Twilight FanFic Addicts
FanFiction in Motion Contest
Title: Perfectly Dead
Pen Name: Jay's World
Summary: Why go on when the future is lost, your dreams broken in two just like your heart? Shattered. Dead. Why live when there is nothing left to live for?
Song: Mt Eden Dubstep – Beautiful lies
The first 25 seconds are my inspiration, but
the rest is just as contributing. I bet you
can guess what scene I had in mind
when I wrote this.
Five times and you have your mood right, I'd say.
Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, and all rights go to her. All lines drawn from
Twilight and New Moon are also hers (duh!) and is NOT my writing.
I make no profit of this story.
Also, ideas have come from Blondie aka Robin and her story "Dark Side of the Moon."
Read it and you'll realize what I've 'borrowed' – with permission of course.
This story contains the subject of suicide and some minor foul
language. Anyone uncomfortable with this is advised to leave.
Rose Masen Cullen, for being an amazing beta!
Advice: Read in ½ page…
This was my entry for the TFFA contest, and I'm so happy I entered, although I didn't win.
Thank you all, now read!
Life is cruel, life is horrific, life is sad.
But we live it in the hopes of good times,
good people, good experiences. If those
things are removed from our lives, we
remove ourselves from life itself. As for
her, she lost her life a long time ago,
but life is not made to live dead.
His image is imprinted in the walls, the air, the rocking chair. The memory of him sitting in the corner is obvious and torturous, taunting my every waking hour. Rocking back and forth, humming quietly as I sleep; it's a good made bad. A happy made sad. A love broken in two. My half gone, with him.
Even awake I live in a nightmare, seeing him walking beside me, towards me, away from me, always walking in some way. His shirt brisling open in the wind, arms cold and pale against any color he wears. His hair lifting ever so slightly; appearing as copper, bronze, and golden in the light. Eyes darkening with lust, love, famish. The Devil Walk.
The same image haunts my bedroom, only he is crouching in the window, stepping to the floor gracefully, his smile bright like the sun. An Adonis. A Greek God of wrath and destruction, turning cruel with fangs and blood dripping from his chin. His hair is blonde, his is face different, and it is his brother hunting me down and draining me in my sleep.
I wake up screaming every time, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, yearning to break out and flee from my soul.
Despite the dreams, I don't hold grudge or blame. Jasper wasn't at fault that night. How could I hold spite against him when he was only doing what came natural to him?
"It was exactly what was to be expected."
Hunt them, drink them, kill them, bury them.
That was supposed to be me, even from the start. The cold ones crave my blood the strongest, if not one brother then the other.
Slay me, drain me.
And yet, les Deux démons bellefollow me around, one conscious – one unconscious. Both making my life miserable. I am no masochist, I get no pleasure from the pain they give me, there is only hollowness. Which is the strongest sort of pain.
I can't handle pain, not even a scrape on my knee, a splinter in my finger. So my choice isn't strange at all. Why live in pain that won't stop? Continuous. Eternal. Like him. How twisted and ironic life must be. The sickest sense of humor. And I am the jester on strings.
I still miss you, I still see you in my sleep.
Where are you?
Please come back to me.
*System failure - message not delivered.*
"Don't look for her, Alice. Please, for me."
"She's my sister."
"And she's my life. So please, listen to me just this once. For me."
"You're the most selfish creature on earth, Edward. You only want to keep your own mind free of guilt if she gets hurt, but you're not the cause of it!"
"Not the cause! If it wasn't for me she'd never be in harm's way! How do you explain James almost killing her, or Victoria's allegiance to her mate making her thirsty for blood? The survivor gets revenge, Alice."
"So that's what you're going to do, get revenge?"
"An eye for an eye, Alice. A mate for a mate. She won't get near her. I won't let her."
"And when that is done, what of Bella? She'll get old and die, what then?"
"Then I have nothing left to live for."
I am the outcast, the plague roaming the halls silently, ignored but noticed. They see me, but they don't see me. I want to be seen, but not by them, not by the people who for months have tried to reach me but failed in their attempts.
5 missed calls.
