Author: gemini13me PM
Love, hate, jealousy, passion, drama, angst. A story of two young people finding true love. But there is a price. Will it be worth it?Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 39 - Words: 220,963 - Reviews: 509 - Favs: 334 - Follows: 252 - Updated: 07-20-11 - Published: 07-25-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6176144
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N This is my first fic. This story has some drama in it and it also touches subjects like drugs, death and sex. You might not like this Edward in the beginning. He's cocky, conceited and an asshole, but give him a chance. He will redeem himself. My Edward has a strong personality and so does my Bella.
There will be hate, there will be anger, there will be passion, there will be love. Sparks will fly.
I hope you enjoy it.
Love, hate, jealousy, passion, drama, angst. A story of two young people, finding true love. But, there is a price. Will it be worth it?
I sat in the passenger seat of Charlie's cruiser, watching in a trance as the trees flew by my window in a blur, melting in a sea of green.
Green, green, green. It seemed that everywhere I looked, I could only see one fucking color.
Vomit inducing green.
I was already starting to hate this town. Who in their right state of mind would come to live in such a place willingly?
Oh yeah... me.
It's better than Phoenix, I thought to myself. Right now, any place in the world was better than Phoenix. Well, not exactly any place, because there was one city, across the ocean, I dreaded more. One famous, beautiful, romantic city that was every tourist's dream; but brought so much drama into my life.
A city located in one of Europe's largest metropolitan areas. A place of world importance due to its business, historical, intellectual, diplomatic, religious, educational and artistic legacy.
The ideal place for romanticism, known for its bohemian cafés, where couples go to enjoy the exclusive atmosphere and share their love through whispered sweet nothings, while holding hands over the small, intimate, candlelit tables.
The most beautiful symphony of culture, tradition, customs and modern lifestyle, coming together in harmony, like the missing pieces of a puzzle.
A world where time stops as soon as you step in.
Where the average tourist visiting on a nice, warm spring day, would see the great boulevards and the impressive monuments adorning them; I would stumble across narrow, dark streets, in my new shiny Prada shoes, accompanied by shady characters.
Instead of the small, cozy, chic pubs, with an unique flavor, I would constantly find myself in pretentious night clubs, surrounded by obnoxious, rich men and shameless, wanton women.
The usual walk in the park with friends, enjoying nature, relaxing and having fun, would be replaced by restless nights in bad company and exhausting days in which the hours were filled with heavy drinking, drugs and sex.
A place called by many, 'The city of lights'. For me though, it brought so much darkness into my life.
My own personal palette of color dichotomy, where vibrant, playful tones, mingled erratically with lifeless shades of gray and black.
The one place in the world I would never forget.
My personal hell.
And on the other side, there was Phoenix.
Another forbidden pleasure.
It was home… and I was not welcomed there anymore.
After a little over four months of living there, I couldn't stand Renee's reproachful glares and Phil's yelling anymore, so I decided to leave. As soon as possible.
They hated me now. Everybody hated me and I couldn't blame them at all.
I hated me.
Just last night, before I went to bed, I overheard (it was actually hard not to hear them, with him practically screaming) Renee and Phil fighting because of me. Again.
"I can't wait to have her out of my house! That girl is like the bubonic plague. Everything she touches, gets infected," Phil shouted angrily, the sound of glass shattering, echoing through the otherwise silent house.
There goes another whiskey glass…
Mom sobbed. "God... I know she has made mistakes Phil, but she's my daughter and I can't turn my back on her."
"Mistakes? !" Phil yelled. "Mistakes, Renee? A mistake is when you forget to do your homework, when you skip class or when you start smoking. A mistake is when you get into a fight at school. These are mistakes normal teenagers do. What she did is... insanity. I'm fucking happy she is leaving on her own, because I don't know if I could have handled to see her face everyday, anymore. Maybe her father can bring her to her senses. I can't wait to have her out of my house!"
I couldn't listen anymore because I knew he was right. Everything he ever said to me, or about me, was true. I was a horrible person and I deserved to die and rot in hell.
I closed the door to my room and sank to the floor, starting to cry hysterically.
My God, what have I done?
