I wrote this a while ago, while bored and coming off my Cullen high, but it needed a lot of editing- so here it is before you. New to 1st-person. And Pack fiction- but it is actually quite fun... Ooh! Tension!
Disclaimer: Me no own Twilight. Or the lyrics (from a Disney song).
Do you believe in Destiny?
No chance, no way, I won't say it, no no.
"This is all wrong!" I scream, before throwing myself to the bed. I want them to hear and get the message but I also hope they don't because they'll definitely decide to invade my privacy. My door is locked, but since when has that stopped them from breaking it down? I need to be alone for a while to get through this, to stop feeling so mad. Because they've got it all wrong. I'm not in love with him.
I'm serious. I'm not. I don't have to be (no matter what anyone says). And furthermore, I don't want to be. We're perfect the way we are, thank you very much. And I don't get why everyone thinks I should be.
It's not like there are such things as soul mates. It's impossible to believe in soul-mates in this day and age, right? I mean, two halves to one whole? Two souls entwined for eternity? Fate decreeing that two people are meant to be joined forever? It's a lovely idea, I suppose, for a fairy-tale (maybe one of those Disney affairs with the magic and dancing and happily ever after). But this is real life. And it isn't one I want for myself. I want a choice in my love.
I'll admit when you see Emily and Sam together- when you stand in the same room as them and see the way they look at each other- it's a little hard not to believe. They may not have the ultra-happy ending (Emily snores and Sam digs up the garden) but it's hard to think of them ever being destined to be with anyone else. But I can manage it. Destiny didn't force them together- they choose each other all on their own. I go through all these situations in my mind of how they met, and none of it involves looking into one another's eyes and knowing they were meant to be, that the other was The One. At first they hated each other- Sam thought she was strong minded and arrogant; Emily though him uncouth and crude and tried so hard to convince her cousin to see it too. Then maybe that bear caught her while she was out in the wilderness- and he saved her. And it just went from there. They fought hard and struggled for the love they share- but that's what makes it so much more rewarding. It makes their love seem so much more real, to me, when I imagine they choose it all on their own.
But that's the thing- love can't be chosen. If it could, they wouldn't have chosen each other. Maybe they struggled against the love that holds them, not for it. But it didn't work, did it? They still managed to be smitten by one another and hurt Leah. Because that's the way love is. It chooses you. And it's merciless in its choosing. You think you're safe and happy inside your world and then- BAM! A bear mauls you and you're falling for your best friend's boyfriend. Or, BAM! You're having cookies and milk with your aunt before bed, and she tells you that you're in love with a guy you've known and cared for as a brother all your life.
Seriously! She just leapt right into it, without giving me warning or a chance to swallow my mouth-full of cookie. "Claire, I think you're in love with him!" she said, in this very serious voice. And I started chocking on some crumbs, which she takes to be a consensus.
And I can't stand it. That she thinks she knows I'm in love with him. That she knows somehow that I was always going to love him, even before I did. That she's trying to force it on me. Maybe a little bit of all three. It isn't fair. I scream this part and it helps a little. I don't care if they hear me. Try to break into my room, I silently dare them. I've got a baseball bat and I'm not afraid to use it. I should be allowed to yell when I'm this upset. It isn't reasonable that anyone should know- be they Fate or just Emily- that I'm in love with him before I do.
Emily doesn't understand why I'm reacting like this. It's reminding me of one of those really annoying songs in Disney (like I'm Ariel in the boat and everyone around me is singing, "Kiss de boy"). She thinks it's wonderful that I'm (supposedly) feeling this way. I thought that she, of all people, would understand why I don't want to love him- why it would ruin everything with him. But she doesn't. When I was trying to explain that she had it wrong, she just started nodding and smiling in an infuriating knowing manner, as if to say, "Oh, you're so adorable when you're in denial". Then she just stopped listening, and began to dance around the kitchen, humming and baking muffins for the boys when they get back from who-knows-where. I mean, it was almost midnight, and Sam still wasn't home. And she was baking muffins? If I were her, I'd get onto that husband of hers for his frequent discrepancies, not rewarding him with baked treats. But the food-making informed me that he was soon to be home (and that is one conversation I don't want to have around him), so I excused myself abruptly.
I groan loudly and roll over onto my front, placing a cushion over my head. But it doesn't work, can't block out the thoughts. Maybe I could scream into it, and it would make it all better?
Yesterday was easier, I think. Yesterday, I could deny this without feeling an awful confusing guilt that comes with it. Yesterday, I could reject the idea and almost believe that I'm not in love with him. If I could have convinced myself that it's not all meant to be, then maybe it's not, maybe I could have moved on. Maybe it would have been easier to forget. But- not now. Now I can't forget. Emily won't let me.