6 text messages.
Vibrating – singing – fading into the background.
My phone is silent, not even Charlie calls me anymore.
Of course not, he knows where I am at all times. My bed, my desk, the kitchen, the living room. Where else do I need to go? I sleep, I do homework, I cook, I watch TV with my father. Rinse and repeat. The sun sets and rises with my unwritten schedule imprinted in my brain. Speak only when needed to – "Bella, the answer to question five?" – and let time fly. Or crawl, depends on the day.
Some days it nice; the sky so dark and gloomy, brooding, clouds huddled together in a thick cloth above me. No rain, no drizzle, just darkness. Yet other days the pain is severe; the sun blazing and the snow glistening, reminding me so much of him.
What would he have wanted for Christmas?
A stolen kiss beneath the mistletoe?
New Years, our resolutions to be together, better than ever?
Midnight striking, my breath staggered from his cold kisses?
Would that have been heaven?
'Cause without it there is surely only hell.
But there is routine, a comfort that soothes my days when my thoughts are not centered on his being. His life. He said that was me, once. Alas, I concentrate on school; the work, not the people. I get an A in Calculus and Charlie takes me out to the diner. Steak and cobbler – routine. Comfort. He speaks briefly about work, but it's Fork and not much to tell. A few missing hunters in the woods, presumably taken by the large wolves appearing in the area.
The rest of the time is silent, tense, he doesn't know how to handle this. Me. My behavior.
He threatens to send me to Florida – sun, diamonds, sparkles. No! I beg, plead, kick and scream.
"Please Ch-dad, please don't. Not now."
"He's not coming back, Bells."
"I – I know, it's not that. It's school, I can't leave my friends. Not during Senior year."
"What friends, Bella? You don't return a single call from Angela, you don't go out, and have fun or anything. When is the last time you talked to Jacob, anyways? The kid misses you."
"I have friends. I, with my job and schoolwork…I've been busy."
"No one's that busy."
"Jessica invited me to go shopping. Prom."
"Who are you taking?"
"Tyler Crowley. He, eh, asked me."
Red cheeks, embarrassment, and lies.
Tyler didn't ask me, not this year, but last year, when I went with… him.
"Crowley, eh? Good kid, good parents."
I ask Jessica to go shopping and she's stunned and reluctant. Does she remember last year? It's a year since the last time I ever really went out with her, anyone for that matter, 'cause I was with him once I found out.
"Say it. Out loud."
Inseparable back then. Eating, sleeping, school, and afternoons; all in his presence. Summer with the Cullens; hikes to a lake up north, my face buried in his neck, and wind and time and speed was left behind us. What would've taken days took mere hours, and he still won over the others. Even with me as extra weight.
Swimming, diving, sunbathing. Laughing and smiling as the sun shined down upon us. Me as the odd ball out: the only one without beauty or shimmers. Rosalie highlighted in diamonds, even Emmett appearing as another Sun God despite his natural lethal appearance. They were all so magnificent, but in all it didn't faze me as long he was by my side.
Back then, happy times, he said he'd never leave me. He promised.
Or so I thought.
Port Angeles is too outdated for Jess' taste, so we go to Seattle. A weekend trip with the girls; staying at a three-star hotel down town, Lauren – Angela – Jessica – Me. Lauren, of course, hates me even more now that I've stolen her 'date'. They were never together, and I applied mascara one day, wore fitted clothes instead of my bags. I'm thinner, I can see it too, and the boys seem to like it.
I don't give a damn what they think.
But I was on a mission to please Charlie, and the only way was to follow their standards.
He was too eager to say yes, grinning like a fool and talking details.
Don't mess with me Tyler Crowley, though you haven't noticed me – I've noticed you. Heard you.
"I bet she's tight as fuck."
"Hah, Cullen's probably stretched her out. Asshole."
"Oh yeah, that's right, think she's too uptight to take it up the ass?"
Animals are much more enjoyable than humans – not in taste but in mind. They don't think like us, they just act. Kill, eat, sleep, and reproduce. That is what they do. It's a simple life with no complaints.
