The Twilight Twenty-Five
Penname: Miss Snazzy
A/N: These are my entries for the Twilight Twenty-Five. There are basically twenty five different entries, each revolving around a different word and each with a different plot. Here is the link to the community for more information: http://community(dot)livejournal(dot)com/thetwilight25/
I hid behind a bulky tree as she twirled around with her friends. She was wearing a new dress today—white with blue ribbons. It made her look like an angel.
Her name is Bella Swan…and I'm in love with her.
I thought about the day we met.
Bright blue and red lights flashed as the officers moved about the scene—procedure choreographing their steps. I watched a couple men wheel away a pair of tables covered in white sheets. Despite my young age, I knew what they were.
They were my parents.
I sat down on the sidewalk, letting my head sink into my hands. They were so close to the safety of the house that it seemed like a terrible joke for them to die down the street. They were so close to walking through the door—my father setting down his briefcase and my mother peeling the potatoes for dinner.
They didn't know I had gotten a hundred percent on my spelling test. They didn't know I had peeled the potatoes to spare my mother from the task I knew she hated, although she never complained.
They didn't know I had organized my father's desk because he wasn't able to find the time. They didn't know I had picked up all the toys on my floor and made my bed.
They didn't know and they never would.
Who would make me a sandwich for lunch? Who would know how to cut it up just right like my mother always had? Who would make me flash cards and sit there with me until I remember every word and definition like my father always had?
I knew the answer to all those questions.
No one would.
I was alone.
I looked up and saw a little girl standing in front of me. She was wearing a little white dress with a blue skirt and a blue pocket right in the middle of her chest. Her hair was styled in natural brown curls with the sides pinned to the side of her head with tiny blue clips.
"Hi," I replied shyly.
I had never really liked girls. They were too tiny and girly. Plus, whenever I asked them if they wanted to play, they always ran away from me saying I had cooties. Rosalie Hale had actually thrown a clump of dirt at me the last time I tried to talk to her.
So imagine my surprise when this girl started talking to me. I had never seen her before—she wasn't in my class. I decided she must have been the daughter of the Chief of Police that my mother had talked about.
"You're crying," she whispered.
I tensed and rubbed roughly at my eyes. My fists met moisture and I found myself glaring at the salty liquid now on my hands. She was right. I had been crying.
"No I wasn't," I lied.
I looked up from my Velcro shoes to see her sitting beside me now. "My name's Bella," she said, extending a hand the same way my father did when meeting new business associates.
I stared at her face, seeing nothing both the seriousness in her brown eyes. They reminded me of the melted chocolate my mother let me dip my fingers into when she made her special candies.
"Edward," I said, not taking her hand. She eventually lowered it and I felt a little guilty at the sad expression on her face. I knew my mother would be disappointed in me for not being more polite.
"My parents died," I answered, the words feeling foreign and wrong on my tongue. I kind of wished she had thrown a clump of dirt and left me to be.
There was a long silence between us as I pulled the Velcro up on my shoes.
"My mom died in a hospital," she suddenly blurted and my eyes snapped to her. She was twirling a loose thread from her dress around her finger, her gaze pointed at the ground. She looked nervous for the first time since she walked up to me.
I didn't speak, but then, I didn't think she wanted me to.
"She started getting really sick a year ago. I don't know what was wrong with her—no one would tell me anything. She went to the hospital a lot though. Eventually, she never left."
She suddenly yanked the thread out with a sharp tug. "So she died and I was sent here to live with Charlie."
She tilted her head down and some of her hair fell forward, shielding her face with reddish brown curls. I reached out without thought and tucked it behind her ear. Her skin felt hot and I realized she was blushing.
I smiled at her to alleviate some of her embarrassment, but it seemed to only make it worse.
"It's okay to cry, you know."
Her face was still bright red and her eyes were shining with unshed tears, but she was smiling at me. I went back to fiddling with the Velcro on my shoes, snapping the strap back into place.
I felt more than heard her shift away, likely tired of wasting her time on me. I lowered my head to my knees this time, fighting the urge to cry.
My head snapped up and I stared at her in shock. She hadn't left, but she was holding out her hand. I stared at it for a moment, but once her face started to crumple, I knew I had no choice. I took it.
She led me down the sidewalk, away from all the bright lights and chaos. Away from the rubber gloves and medical equipment. Away from my parents' dead bodies. Away from my thoughts of loneliness even.
We walked over to a white house with a decrepit old red truck in front. "That's going to be mine someday," she commented absently, patting it on our way by.
She must be crazy. She will not be driving that around. I barely even knew this girl, but there was no way in hell I was going to allow her to drive around that deathtrap. In fact, I don't think she should drive at all. We can walk to school together. I'll even carry her if I have to.
It was at this point that I noticed we had already entered the house and Bella was staring at me like I was insane. I glanced around at the yellow walls, noting the way they were peeling from lack of attention.
"My mom did that when she was still with Charlie," Bella explained, turning toward her freezer.
She pulled something out, but I couldn't see what. When she shut it, I noticed a picture attached to the fridge with magnets. I saw Bella in the arms of a woman with a huge smile and I knew who it was.
"She was really pretty."
Bella followed my gaze and smiled sadly. "She was."
"You look like her."
Bella jerked her head to look at me with a stronger blush than she had earlier. I realized what I had said and felt my eyes widened. I had no idea what to say, so I said nothing.
"Thanks," she mumbled with a smile and I wasn't so bothered anymore.
She opened a pair of popsicles and broke them apart before handing one to me. We ate them in silence, each focused on the task of eating our ice creams and neither of us really knowing what to say next. She kept glancing at me though. This made me uncomfortable, but somehow happy for reasons I couldn't figure out.
I froze as she reached up and touched a piece of my hair. "You're really pretty."
I grimaced at the description of pretty before what she had said sunk in. "You think I'm pretty?"
She tensed and her eyes widened in horror, likely realizing what she had just said. "Well I—I mean y-you—" she stammered, her face burning brighter than Rudolph's nose before she covered it with her hands.
"I think you're pretty too," I blurted, feeling my heart hammer with that admission.
She dropped her hands to her side. "Really?" she asked.
I nodded profusely, reaching for her hand. Her eyes darted between my hand and my face several times, finally resting on my mouth. There was this weird feeling ranging from my stomach to my chest as I took a step closer.
We closed our eyes as we leaned forward and our lips pressed together. Her lips felt soft and tasted like the cherry popsicles we were just eating. She touched my hair again and I flew backwards, hitting the table behind me.
"Wow," I said in wonder.
"Yeah," she mumbled in agreement.
We hadn't spoken since that day.
She tried though.
She offered me her friendship. She spoke to me when no one else would.
I avoided her like the plague.
She got the hint eventually—her face going blank, that special light I could always see in her eyes doused. She had given up and although this hurt me deeply, it was my fault.
I chose to be alone.
Her gaze darted to me, shocked by my appearance. She thought I ignored her, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I kept my distance and feigned disinterest, but I was always watching. Always keeping an eye on her—like she had on me that day.
She took a step toward me.
I took a step back.
I love Bella Swan. I love her enough to leave her be.
I'm destined to be alone.