Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.
Reader discretion is advised: for adult situations, language, sexual content, drug reference.
Thanks so much to my betas MaryMABSAlice and Magnolia822 for all their help in this. Everyday, I told them this was shit and they had to beat it into me that it wasn't. Even if they were lying, their encouragement is the only reason why this is on right now. So, thanks ladies!
Caution: NSFW. I repeat, NSFW. There's a reason why "Possibility" is the musical selection to this fan fic. Don't say I didn't warn you. :)
You should also know this will be a very brief ff with only 10 chapters and no more than 12,000 words. I was inspired by the A Picture Says It All contest, with a word limit so I had to keep them to a minimum. But the structure of this ff is such that it was not meant to be any longer or shorter. It was meant to be ten chapters like cats are meant to have nine lives. Thus, there will be no epilogue.
Other inspirational sources are Stephenie Meyer's New Moon and Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, which I quote twice in AED.
One final word, none of this stems from my real life. I have never had drugs like this and none of the other heart-wrenching events Bella undergoes happened to me. So, please don't think I'm some sort of ex-druggie who needs psychological help. I mean, I probably need psychological help but it's not because I was a cokehead who fucked a bunch of dealers LOL.
Will I set up my everlasting rest,
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
- Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III
We are in the midst of another heat wave in New York City. It is July 22nd, 6:35 in the morning, and, already, the city bakes in its heat and humidity. Even at this height in the sky, sweat drips down between my breasts and thighs, dotting my shoulders and forehead. I cannot believe my rotten luck. One of the reasons why I came up here was because I thought this would be my reprieve. But it is all the same. The only difference is the wind and the breathtaking view of midtown Manhattan.
The other reasons, I do not want to think about. For now, I am a bit disappointed. I hated to leave my favorite city burning up like this.
I flick my hair back off my shoulder, contemplating putting it up in a ponytail. I do not have a rubber band. Damn. As I twist my hair around and around in my hands, a black one suddenly appears at my wrist.
Ooh, that is a nice trick. I grin, all smug. Mom would've liked that.
I form a thick bun at the top of my head. My mom would have liked that, too. My mom liked a lot of things. She was one of those moms who loved their children unconditionally. The last thing I remembered her saying before her untimely death was, "Don't fall in love with someone like your father. But, you know, whoever makes you happy, makes me happy." And I believed her. He could beat me and say I was the stupidest bitch in the world everyday of our marriage, and my mom would've loved him like her own son anyway.
That was 10 years ago. I had the fortune of meeting many men since her suicide. None of them were like my father, especially not Edward. My mom would have loved him the most.
A flash of her limp body falling from our window crosses my mind the same time I feel a shudder beneath me. In my mind's eye, her body glowed with crimson light, from head to toe. Even her lifeless eyes were red, both pupil and iris; they used to be the most brilliant brown.
The ledge shakes some more, jolting me back to the present. Is that my subconscious telling me it is time for my next trick?
I squeeze my eyes shut, grateful for my mom's final gift to me: magic. I imagine a better place, a cooler place that does not remind me of my mother's death, of any death. I will have to come back to the scorching heat later.
When I open my eyes, I stand in a breezy bedroom... naked.
A/N Damn, Bella's naked folks. What are we going to do with her now?