I do not complain.
My needs are simple.
I am an animal.
Carlisle would reprimand me for my thoughts, telling me I am not evil, I'm not bad, I am a good son. I do not hurt people.
Eighty five, Carlisle, I've hurt eighty-five people. Killed them for my own satisfaction. My own playtime pretending to be God and punishing demons. Murderers, rapists, kidnappers, pedophiles.
They were evil, and to remove them I became evil as well.
That never went away, and now I am back to evil, but this time the end justifies the means even more; Victoria will die so that she can stay safe.
I miss our talks. No one can compare to your chirpiness
and no one amuses me like you do. Where are you? Come
back to me, please, even if it's just for a second, so I can
see you. See that it's real. You have to be real, Alice, or
else he won't be real, just an imprint of his image, his
ghost. Come back, or I'll know I'm truly insane.
Come back to me.
*System failure - message not delivered.*
I don't sleep in Seattle; I'm too nervous and too embarrassed to let my eyes close. Only little kids have bad dreams, I'm not supposed to. Not supposed to wake up screaming and sweating and panting, jerking away from all human touch.
Charlie takes pills to sleep now, but I can't drug Angela. I have the pills though, stacked away in my bag for safe keeping. I can use them on myself if it gets too much, but I don't know if they'll work and I don't want to take that chance.
Lauren gets a blood-red strapless that only stays up due to her breast enhancement; a fact I know solely because she bragged about it on the way there – that is also how I know her god-awful bob is an agent's idea for making her noticed.
If her nose doesn't do the trick then what the hell can a hairdo do?
Or maybe that's next on the list for the plastic surgeon.
Jessica picks out spaghetti straps, deep pink, layers, making her chest appear more…well, more. "Do my boobs look good in this?" We all nod, and she makes her way back to the dressing rooms.
Next up is Angela, who again is going with Ben Cheney. They've gone steady for a year now and I'm happy for her, even though I know the catalyst for their relationship. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth and frowns my smile, but I hold strong and listen to her whenever she talks about him.
Lavender, no heels, and her hair down, that is what we decide for her, for her we are kind and smile and laugh and nod. She really is beautiful, heels or not.
"Now for you, Bella."
"I, eh, I didn't pick out anything."
"Wasn't it you who wanted to go shopping in the first place?"
I relent, and pick out something without looking at it. Then I hate it while they love it, even Lauren spearing me a snide yet encouraging compliment. Beautiful... Great contrast against your skin... I wish I had complexion like yours… Surprisingly, it actually looks good on you…
They make me buy it and bag it, and it's burning coal in my hand as I walk with it, wear it, parade it.
I take a sleeping pill while Angela is in the bathroom, just one, and drift off to sleep so fast from the day's activities.
"Don't worry. You're human – you memory is no more than a sieve. Time heals all wounds for your kind."
"And your memories?"
"Well – I don't forget. But, my kind … we're very easily distracted.
The scene changes, and I'm scared in the darkness. Hyena sounding laughs surround me, tease me.
You're not enough.
He doesn't want you.
"Bella, Bella, wake up!"
My throat burns and clogs and wrecks, my scream curling my blood and freezing all other sound in the room. The light is lit and I am not alone – for now, at least – and I'm stared at. Angela is holding me, cuddling me, calming me, and the others are scared of me. Of what I am, how I am.
They are clad in flannel, like me, but being everything I am not.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Ssssshhh" Angela coos in my ear, patting my head and lets me cry against her shoulder until I'm all dried up and the two most gossipy girls at school have left our room. Everyone will know about my mistake; my screaming in my sleep, and Charlie will hear.
He'll send me back to Florida.
"Ssssh, Bella, I'm not going anywhere" Angela states as we lay down on the mattress, her arms still around me.
"I didn't think otherwise."
She sighs. "You were chanting; don't leave me"
And now the thought of Florida doesn't seem so bad. For a second only, before remembering. There's a possibility, isn't there? He can come back, and I will let him, as long as he comes back.
