A little bit of character explanation: Bella's personality (in my story) will reflect that of a highly intelligence person with ingrained characteristics of apathy, manipulation, and selfishness. Her IQ is in the upper 130 region. These details are pertinent to her persona, as well as the story.
Black Candy is going to be separated into parts. The first part is Bella's POV; all subsequent chapters will be her point-of-view until I specify and label it is the second part, which will leave way for the next point-of-view - Edward's.
This story is rated M because, unlike my other stories, there will be written sex scenes.
In a mad world, only the mad are sane. I tended to agree with this, which is probably why I led my life the way I did. Differences had always separated me from bonding with my peers, the people surrounding me, even my parents - they were never on the same wavelength. I saw things differently than others, in a more distorted kind of way. Someone else's wrong was usually my right, and that cast me out as unusual and as someone to be exalted and admired...at least by my schoolmates and the like.
I never bothered to learn about the plebes that were constantly around, never bothered to muster up a care. I preferred to be isolated in my own mind than to frolick amongst the town idiots. So far deep into my psyche was I. I'd romanticized madness to the point that sanity no longer was appealing...because the only ones for me are the mad ones.
Lace against skin, I watched my doppelganger through the mirror, witnessing her cigarette burn to fluttering ash on the dark hardwood floor. I flicked my Camel, uncaring about the damage, and swiveled to my side. My phone vibrated from the nightstand, dancing itself across a dirty plate of toast crumbs and used silverware. I ignored it and instead pulled smoke into my lungs, torching my pink throat with vapors. My mom, only two rooms away, would have absolutely killed me if she saw my sin.
I walked over to my open window, blowing out my smoke with pursed lips. Watching with narrowed eyes, the second story window across the street suddenly became illuminated. Christian Peterson's room. He was a 21-year old teaching assistant who had first started at Cambridge Prep when I was a senior. He and I had never actually physically been inappropriate, but he liked to watch me undress from his across-the-way bedroom. His blue curtains shimmied and then he was sliding his window open. His fingers twirled mischievously in a wave.
I flicked my head up once in greeting. But tonight, I didn't feel like teasing, so I simply walked away, murdered my cigarette into a secret ash tray, and tucked into bed.
The next day found me in my lifelong bedroom, screams from my mother, Renee echoing along the walls.
"Isabella Swan! What is this?"
I stared at her evenly. Was that an actual question? She could take in the four naked walls of white, and brown cardboard boxes stacked like a Tetris pile, but still felt the need to ask idiotic, rhetorical questions...
"Exactly what it looks like," I replied.
"But, you're not moving for another week!"
"Says who?" I muttered as I folded the last of my t-shirts from my white dresser.
"You did!" She said, outraged. "You said you weren't moving in with Rose and Jasper until a few days before school started."
I shrugged. "Oh well."
"I made arrangements for the movers to come this Saturday," she said, her anger finally simmering down as she really took in the sheer blankness of my room.
"I cancelled the movers, and ordered a U-Haul instead."
My mother shook her head, clearly not used to my antics by this point. "How did you even do that?"
I laughed harshly. "I have an IQ of 134, Mother. I'm quite sure I can handle hiring a U-Haul."
My mother shook her head, and came beside me to help fold up boxes and stack them. "Do you think you'll need a taser? I should have gotten you a taser...you're too thin," She muttered to herself, shaking her head in disappointment.
"I have a gun packed with my toothbrush."
Renee gave me an annoyed look. "Bella, please tone down the sarcasm. Chicago is no Cambridge. You were safer at Harvard." The last part was a whisper, but it reached my ears nonetheless. There was nothing else to do but roll my eyes and shut my mouth. It was my sophomore year and I wouldn't be returning to Harvard, but rather transferring southwest.
Dear old Ma and Da were none too happy about me leaving a highly respected Ivy League school to attend a quote "pedestrian waterhole for fornicating mouth-breathers." I found that statement harsh considering my twin cousins on my dad's side had immediately started at the University of Chicago after graduation. It was actually a highly-esteemed establishment, but nothing was ever good enough for their little girl. I was their only child, thus their only chance to bequeath their uppity values and social elitism.
My mom and I were silent for the rest of the afternoon; just the sounds of scraping cardboard boxes and the occasional clack of empty hangers haunted us. It was just the dawn of night before everything was packed into boxes, all of my possessions, both worldly and illegal.
"I can't believe this," my mom sputtered as she looked around. "My baby is leaving tomorrow."
I looked down at the box I'd falsely labeled BOOKS and my inner ego smirked. She had no idea who her "baby" really was. She and my dad, Charles - or Charlie as he preferred - were under the naive impression that I was chaste...innocent of all the sins in the world, untouched by the dangers. Little did they know about me.
Instead of offering consolation, I ignored the endearment and her sad tears. I was not one to deal with emotion well. I liked to push sadness and grief away; they had no business in my soul. Eventually Renee calmed down and Charlie came home from the office. All three of us together ate a dinner of Chinese food with classical music playing lightly in the background. Both Charlie and Renee attempted to rope me into small talk, but I mostly just listened to their back-and-forth of inane chattering and life complaints. After dinner, I excused myself to the guest room where I was assigned for the night.
I settled into the unfamiliar blanket and pillows, staring blankly at the cream painted ceiling. Although I had nine hours of my sixteen-hour trip to make in the morning, I had trained my mind and body to perform well on 'Empty'. I knew for a fact I had Ambien snuggled into the corner of my BOOKS box, but I had no desire to leave the confines of the foreign queen bed to dose myself to unconsciousness. Instead, I ran through my route in my mind until I eventually lulled to sleep.
TIT FOR TAT: Review and you'll get Charlie's POV
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