Before you start reading the story...I know it's short. I'm hoping it makes sense by the time you have read it all. I wish I had the ability to write multiple chapters, to expand the story further but I don't have the time, and I don't even think I'd be that good at writing a long story.
I had never heard so many sirens before or seen the flashing red and blue lights following behind. My heart had never beaten so fast in my life until that moment I thought I had to give up and give in to the cops. Neither I nor my passenger knew what we would return to except for angry silences from both of our parents and the others we were running from. But my heart sure had been ripped out of my chest long before that. Were these faint sirens from this same memory, or were they more close by? I didn't want to open my eyes to look. The burning sensation prolonged it, and in telling the truth, I couldn't be more grateful.
What else had happened other than abandoning Charlie on a mad whim to run away with Jacob? To run as far as I could from Forks, and all the hallucinations that had never truly kept me safe, or even sane. Was Charlie here now or did someone convince him I was dead? Am I dead?
Now, the sudden urge to vomit, rose in my throat ready to spill out of my mouth. I had to keep it in. Wherever I was, I had to keep it in. If it had all been some dream, and I was still lying next to Jake thinking of how sharing this bed every night made my skin crawl, he'd sense my stirring and surely lash out. Or he'd pull me closer to him only to remember I'd been working hours before, pleasing customers as was my line description, and then he would squeeze my ribs.
I'd always argued to him, how else could we earn our stay? Who else would have been generous to put two runaways up? The money from selling two bikes had brought us little. Even though he once felt impressed with his mechanical skills, the buyers felt different. The last buyer he had sold to was on the first night I knew what it was like to be physically hit, by someone that I would do anything for. I would have done anything for him.
The second time happened after the boss at the strip joint carried me home. It was the first night at work, where the smell of smoke, beers, and the leers from over eager men became too much. Feeling dizzy I'd tried to walk towards the bar area to take a break, but in the heels I was expected to wear, I'd tripped. It was either the dizziness or clumsiness, but either way I barely had finished my shift before being carried home.
At once everything seemed impossible. Life was harder and not at all easy to escape from than it once was when in Forks. Having to keep up pretences Jacob was who I would always be with even if there was a choice between him and Edward. Having to smile and please customers whilst they clawed at my body. Waking up to a boy who'd heard another boy's name called out in my sleep. All of this meant lead to scars which existed on my skin, instead of only lingering over a broken heart.
Am I still alive? This can't be right. The mattress underneath felt more comfortable than the usual mattress. The heat in the room was more stifling compared to the cold bedsit I occupied, so surely I was somewhere safe? If I could only open my eyes without fearing another punch, a glare, the look of distrust and raging jealousy, then I'd be able to get a grip on my bearings.
I feel exhausted. This was an all too familiar feeling. One that I needed to cope with better, as the last clear memory was of another beating when he'd heard me call out for Edward for the first time. All the other times I wished Edward could hear me and come to rescue me, but I'd accepted he didn't want to know me, otherwise he wouldn't have left.
"I'm here." His voice was like an angel. I smiled.
"No you're not," I frowned wishing this was anything but a dream "I'm hallucinating."
"Bella, love," there he was "Open your eyes. Open your eyes, for me, love." For him, I opened them. I'd feel the consequences later when the real person in my life hit out. As I opened my eyes, I was sure the only important image would be of Edward. He was everything. He was important. But the comfortable mattress I was on top of, a light room that I couldn't recognise, and the sound of the ocean baffled me.
That is when it hit me. He was real. My last memory wasn't exactly my last memory before waking up somewhere foreign. He'd come back for me, and all I could see now was Edward. Instead of a burning gold set of eyes, Edward had blood red eyes.
Please review, let me know what you think of the story idea I had floating around, and the writing too! If you have any questions that you want answering, for example, where are they - what has happened to Jacob, feel free to ask!