The drive home is silent, and I feel like I'm being watched. Lauren and Jessica sit in the front seat taking turns driving, while Angela and I reside in the back. None of us are asked to drive; Angela without a license, and me not considered mentally stable to handle a heavy vehicle.
The dress hangs on my closet that night, and I stare at it, contemplating utter destruction. Fire. Scissors. Bare hands ripping. But that would be half a month's paycheck gone to waste, and prom is just around the corner.
That night is horrible and Charlie bursts into my room at one point, saying it's worse than ever, "I'm calling Dr. Gerandy", before I talk him out of it. It's not needed, it was just a bad dream. Finally he gets up to leave, glancing at my closet.
"You picked it out for prom?"
"Blue looks good on you."
That's what he said too.
"Edward, please call me. Esme misses you, we all do. It's not the same anymore."
If she could, my sister would cry real tears. Weep. Sob. But it's all dry over the phone, her message a month old and I realize it's May. I still haven't completed my mission.
I'm a failure.
"Bella," I breathe into the wind, standing on the mountain top with eagle eye.
"I love you, Edward."
"Please, go away, stop taunting me."
"You said you'd never leave me, Edward. Did you stop loving me?"
"Never, Bella, I'll never stop loving you. Please."
Her image is strong and beautiful, yet only a reflection mirroring her. A ghost almost. She's not there, I need to tell myself this a thousand times. She's not real, she's not there.
I'm just crazy, seeing what I've left behind haunting me as I crawl and run over rock and dirt and grass. I see her following me, running alongside me through the evergreen that becomes thick and foggy and soggy.
Red catches my eyes and Bella smiles.
"Go get her, make me proud. Kill for me, before she kills me."
Despite Charlie's attempts for me to further my socializing, I do not reach out to Jacob, nor does he to me. I have seen him once, only once, walking through the woods. For recreational purposes only, I promise, I wanted to see if it would hurt less if I saw him somewhere there were only happy memories.
That is not my bedroom – where he let me indulge in his lips that one time more than he ever had before, only to push me away further. Neither is it Port Angeles – where the remnant of my almost-attack still flows through my veins in cold blood while walking the streets.
There is only one place I could think of that held no pain, until I brought it there. Until I ventured for hours stumbling, tripping, falling, scraping, becoming almost paralyzed as the familiarity of my actions hit me in the head like a hard rock. Almost giving up, I'd fallen right into it.
Into a meadow filled with absolutely nothing, nothing, just me.
He wanted me to lie for him, protect myself – don't do anything reckless, for Charlie of course – so I lied. But to what use? Laurent was on a mission as well, to find me and turn me over to Victoria.
"You are absolutely…mouthwatering."
The wind picked up and my hair twisted around my face, my trees behind me parting for bears, wolves, creatures, bigger than anything I'd ever seen in my entire life. One stuck out from the pack; russet with coal black eyes. Eyes I'd seen looking at me with the same worry as then.
So now he's ignoring me, like I am him, because I know what he is and I don't want to be a part of it. What good could ever come of running with werewolves? More pain. More broken hearts. More people leaving me.
No matter where I go I find traces of your existence.
Even in the life I had before you, in my father's life,
I find you. Stop haunting me, just come back to me.
*System failure - message not delivered*
Laurent is dead, that much did Jacob tell me. He wasn't alone though, Jacob; he had his pack with him, flanking his sides as he spoke curt and cold, not like the boy I used to know. He is a man now, broad chest and full of muscles, hot to the touch when I stumbled into him.
His friends called me Vampire Girl – my insides turned cold and vast, before crumbling into ashes from the burning pain.
"When is that boy showing up?"
"That boy, dad? A few weeks ago he was good people, now he's that boy?"
"You know what I mean. Crowley, when's he coming over?"
"In an hour."
"Shouldn't you get dressed, then?"
Though fashion is not my forte I do have the genetic gene that allows me to know when something is good or bad. This dress is beautiful. Just looking at it brings tears to my eyes, but I hesitate to put it on. The skirt flows over my thighs and ends below my knee cap, the bust flattering without being overpowering, and with the black one-inch heels Jessica had forced me to buy, I know I look good.