A brutal, excruciating vision suddenly flooded my brain and I closed my eyes tightly, desperately wanting to make it go away.
I was in that room again. I was laughing madly as I advanced into the darkness. And then there was blood… so much blood staining the royal blue carpet, the form lying on the floor barely recognizable. My body shook in fear. My mouth opened and the most awful sound escaped my lips. My legs gave out at the sight in front of me. Then, everything went black.
I tried to shake all the memories from my head. Tears were running down my face and neck, pooling into the hollow of my throat, and I wiped them away quickly with my shirt's sleeve.
Next to me, Charlie was silent.
I knew he blamed me as well.
Ten minutes later, the car stopped in front of an old two story house, the same one I remembered from my childhood. I hadn't been here since I was twelve, when I last came to spend Christmas with Charlie.
Charlie climbed out of the car and I followed. He tossed me the keys to the house, telling me to unlock the front door as he took out my luggage from his car's trunk.
The interior of the house looked exactly the same as five years ago, except for a large plasma TV that lay in the small living room. Also, the walls weren't white anymore, but a strange maroon color.
"You know where your room is," Charlie said as he dropped my three large, black Dior bags in the foyer with a thud.
"Damn, these are heavy," he grumbled under his breath. He looked around for a moment as if searching for something, then scratched his head. "Yeah, well... let's get you settled in." He jerked his head towards the stairs. "I'll follow you with these massive things."
I climbed the stairs with Charlie right behind me, made a left in the narrow hallway, and opened the second door on the right, which I knew was my old room. The first door was a small bathroom, and on the other side of the hallway, there was another bedroom which was Charlie's.
I stepped inside and took in the surroundings. Like the rest of the house, this small bedroom looked exactly the same as I'd left it years ago.
There was a bed with purple sheets, a desk and a chair, a brown couch and a dresser. No paintings, no photos, no Barbies or any other toys, nothing that could have indicated this had once been the room of a little girl.
I sighed heavily and turned around to face Charlie, who was putting my stuff in a corner.
"Well, I'll let you make yourself comfortable, Bells. I'll be downstairs if you need me." He looked at me for a moment, like he contemplated whether to say or do something else, then turned on his heel and stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
The good thing about Charlie?
He doesn't hover.
I plopped down on the old bed, that moaned under my weight, and closed my eyes with another sigh. I wondered if I should call Mom to let her know I arrived, but I was willing to bet Charlie was talking to her right this moment.
I'll call her later, I thought to myself.
My parents divorced when I was seven. Charlie stayed in Forks. Mom was granted custody and we moved to Phoenix shortly after that, where she met Phil. One year later they were married in a big, fancy ceremony.
Phil Dwyer was a very wealthy and respected business man, who was about twenty years older than Renee, which in my opinion was gross, but I knew my mom had married him mainly for his money.
She had always liked money a little too much. She loved to spend absurd amounts of money on clothes and jewelry, even though she never worked a day in her life. Poor Charlie couldn't afford Renee's extravagances from his modest salary, and that was a constant reason to fight.
Marrying Phil was like winning the lottery. Literally. He threw money left and right, lavishing her in luxury.
Then, when she became bored with her life and everything she had, Renee decided she wanted to reach the peak of aristocracy by sending her only child to study in Europe. That's how I found myself in France at the age of thirteen.
The result? I ended up like her.
Renee's sister, Renata, (I know... fucking stupid to name your daughters Renee and Renata) was married to a rich French guy named Felix, and they also had a daughter my age; my cousin Victoria, or Vicky, as we all called her. So, I was sent to Paris to live with them and go to school there. That's where I spent my last four years.
I know what you all think. Wow, studying in Paris must be like the most amazing thing ever. Living with your rich relatives, who catered to your every desire, must have been pretty fucking nice, right?
Well, that's what I thought at first. I thought Paris was going to be like Heaven, but instead it turned out to be my own personal Hell.
I never wanted to return to that city again. That place destroyed my life, haunted my dreams at night and every waking hour during the day.
As an American author once said: "The last time I see Paris will be on the day I die. The city was inexhaustible, and so is its memory."
This is my life.
What a big, fucked-up cliché.
A/N What do you think? Did I pique your interest? Should I continue?