Behind Closed Doors
Summary: I can't believe that she can bear to do this to me, every single day. No relief comes, but I can't bring myself to end it. I need help.
Elaboration: Edward and Alice are brother and sister. Edward is the child that everyone loves to hate, and his sister is the only one that he will let himself trust. Bella and Emmett Swan, and Jasper and Rosalie Hale are the only friends he has, and the only reason he keeps on living. Classic abuse story and not much fluff. All human. Major Out Of Character Moments.
1. reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.
2. confident expectation of something; hope.
3. confidence in the certainty of future payment for property or goods received; credit: to sell merchandise on trust.
4. a person on whom or thing on which one relies: God is my trust.
5. the condition of one to whom something has been entrusted.
6. the obligation or responsibility imposed on a person in whom confidence or authority is placed: a position of trust.
7. charge, custody, or care: to leave valuables in someone's trust.
8. something committed or entrusted to one's care for use or safekeeping, as an office, duty, or the like; responsibility; charge.
Trust is an amazing thing. When built properly, it is like the strongest house, yet as easily as one made of straw, it can be blown away in seconds. Trust is something that can take years to build, or only seconds, and each new development is unlike the last; unique in a subtle way. Trust is not a possession as such; you cannot sell it, buy it, and handle it. But as with all possessions, it can be coveted.
1. the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best: to give up hope.
2. a particular instance of this feeling: the hope of winning.
3. grounds for this feeling in a particular instance: There is little or no hope of his recovery.
4. a person or thing in which expectations are centered: The medicine was her last hope.
5. something that is hoped for: Her forgiveness is my constant hope.
6. to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence.
7. to believe, desire, or trust: I hope that my work will be satisfactory.
8. to feel that something desired may happen: We hope for an early spring.
9. Archaic. to place trust; rely (usually fol. by in).
10. hope against hope, to continue to hope, although the outlook does not warrant it.
Hope. What a complex and confusing emotion. It is much like a seed, which falls into the driest desert, burying itself deep within the sandy dunes. Many would think it dead and yet, with winter rain, it finds nourishment, and it grows to become one of many plants, to sustain others. Hope can, in the right hands, lead an army; stir feelings in an individual no one thought was possible to possess. Hope was the only recompense for the opening of Pandora's Box. Hope and my next word; Love.
1. a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
3. sexual passion or desire.
4. a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart.
5. (used in direct address as a term of endearment, affection, or the like): Would you like to see a movie, love?
6. a love affair; an intensely amorous incident; amour.
7. sexual intercourse; copulation.
8. (initial capital letter) a personification of sexual affection, as Eros or Cupid.
9. affectionate concern for the well-being of others: the love of one's neighbor.
10. strong predilection, enthusiasm, or liking for anything: her love of books.
11. the object or thing so liked: The theater was her great love.
12. the benevolent affection of God for His creatures, or the reverent affection due from them to God.
13. Chiefly Tennis. a score of zero; nothing.
14. a word formerly used in communications to represent the letter L.
15. to have love or affection for: All her pupils love her.
16. to have a profoundly tender, passionate affection for (another person).
17. to have a strong liking for; take great pleasure in: to love music.
18. to need or require; benefit greatly from: Plants love sunlight.
19. to embrace and kiss (someone), as a lover.
20. to have sexual intercourse with.
21. to have love or affection for another person; be in love.
22. love up, to hug and cuddle: She loves him up every chance she gets.
23. for love,
a. out of affection or liking; for pleasure.
b. without compensation; gratuitously: He took care of the poor for love.
24. for the love of, in consideration of; for the sake of: For the love of mercy, stop that noise.
25. in love, infused with or feeling deep affection or passion: a youth always in love.
26. in love with, feeling deep affection or passion for (a person, idea, occupation, etc.); enamored of: in love with the girl next door; in love with one's work.
And here we have Love. The final of my three, this time. Love is powerful, none can deny it, but it is also very, very difficult to find. Some settle for physical lust, others for a half-met relationship. Others still are lucky enough to have the floating, the happiness, the everything-is-perfect fazes.
And yet, none of these people will have experiences true love. Love that sets your heart pumping miles a minute, and the complete connection with someone on every stage, every level of their being. Few will ever be able to feel that complete soul-bearing experience to the full. And for that, I pity you.
Humanity is suffering, this I know. How shameful a race can we be if we degrade these words, these fantastic, emotive words...Put them into cold, clinical definitions, devoid of life or passion? How does a race seek to better itself, and learn compassion and understanding, when it doesn't allow itself to feel more than words? Without the true meanings of the words, they hold no sway over other kinds.
After the incident with Tanya, Bella stayed at my place. For a long while. Long enough of a time to realize that she and I were, in no less words, perfect for each other and made for each other. I was shocked when she confessed that she had feelings for me too; how this perfect and beautiful creature could love me I'll never know – but she did, and I was content for now, to say the least.
We got married a few years after, when I had courage enough to stutter out the few words that would make her mine forever. It was more of a blushing groom situation, but I was happy, and Bella was happy, despite her teenage aversion to marriage.
And then…then God gave me Renesmee, my daughter. Bella's pregnancy with her had been difficult, so Justin had come to live with us. He was majoring in biological science, so he knew more about this sort of thing than I did and, though I was not happy about it, I was forced to wait on the sidelines for Bella to suffer through something I would die to be able to take away from her.
To say that I was scared of becoming a parent would be the understatement of this still very young century. I was absolutely terrified. So many questions that I would suffer silently with, and yet couldn't talk to anyone about. I refused to talk about them even to Alice, for the sting of betrayal was still enough for me to keep my defenses up around her.
