A Divided Cadence
All characters, text and story lines from the Twilight Saga belong to Stephanie Meyers and any related copy right owners. I am just borrowing them briefly for non monetary purposes. No infringement is intended.
Many thanks to Project Team Beta for beta reading and corrections.
Too Slow for those who Wait,
Too Swift for those who Fear,
Too Long for those who Grieve,
Too Short for those who Rejoice;
But for those who Love,
Time is not.
For Katrina's Sun-dial - Henry Van Dyke
Prologue – Regrets
I'm honestly terrified. Can't catch my breath, crying tears that won't stop, sick-to-my-stomach, terrified.
I had hoped I might find hidden strength to face this with courage and dignity, like a biblical martyr or fictional heroine from a book or movie. As I sit waiting on my knees in the mud of the forest floor a sobbing, snivelling mess, I can see the foolishness behind that wish. Fear doesn't really lend itself to the creation of dignity– at least not for me. It simply is what it is.
I guess all anyone has at the end are memories. I will hold onto mine for the time I have left; every important one and every silly one. I let them run through my mind as tears track down my cold cheeks. The faces of Charlie, Renee, Phil, Jacob, Billy, Rachel and Rebecca. Moments from my life in Phoenix with Renee and every school holiday I spent in La Push and Forks with Charlie. I wish I had tried harder to pay more attention to the important people in my life while I was able.
There it is – a new regret– but I have no time to linger on it, or any of the others. I'm out of time to grieve for only twenty years lived, a college course that will never be finished, friendships that won't have the opportunity to thrive, and for no first love or last love.
Perhaps they will make it quick. Perhaps they will draw it out. Perhaps they are waiting in the darkness of the forest enjoying my misery. I have no idea. I guess, in the end, it doesn't matter: the hows, or the whens, or the whys of it.
If I can take one truth out of the many ways I am finding sorrow rather than peace in this situation, it is that I lived my life and was loved. Perhaps that is enough to be able to say that dying for the people that I love doesn't seem like such a waste; even if I can't walk towards my death with courage. I'm not stupid – I don't want to die.
So here is my self pitying, self epitaph. I am Bella Swan, the most ordinary of ordinary girls who got dragged into the most extraordinary of situations by being in the wrong place at the right time. I died trying to save the people who loved me, without knowing if my sacrifice will succeed.
I am not brave, or thankful, or at peace. I am not a warrior, a martyr, or a heroine. I am simply me, and this is my end.
Song for the Chapter (if you want one) Jill Andrews – Rust or Gold