"I love this color on you" he states from behind me, his hands hovering over my hips and his head above my shoulder. His eyes are closed, content, beautifully peaceful, and he's the man I fell in love with.
His eyes open and meet mine in the mirror – and I know I'm awake, or so I hope – and they are red. Crimson. Blood. His hair is blonde and his name is Jasper, and his razor sharp teeth break the tender flesh of my neck.
The party has come to an end and I'm lying on the floor bleeding out, and six eyes go from topaz to cardinal. They're lethal, predators, and I am alone and weak against their strength.
I shake my head, and the image is gone, and Charlie is standing in the doorway, the mirror reflecting his concerned frown.
"You okay there, Bells?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Tyler's downstairs waiting."
"Thank you, dad."
"Estou com fome"
A thought, not my own, craving for food. It's a small girl with long black hair; filthy and dirty, her body thin and malnourished to the brink of death.
"Eu quero minha mãe."
She's crying as well, wanting her mother, quivering as a breeze swift through. She's lost in the jungle, starving and scared. What would Carlisle do? He'd help the child, which I do, picking her up as she sleeps and run back to her village.
I am not seen.
Time doesn not faze me when I run, when I hunt, only knowing day from night by seeing the sun. And yet here, in Brazil, there is too much sun for me to be public. Fortunately, my prey is like me, confined to the shadows and darkness to avoid awareness.
She doesn't want to die, I want her to, but to do that I can't be seen or else I'll die as well.
"Look at yourself, your eyes are too dark. How many weeks has it been this time?"
"Too long, love."
Prom is what prom is. It's awkward pictures in front of the mantel for Charlie who documents everything quite nervously, it's the corsage and Tyler's matching tie, it's his parents requesting pictures at their house as well. Oooh, Tyler, you're such a big boy with your mother pinching your cheeks and straightening your tie. She's so proud of you. Would she think the same if she knew the real reason you're taking me?
Lauren of course had told everyone of my incident in Seattle, hoping Tyler would dump me in favor for her. If he'd done it, I would have felt no pain. I would have lied to Charlie and said I was going with some girls instead, going stag. But he stayed put, to my complete and utter surprise.
Until I heard – Tyler Crowley had booked a room at the Forks Motel!
Shame on you. You think I will put out.
A fleeting and menacing thought enters my mind as he takes my hand and walk in to the gym decorated in balloons and papier-mâché – maybe I should put out.
But no, my soul and half-heart pushes the thought away in disgust. I keep on to my so called virtue tonight, I don't even let him kiss me on the cheek, because his lips will be too cold and too callous.
His kisses were perfect, and no one will ever fit the standards he's set.
It's prom, it's nerves, and it's complete and utter distaste from my side.
"You should be in a good mood, today of all days."
I don't dance, and Tyler makes his way to Lauren who sends me a victorious grin.
Take him, I really don't want him.
I only want one.
And he doesn't want me.
Jasper is vicious in my dreams again, parting my head from my body, the blood gushing from my neck. But his words, his image, is what makes me scream and squirm and shout for him to please don't leave me, please, please, come back to me!
The pain is too much; no words Charlie provides can comfort me.
The pain is just too much, and I am not a masochist.
"You promised you wouldn't do anything reckless."
I stare at him, his face distraught and transparent, but pale and sad. How can a person so destructive be so beautiful?
"You don't want me, and I don't want anyone else."
"Please, Bella..." Hearing him saying my name so tenderly, pleading me to reconsider, it pushes me over the edge.
"Goodbye, Edward," I whisper his name for the first time since he left me.
Loneliness has never felt so…good. It's the sound of birds in the distance, the leaves brushing against each other, a river a mile from here attracting the wild life. It's quiet, serene, and it's a fire in front of me turning body parts into ashes.
There's relief, reassurance, peace, and Victoria is finally gone.
There is no further threat to my love, and I can stop running.
But then I realize, where is she? Her voice that has haunted me, taunted me, pestered me to keep going, has disappeared. She was at my side when I caught up with Victoria, I saw her angelic face as I crouched and leaped, tackling the vampire to the ground and fought, bit and grabbed any limb I could get my hands on.
