Welcome one and all! For those of you who have been with me from the beginning, hello again! We're half way there! For those of you who haven't, welcome! This is a sequel to New New Moon, and in effect, a sequel to Twilight the Rewrite. If you have not read either, it may be best to do so. Or there may be references that you won't get.
With that being said, let's start!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight series. If I did... well this is pretty much what I'd do with it.
The gunshot was loud. Not only was it loud, but it lasted. It rang against her eardrums, hanging onto one excruciating note for hours. She wanted to stop it. She wanted to cover her ears and make it go away. But she had no movement in her arms. She began to feel wet. Was it raining? She looked upwards, staring at the gray sky. Raining... yes... raining. She prayed that the storm would drown out the horrid gun shot. It never did. A cold chill ran up her spine and she clutched herself. Then, yet another noise added to the horrible symphony. A scream... not of fear, but of sorrow. Someone was weeping. She searched quickly, remaining where she was. Two figures. Far away. She tried to move, but her body was so heavy... like lead. Weighed down, she groped and stretched, dragging her feet, yelling at them to run. She needed to help whoever it was. She tried to call out, but her voice didn't work. Finally, after prying and scrambling, she made it to their sides. The wailing grew louder, as the one cradling the second figure moaned out in anguish. She couldn't tell who they were, as their backs were turned to her. Her heart began to speed up. She needed to see who these people were. She needed to. She pushed herself further, as though she was walking through a deep pool of water. Slowly, she was able to make out the faces of the people before her. The first was her father. He was screaming, sobbing in agony. His face was read and his mouth hung open as he wailed. Slowly, her eyes trailed to the person he held in his arms.
Her own bloody, dead face stared back at her.
Isabella Swan awoke with a sudden jolt, her face sweaty and her eyes staring up at the ceiling. Her chest rose and fell with jagged breaths, her hands squeezing her blankets so tightly that her knuckles turned white. It took her a while, but slowly, her body relaxed. Almost dreading to find out, Bella turned to look at her clock. It was half past three in the morning. A deflated sigh came from her lungs as she sat up, wiping her face of sweat and tears. Her hands were sore from gripping the sheets. With an aching body, Bella slid from her bed and trudged into the bathroom. She splashed her face with water and allowed her forehead to press against the mirror.
How many times had she had that dream? If it didn't terrify her so much, Bella would have found the repetition irritating. Each night it was different. A different victim, a different mourner. But always two people. Never more, never less. She had started to have the dream after Nickey's pack left Forks. She said very few parting words to the wolves... At the time she thought it best. Now she was starting to think that perhaps it was wrong of her to stay so silent.
Five months ago, things had been so simple. Maybe not by the everyman's standard, but simple for her. She had a boyfriend who cared for her, a best friend who stood by her... Things became complicated the day she turned eighteen. She had begged and pleaded her boyfriend – a vampire by the name of Edward Cullen – to tell his father once and for all that the two were in love. (His family and he were responsible for her survival during a nasty run in with three rogue vampires who had taken a liking to her) He was apprehensive, but for her birthday, he obliged. That was a huge mistake. Not only did Carlisle disapprove, but he moved the entire Cullen clan out of Forks overnight, without even telling Bella where they were going. She was depressed for a little while, but her best friend, a wolf shifter named Jacob Black, helped her to forget and keep living. The both of them already had plans to head up to Seattle, where a photography summer camp had been set up. It presented her with a decent distraction – until the building that they were staying in caught on fire and the camp was canceled.
Neither of them wanting to return home five weeks or so in, they decided to bunk with a gang of werewolves they had bumped into previously. After befriending them, however, Bella soon learned of the people who hunted them. Simply known as "hunters." When things became too dangerous, they retreated to Jacob's reservation in La Push, where they were supposed to remain safe. Along the way, Edward had seemed to escape his father and returned to her, only to realize that she had already started to move on. Particularly with Jacob. She had put off dealing with the complicated tryst in order to focus on trying to help the wolves avoid capture. Unfortunately, not only did she get captured herself, but the relentless hunters managed to kill off the pack's leader, Mac.
Bella's chest clenched. She could still remember that day clearly. She could still hear the howls of mourning by the wolves. Nickey's love lorn cry was worse then the others'. That night replayed in her mind so many times... almost to the point of making her sick. In fact, Bella even threw up a few times because of the memory. No doubt, witnessing Mac's death was the cause of these nightmares. Not to mention the fact that the theories of her own demise haunted her now more then ever.
When she first became interested in Edward – it seemed like ages ago – she had been warned by one of his sisters, Alice, that contact with him would lead to a terrible end. Months later, again on her birthday, the exact same prophecy came from another source; this time, an old gypsy woman whom Bella still didn't know the name of. She was too terrified to return and find out. Who knew what awaited her?
But she supposed she had nothing to worry about now. She wasn't dating Edward or Jacob any longer (though she could hardly count one kiss as "dating"). Things were far too complicated for love. And now... only a week remained before school started up again. When was the last time she saw her friends? Her normal friends? Mike or Eric... Angela or Tyler... Hell, she wouldn't even mind Jessica's ramblings of gossip and rumors.