Not that there's anything to forget, because I'm not in love with him, I remind myself. I almost want to yell this at Emily in the other room, but I don't really want to wake up her kids in the other room. And it sounds as though Sam and the others are home (and drinking and smashing furniture). And I don't really want to mention it. On the off-chance that Emily doesn't. So I don't hurt his feelings. I mean, not that it would because he's definitely not in love with me either.
I mean, sure, he's been terrorising any boy who's ever dared to approach me since I reached puberty. But that's just the way he is. Like a big brother. He'll probably come in and tuck me in, in a minute, the way he always does. Maybe I should unlock the door in case he does. Unless Emily tells him not to, because I'm acting hormonal and grumpy (and lurve-sick). Not that I would mind. I'm too old to be tucked in anyways.
This is starting to sound too much like a denial. But it isn't. I don't need to be in love with him to still love him. My life's already wonderful without the need to ruin it like that. And I don't care that I can hear Emily is out there, telling Quil that she thinks I'm "ready" (which makes me think that maybe I should keep the door locked tonight). I don't know what I'm supposed to be ready for, but I'm not. The fact that I'm locked and freaking out in my room- lying on my bed with a cushion over my head humming to myself in a frenzied way to keep their words (and my own irrational thought) out- pretty much proves that. We're better off as friends- big brother and little sister. Who cares that I'm almost 18 now and don't really need protecting anymore? That's the way it's always been and should always be. And nothing is going to ruin it. Not these ridiculous unwelcome feelings swirling inside me which don't fit with my words. Not Emily's passing fancy that somehow we've always been destined for each other.
How cliché is that story? Boy and Girl grow up together. Girl gets crippling crush on Boy when she hits her teenage years, which affects every word she says to him and leaves Boy confused as to why Girl is blushing every time he approaches her. That's almost as bad as the Destiny crap. Quil isn't a moron like these guys seem to be. And I'm not in love with him. End of that fairy-tale.
Because there is not such thing as soul-mates- just love. And love can exist in so many forms. Our variation of the word is just as important to me as Sam and Emily's is to them, and I can't stand to lose it. So what if I'm beginning to interpret his glances in my direction- the small secret smile, his eyes full of warmth, and the sigh occasionally escaping when he thinks I won't notice- differently? So what if it makes my heart race every time I see his face in the morning? So what if I'm dreading going to college next year, not seeing him or talking to him or just being in his presence- to the point where I'm seriously considering staying at home and becoming a waitress in Forks rather than leaving him (or buying a really big chest and locking him in it, kidnapping him)?
I can't be in love with him. It would ruin everything- everything that I've ever held dear. Because love isn't 'meant to be', and it doesn't last forever. Because he can't feel the same way- because I can remember throwing up into a bucket beside him when I was a kid, and you can't love that girl whose nose you used to wipe or who you had to frown at (while struggling not to laugh) when she threw glue at another kid in Kindergarten. And even if he can ever care about me in that way, he's probably close to 30 years old (although he sure doesn't look it) and it couldn't last. So, what, I'll trade in my more-than-friendship with him for something cheaper just so that I have a chance to stay with him for a few extra months, before we split due to his lack of interest in a kid like me, and destroy our relationship forever? No, thank you.
Or maybe the thing that he's keeping from me (whatever it is, and I know there is something) will be the one to break it all- maybe it'll just be too much for me to handle and it'll rip apart this love. Which ever kind of love I feel for him now. I'm not sure any more and it feels like defeat to say that.
(This is what honesty does to you.)
I hear a knocking on the door- loud enough to penetrate my erratic pattern of thoughts and the pillow over my head, so it's got to be his. I sigh and get up, not wanting him to knock down the door and hoping that maybe seeing his face will make this all so much clearer -will repulse me and help me to realise that I'm not in love with him and Emily's just being foolish, and everyone's just being foolish and I'm just being foolish.
Or maybe it'll tell me that none of it matters at all, that I'm only afraid to admit I'm in love with him because I'm scared I've fallen into Fate's malicious pit-fall trap, and I can't escape from it- that I've been putting it aside and wasting time without him when it's always meant to be.
I try to tell myself that it's ridiculous, but as I unlock the door and open it quietly, trying to keep this nonchalant, slightly annoyed expression on my face (and probably failing entirely), I can't help but question it. Would it be so bad, if I was in love with him? Is it really so hard to believe he feels the same?
And- cue patronising head-pat. Yes. Yes, it is. Damn it.
Well, at least out loud, I won't say I'm in love.
(More to come. I think. I'm not sure what or when yet. Review if you like)