing Gate B into existence. Suddenly, I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around to see a kind-looking elderly woman wearing a bright pink Arizona t-shirt and some tan culottes and pink flip-flops. She smiled widely asking, ""Are you lost, hun?" Slightly stunned by her question, I couldn't help but to blush and nod.
She nodded in an understanding way saying, "That's okay. I get lost in here all the time. Where are you headed? What is your Gate?"
" I am headed to Seattle. I'm at Gate B10?" I replied however, it came out as more of a question.
Her smile grew, "Well, what do you know? I am headed there too. Let's go together?" Without waiting for a response she lopped her arm around mine and pulled me along towards the screening area. Once we were done with the monotonous and redundant screening was done, we sat as she waited for me to retie my sneakers.
She looked at me and said, " I used to wear sneakers, but taking them on and off was such a chore" she smiled, "So what brings you to Seattle, dear?"
I smiled back as I finished my last knot, "I am going to live with my Dad." Warmth filled my chest as I thought about the fact that soon I would be back home and safe. "What about you?" I asked as I helped her back to her feet.
She smiled back appreciatively at my help, "Oh, I am just returning home from visiting my son and grandchildren, triplets! They just turned five, so I had to come for their birthday." I couldn't help but feel my stomach churn as she talked about her grandchildren's birthday. Instead I focused on the feeling of the rubber handle in my hand as I pulled it behind me.
Refocusing on the conversation "It is wonderful that you were able to visit. Did your family do anything fun for their birthday?" She began to excitedly recount the birthday extravaganza while we walked towards our Gate. The conversation settled into a comfortable rhythm of her telling me about her grandchildren and me smiling and nodding along. Once we arrived at our Gate we had some time so we decided to sit and chat.
"We will now begin boarding Group A," the flight attendant called out. As we both moved to get up, the woman turned towards me as if realizing something, "Oh, I forgot to even introduce myself! My name is Mary. It is very nice to meet you, dear."
I chuckled and smiled, "My name is Bella, and it is very nice to meet you. Where are you sitting?"
Mary looked at her phone, "Looks like I am in row E seat 12. What about you?" I pulled out my phone, opening up my Southwest App, I tapped the flight revealing my seat information reading it aloud, "It seems I am in row E seat 11, looks like we are going to be buddies." We smiled at each other.
"Seems as though we were meant to meet Bella."
I smiled in return, replying, "It appears to be serendipity Mary." We spent the rest of the flight with her telling me about her life and family and with me attempting to avoid questions about mine subtly. Eventually, Mary seemed to get the hint and lead the conversation towards safer and more surface-level topics. I found out that she owned a small bookstore in Olympia and that she had a Golden Retriever named Jessie who was a permanent fixture at the store. Once she found out how much I loved books she pulled out her business card and told me to stop by her shop so we could have tea together told me about her boyfriend, who she met on eHarmony, and how wonderful he was.
Then proceeded to give me advice about what I should look for in a significant other and red flags to be on the look out for. I inwardly grimaced at the idea of dating, who would want me now. However, I couldn't help but soak-up every word with rapt attention as my heart whispered, 'there could be someone, someone could love you.'Before I even knew it, the intercom dinged and the captain's voice calling, "This is your Captain speaking, we are beginning our final descent please put your seats into the upright position and return your trays to their original position. I smiled, I was finally coming home and this time it was for good.