Jessica... Oh, lest she forget yetanother complication...
One of the reasons she drew away from Edward to begin with (other then the fact that she thought he was never coming back) was the fact that there was a very distinct possibility that she could have been nothing more then a substitute for Edward's first love, who killed herself after a decade or so of being a vampire. Before the New Year, Bella discovered that Jessica was actually the descendant of that same girl, Annabell Susan McCleary.
Bella let out a bitter laugh, recalling her torment no more then a year ago. That was when her first real boyfriend, Chris, told her that he had cheated on her with her former best friend in Phoenix – her home before moving to Forks. She could remember feeling so angry and dejected... she would give anything to have that naiveté again. Oh how simple things had been... She recalled him stopping by one rainy day in the spring to try and start anew. Then with Edward, she gently turned him away. How different would her life be had she accepted his offer?
Her legs became stiff as she realized that she had been standing in the same place for forty five minutes. No longer tired, she shuffled into her room and threw on her bathrobe. The house creaked as she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, her fuzzy slippers making faint shushing sounds beneath her. When she appeared in the kitchen, she got herself a glass of milk and heated it in the microwave. It was still very dark outside, and the kitchen was cool. She flipped on the light, seating herself at the table. Her head throbbed as she rested it in her hand, which was propped up on her elbow against the table top. She listened to the hum of the microwave, hunger crawling along the lining of her stomach. Finally, it beeped, breaking her from her vegetative state. After grabbing her mug from the microwave, she set it aside and grabbed an apple from the fridge. She set it down, sipping her drink.
"Still can't sleep?"
Bella turned to see Charlie Swan, her father, make his way into the kitchen. He smiled kindly, his eyes sympathetic. As far as he knew, her friend had died in a motorcycle accident. The man sat beside his daughter, patting her shoulder. "Have a nightmare again?"
"Yeah..." She ran her finger along the rim of her mug before taking a sip. Her eyes went to the red apple beside it and she sighed, picking at the sticker.
Charlie was silent for a moment. "I know what it's like, you know." She turned her eyes up to her father. "When I was a little older then you, a friend of mine died in a car crash. Drunk driver blind sighted him."
Bella nodded, unable to feel any sympathy. Whether it was because she was suffering from emotional overload or because she hadn't slept in a month and a half, one couldn't be sure. She took another drink of her milk as Charlie patted her shoulder again. "You know," he continued. "You went through something really traumatic... And with the pressure of school and all..." He took a breath before continuing. "I think we should get you some counseling."
Her eyes snapped up, their gaze accusing. "Are you saying I'm nuts?"
"No," said Charlie carefully. "I'm just saying that it might be nice if you had someone to talk to. A neutral third party. I see this all the time, Bella... It's post traumatic stress, and there are people that can help – "
"I don't need help." Bella stood and dumped the rest of her milk in the sink, agitated that her father would even think such a thing.
"I said I don't!" she snapped. She might have been taking out her frustration on her innocent father, but she didn't much care. She had gone through too much to care anymore. She rounded to him, her eyes glaring. "I'm not crazy, dad."
"I never said you were." He stood, his hands raised in a non threatening gesture. "But usually, when people go through something like that, it's best to get them someone to talk to. So that these repressed emotions don't come spilling out..."
"So what, I'm just another case for you? I'm just another file for your goddamn police station?"
"Of course not. You're my daughter. I only want what's best."
"What's best? What's best?" She laughed coldly. "You couldn't possibly know what's best for me, dad! You have no idea what's been going through my head!"
"Then tell me...!" Charlie pleaded weakly. "Tell me so that I can help you..."
"I don't need help!" Bella had an urge to throw her mug across the room, but instead slammed it onto the counter top. "For the last damn time, I'm not crazy, and I don't need some smart-ass doctor picking at my brain!" Fuming, Bella grabbed her apple and stormed up to her room, slamming the door loudly behind her. She locked it roughly and then fell to her bed. For a good half hour, she laid there, listening to the house breathe. She played with the apple in her hands, the moon's silver light giving it a faint halo through her window. Her fingernail trailed down the skin, and she finally peeled off the entire sticker, flicking it to the side. She felt no desire to eat it. So, after staring at it a bit longer, she walked to her window, yanked it open, and threw the fruit as hard as she could. It sored into the night and vanished into the shadows, making a faint "thump" off in the distance.
Once it hit the ground, Bella felt a wave of sadness overcome her. She gently shut the window and made her way back to bed. She felt awful for barking at Charlie like that. But she couldn't help herself. The fact of the matter was he didn't know what was best for her because he simply didn't know the truth. If he did... he'd want to get her more then a therapist. He'd want her in the loony bin. After analyzing her behavior that night, she couldn't say that she blamed him. Bella buried herself into her sheets, pressing the side of her face to her pillow. It was still a bit damp from her nightmare sweat.
She laid awake until sleep once more came to her the minute the sun rose.
Somewhat of a fuddled beginning... but appropriate. Leave me a review!