But, when I first saw my daughter, all the worries melted away. It was like I had been injected with a serum that had melted all my fears, anxieties, and general concern. Renesmee was beautiful. Throughout her childhood, I was the doting father, unable to resist his daughter's machinations and her crooked smile, a copy of mine. She had Bella's eyes, though, and my hair color. She was the perfect combination of me and my wife.
The man, worn by grief and age, was still on his bed, the soft beeping being the only sign of dim life, if consequence of a tragic accident that had killed his wife too. How different the lives of the parents and child, and yet their fate was unraveled, their lives taken in the same way.
His daughter, the sole survivor of the crash that had taken five lives, stared blankly at the glass wall that separated her from her father, her brown eyes filling with tears, which she tried to blink away, but couldn't. Fate was cruel, it was true, to lose both of her parents in the same day!
"Come on, Nessie, we should go in before they take him off of the breathing machine; it's the only reason he's being kept alive now." And there was oh-so-sensitive Uncle Justin. She hated the man, hated his attitude and casual view to the whole affair. Her parents were freaking dead! And it was her fault, and he was just making it worse.
But instead of the verbal spew she wished, all that came out was a shaky 'Okay' and a nod.
The doors slid open at her approach, and she walked in, followed by Justin. She made her way slowly to the side of the bed, reaching out with a shaking hand to stroke her father's messy hair from his head. With that, all the tears she had been trying to keep back spilled forth, falling over her cheeks in salty rivulets.
"I'm so sorry…" she managed to whisper through dry sobs.
'Don't be,' he wanted to reply to her. 'I love you, Angel.'
"I love you Daddy," she said, as if in answer, though she couldn't hear what he was thinking. She forced herself away from the bed, dragging her feet on the way to the door, and nodded dumbly at a nurse, who scurried in to turn off the machine. It wasn't until a moment after that the heart monitor went dead.
Renesmee's sobs burst through, and she clung to the man she loathed, soaking Justin's shirt with her tears. The man hugged her awkwardly, looking at the dead man who could pass for his twin, a small smirk plastered to his face.
'You dare hurt her, and I'll rip you limb from limb, I swear, even if I must rise from the dead,' Edward promised, as he alone was the sole witness to the scene. He growled inwardly, even as the scene faded and disappeared, and he was taken upward. He thought this was odd, since he wouldn't have expected anything really, after death, but he felt everything. He felt every being on the Earth; its thoughts, its actions, its feelings…every thought and emotion slammed into his with force, and he gasped, though he felt no need to breathe now. But he struggled, struggled against the pulling. He didn't want to leave this world; he wanted to go back to his daughter, to comfort her and protect her from the force of his brother, from what his intentions were.
"You can't fight for her forever," a kind voice said, echoing in the recesses of his brain. "She must learn to fight her own battles."
"Would you have me here passively while I watch that monster under the same roof as her?" Edward shouted back, angered by the benevolent voice.
"Whether you wait or not is up to you, Edward. Either way, she will be fine."
Edward growled, still angry at the supposed passiveness of the voice, but the clouds swallowed him, and he lost sight of the hospital he had supposedly died in. It was strange, for he still felt all on the Earth. Experiencing as he did, he felt as though he had been in a sensory deprivation chamber, only to have been given all but his sight back. Needless to say, it was an odd sensation, and entirely uncomfortable. He wanted to see his daughter, to make sure she was okay.
"She's going to be fine, Edward, you'll see," said a familiar voice from behind him, and he turned to see his sister, Alice, sitting in the shade of an oak, on a park bench.
He walked over, seating himself beside her. "And why would you know this?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"I have figured out many things while I have been here." Alice had died three years ago, due to a complication in the pregnancy. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to save the child either, but Edward saw no one near Alice. Did still-borns not go to Heaven? Was this even Heaven, where they were? "No Edward, this isn't Heaven. This place is for people who are waiting to stay. I, for instance, shall wait here until Jasper comes."
A thought occurred to him then. "Where's Bella?"
Alice smiled knowingly. "She's a little way down the road. She came here a little while before you, and she went in search for you. Nothing I could say could stop her. You had better hurry."
Edward was about to set off, when Alice's voice stopped him again. "Edward. If Bella is here, then who are you waiting for?"
"Do you not know?"
"I see nothing up here, expect the dead coming and going, waiting and leaving with their loved ones. Who should I be seeing?"
"For her sake, then, I hope you have to wait here for a very long time."
I don't want to be here, he thought. I want to be where I can help her, or guide her.
Edward soon caught sight of his beloved, Bella, sitting near the path, in a small clearing, much like the one they had known at Forks. He smiled and sat down to join her. She mimicked his smile, tilting her head to the side.
"So, you made it here too?"
He nodded, and she sighed.
"Our poor daughter."
Phantom tears ghosted down Bella's cheeks, and she wiped them away.
"We left her with that monster."
"I know," Edward answered. "But I swear to you, Bella, that I shall wait here for her, and I shall do everything in my power to stop him."
"What can you do?" she asked bitterly. "Rise from the dead?"
"No, but I shall think of something. No harm will come to our daughter, if I can help it."
They fell silent, quieted by his declaration. For a while, nothing stirred, not even the fake breeze with the fake trees, all an unnatural shade of white or grey.
"Is that a promise?"
He smiled, tilting her head so that he could kiss her with all of his love and adoration, melting her into his arms.
"I swear it."
Until their daughter was safe again.
Author's Note: Alright, well, I backed down. I'm sorry, but I had to end this before I ended up slitting my wrists or something. I was so not in a good mood when I wrote it, but don't worry, once I get better from whatever psycho meltdown I'm having, I shall start the sequel. Oh yes, there's a sequel, but it might not be what you thought, so I encourage you to give it a chance once I start it.
I love you all and I appreciate your support throughout this weird journey!