Yet, now, nothing.
And loneliness turns…lonely.
The fire is high, black smoke rising to the coal black sky with twinkling stars aligned perfectly geometrically.
Her voice is so clear, crystal, bells chiming beautifully, but holding so much sorrow. Her voice, her essence, her body, is standing in the flickering flames, watching me with a sad expression. Broken, reflecting me. But her words are splitting my dead heart, crushing it with each breath.
It sounds so final.
The fire continues, her image evaporates, and I fall to my knees. It hurts, it kills, I cry out in pain. I feel like I'm drowning, gasping for breath which I don't need. My insides are on fire, but the real fire is in front of me, blazing and red and golden. Then why is it I who hurt? I who feel the scorching pain?
"Bella," I choke. "No."
"You okay for today, Bells?"
I nod. It's Sunday, and being alone while Charlie goes fishing is nothing new. It's expected, it's routine. And he knows it too, used to coming home to a clean house and cooked food. He lives without complications, ignoring my retreating demeanor.
He halts on the threshold, but doesn't turn around. I stand in the window waving goodbye to him as he pulls out, and he returns the gesture with an unsure hand. The cruiser rounds the corner and out of my peripheral, and I sigh.
The work ahead of me is tremendous; my final good act for Charlie.
I dust, I vacuum, I lift the couch and move dressers, and I balance on chairs and counter tops to reach the furthest corners. A bucket list follows me around the house, a cloth and Windex in both hands.
Although I've only lived in this house for a year, it seems fitting to leave it like I met it. Spotless, from my own doing.
I grunt, I groan, I wince as an ant bites my finger.
The basement, Charlie, have you ever even looked inside it?
Dust bunnies and spotted tigers, fighting me all over.
By the time I stand, swiping my hands over my clam forehead and admire the view, it's close to dusk outside. But Charlie won't be home for hours, I reckon, as Billy has just bought a new flat screen – two inches bigger than Charlie's! – and he has a satellite dish.
The Mariners are playing tonight.
I hope they win.
At least he'll have some good memory from today, years from now.
My room remains much the same, although I tidy the bed and arrange my things neatly in the closet. I throw away paper and scribbles, writing I don't want Charlie to see.
I love you and I always will.
Look after him for me.
*System failure - message not delivered*
I delete the messages and the email account, destroying all evidence of them ever existing.
My car rumbles to life in a heart-warming manner, memories of my first ride in it so clear and happy.
Dusk has fallen, and twilight lives.
"Twilight. Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end."
I am counting on this, albeit the day has not been perfect, rather tainted with sorrow.
I pass the sign welcoming me back to Forks, population three thousand one-hundred and twenty – soon to be three thousand one-hundred and nineteen. A little over a year ago I passed this sign on the other side, gloomy and brooding over the turn of my life. Now I leave it behind me in resignation and relief, content with my resolution.
Beside me sits the catalyst – but not the reason – of my demise.
"I forgive you, Jasper."
He nods - his spirit fading away from me as fast as it showed.
For me, giving forgiveness is second nature, something I've always done. I wonder if it will be given to me just as easily after today.
In March, I once drove Charlie to the Reservation when his cruiser was in the shop, but needed the truck for further shopping that day. I had almost driven into the mountain wall when I saw some boys jumping off the cliffs. Charlie, being a responsible cop, said cliff diving was reckless and stupid, that it could get them killed.
"Don't do anything reckless."
If he knew he gave me my ending idea that day, he'd die of guilt, but on the kitchen table is a note explaining everything – everything I can tell without betraying the Cullens. Carlisle is still a man I hold dearly in respect, and to end his life for exposure would be evil. No, I've written my farewell, my love for my father.
There is one for my mother as well.
My final goodbye to her over the phone last night just wasn't enough.
The sky is golden and peach when I park the truck off track from the road. It darkens as I walk through the thin patch of forest, and the evening is frisk and chill as I pass the line from trees to bare land.
