The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com
Prompt: #19 (misty cemetery)
Pen Name: SparrowNotes24
Pairing/Character(s): Edward / Bella
Word Count: 499
A rolling mist crept and crawled its way through the headstones, concealing the raggedy grass of the unkempt cemetery.
The moon was a dirty smudge in the sky, barely throwing light to guide me to my destination; still I strode with determination, carelessly walking on top of those who'd met their unfortunate fate in this dreary town.
It was eerily quiet; only the occasional flapping of wings from high in the trees interrupted the blank silence. It would change soon enough. He would be coming for me now.
I hastened my footsteps, stumbling over uneven ground and crooked tree-roots. I needed to get there before he arrived. My last chance to prove a point—to reason with him. In reality, it was his last chance before I took matters into my own hands.
The gleaming edge of the knife slicing through my skin, blood blooming like a field of poppies, was an image that became clearer every day.
I found the headstone, softened by limey moss that concealed the letters carved into my heart.
My plan was to lie down, legs stretched, arms tucked in, mirroring the position of the decaying corpse six feet below. I'd curled into myself before the second hand completed its twirl, tears of grief scorched to be freed.
The proximity to my mother, despite the light stolen from her eyes, and the knowledge Edward was close, calmed my frantic heart.
His arrival was silent but somehow deafening. I was aware of him the moment he stepped from the dark woods onto hallowed ground. My body reacting to him as it always did, like an electric storm.
"What the hell are you doing?" He didn't have to raise his voice; the gravelly anger constricting his throat was enough. "You know how dangerous it is for you to be out here."
I allowed him to pull me up until my mother's headstone supported my back. It's chill seeping through my thin jacket and causing me to shiver.
"I wanted you to see me here, Edward. This is where I'll be if you don't—"
"No, Bella. No. I won't listen to this." He ripped his fingers through his hair, standing it on end. In another time, I would have laughed at him, stepped onto my tiptoes to straighten it back to its unruly state, but instead, I shook my head.
"You will listen." The clear determination in my voice forced him to crouch on the floor beside me, tilting my chin with his finger until I could look into his eyes. Burnished even in the dark.
"This conversation is over." His stony expression caused my heart to falter, but my mind was strong. Over that I still had some control.
Leaning forward, I pressed my ice-blue lips against his red-cold, and slipped the knife from my pocket, sliding it across my throat: unstitching my skin, opening my vein. Hot blood bubbled to the surface.
I felt his teeth sink into my skin before I could breathe.