I was frozen. I couldn't move. I didn't believe it! I wouldn't! The fact that everything wasn't going to be there, the fact that I had to accept it, even though I refused to, didn't make me any more pleased with what was happening. My life was changing, no matter what. I had to move, and leave everything that I had behind.
The wind blew for a whole twenty-four hours. We lay on the mattresses in the cellar and listened to the house being torn apart above us. Sleep was impossible, with the noise of things crashing about and the eerie animal-like howl of the wind.
I thought about my room, the pictures on the walls, the drawer which held my most cherished possessions, my diaries, and the letters from my father.
I began to cry silently as I thought of them all being blown up into the sky, coming down maybe miles away, to be read by a total stranger.
"No! It couldn't happen!" I whispered to myself, hoping I would believe it.
I stared at my ceiling until my mind was blank and I felt drowsy. I gently rolled over and rambled to my window. I looked at the wet road, the scraps that hadn't been picked up since the tornado, the Christmas lights on the houses that had not been taken down yet, and the heavy raindrops plopping down and landing onto the roof tops. I shook my head until my mind was blank again.
I let my mind wander, jumping to conclusions of course. My mind just wasn't focussed anymore. Every part of me was shaking, yet every part of me was calm. Every part was thinking of him, yet every piece of my body didn't want to know him. Talk about mixed-signals.
How could something so perfect come to an end? People say nothing lasts forever, but was it really true? I couldn't keep my mind straight. I felt too empty to move, too empty to think about it. I don't want to leave when I had just started. I don't want to stop the things I have here.
I decided to get my thoughts off of that particular subject, and concentrate of something else for a change.
I don't want to move. I refuse to, I won't! I mean is there such a thing as a break? Why did life have to be so hard? Why did my father suddenly want me now?
My dad, my own dad! I haven't seen him in so long! He probably didn't even care about me! He had every right to not care about me, right? I wasn't a part of his life, anyway. I mean, I'm not the perfect child. I'm not an "A" student. I'm also not athletic, in any clubs, and I'm not a model or anything.
I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Bella Swan. I am 16 years old, chocolate brown eyes, long brown hair, and I'm average height. Even though I'm not popular, I do have a few friends. For now, that is.