The ocean is strong and uneasy, its waves crashing against the cliff with monstrous power overwhelming me. White, blue, dark. It's a heap of teal mixed with cobalt, and it is gloriously terrifying.
I can't swim, but thinking about it makes me laugh. Who's planning on swimming here?
A rush of wind catches onto my dress and drags me closer to the edge, the tips of my toes digging into the earth. I almost lose my balance and fall backwards, landing on my back and knocking the air out of me.
"You're a magnet for accidents."
"Don't be foolish, Isabella, don't do this."
"It's the only way I can think of…to be with you."
"Step back, Bella, love, please don't."
He's glorious as always, his image so strong now and I hate my mind for making him like this. Why does he have to be so perfect? Why couldn't I be the same? Why couldn't I have been enough for him?
"No," I push, and stand to my feet, dusting the dirt from the dress. It's not tainted from other hands, Tyler Crowley never fully touched my dress, and so I see it fitting for this occasion. He did say it was his favorite color on me. Back when we were happy.
"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore. You don't get to protect me. You don't get to decide my faith or my life. This is me, this is me without you."
I cry, my cheeks puffing with red – another thing he claimed to love about me – but I am not angry. I do not hate him. Despite everything, I can't hold anything against him.
"Edward," I whisper, "goodbye."
Then I lift up into the wind, flying, soaring, falling.
Water crashes around me, swirling with bubbles and waves, and I am blinded until it calms around me. I sink, my vision blurring.
Before everything goes black, all I see is him.
Through days, through hours, minutes, seconds.
I am the fastest.
I have to be the fastest.
To get to her.
I feel her pain in my bones, paralyzing my soul.
I have a soul, Carlisle, I'm sure of it now, and it's connected to hers.
Desert turns to concrete, concrete turns to moss.
Green, brown, all around me.
Her house is vacant, but her scent is strong.
Mere hours since she left.
I follow it, stopping only once when I reach the treaty line. But to hell with it, I cannot be stopped now. To hell with my life, I have to save hers.
The marks from the truck leave the main road, disappearing into the thick forest and I fear the worst.
Her scent lessens.
The cliff is right there, below me only water.
Dark and deep.
"Bella!" I cry. "No, no, no" I sob and wreck and twist.
She's gone, and with her my life, my love, my reason to live.
I once thought up a plan to end my existence if this day would come, but the wolves closing in on me, have made this so much easier.
Bella. Lovely, beautiful Bella.
I've failed, I haven't keep her safe.
Limb torn, sharp bites, cutting stone flesh.
Burn, burn, burn.
I love you.
Love is grand, love is eternal, love is a whole split into two.
Two parts of the same, bound to search until they find each other.
This love is no different, but once whole it was broken again.
The two parts could not survive on their own.
Reunited in a place beyond earth,
He knows this place; he has seen it a million times before. In mind, in spirit, and in body. But it has changed, for the better. The flowers are alive, violet and blue, honey and strawberries coloring meadow. There is only light, not a single shadow cascading from the stretching oaks.
It's a familiar place.
It's their place.
In the center stands a girl, her long brown hair cascading down her back as her head tilts back to see the clear sky.
She's been waiting.
He walks towards her, gentle and silent steps on the soft grass folding easily beneath his bare feet. It's a strange emotion, but powerful all the same. The sun blinds him momentarily as he reaches her, and he touches her shoulder with a nervous hand.
"You came back to me."
"I could never stay away from you."
They are silent, eyes appraising one another lovingly. To him, she looks more beautiful than she ever has; ivory skin flawless and radiating, contrasted against her hair that appears a viral of chestnut, chocolate, mahogany, and umber. Her body is lean and curvy, highlighted by her dress cascading like a waterfall.
As for her, she sees him as a new man; scruffy and flawed in the most perfect way.
"Your eyes are green."
"My human color.
"Where are we?"
"As long as I'm with you, I don't care."
They both smile, crookedly with dimples showing. Both blush. Time doesn't exist at all, and they stand forever together.
Eventually they lie down, legs intertwined and nose touching, smiles and blushes in place, eyes glinting excitingly.
"You love me?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Forever," they unite.