Chapter Text
The ride home after school was dull. The streets were full of people right outside the parking lot, but they were scarce the closest I got to our house.
I know that Charlie isn't coming home until later today, he had told me so in the morning before I headed out. I silently appreciated it, though I know I have all the bear sights to thank for it. He told me days before to stay out of the woods, not that I had any plans to go there anyway. Too many memories I don't want to bring to the surface are attached to the place. He's still worried about me though, I feel it.
I can't blame him for that, I can only blame myself. I spent months inside my own head, torturing myself, thinking over and over again about the same thing, the same person.
And for what?
I gripped the steering wheel just thinking about it. I still can't quite stop my own thoughts from hurting me, it still hurt a lot, but not for the same reasons it did before.
He broke my heart, I know that much. I was madly in love with him, would still be if he was here, if he had never left, but I wasn't thinking straight back then. I realized a little too late that I was trapped in a spider's web. He had come to me with sweet words about how much he loved me, about being alone, waiting for me for so long, of not being able to stay away now that he found me, of soulmates... I believed that, all of it, I just remember thinking that, if he said so, if someone so beautiful and kind believed it to be true, then it must be. To me, my feelings were nothing but confirmation of what he was saying. I fell fast, and hard. I thought he did, too, but he hadn't.
Mates can't stay away from each other without suffering, without being miserable, I know that much, and I was at first... For the first three months, I was just a shell of my usual self, wandering around expressionless and just doing as I was told without a second thought. I really believed that I had everyone fooled until Charlie slapped some sense into me.
He sat me down one morning, coffee cup in hand, all business. Placed a full plate of eggs, beacon and pancakes that I hadn't realized he had made for me by waking up earlier than usual. He pointed at the food, and just said, "eat". He looked at me until I took a small bite of eggs, and hell broke loose.
I didn't go to school that day, he didn't go to work either, and we had a talk. About how life keeps going, the clock keeps moving. About me being too young, just eighteen.
"I know how a broken heart feels, Bells" He said, "but you're so young... You used to talk with me, and laugh, and had plans and went to watch movies. You used to sing while cooking, and I would come home to you reading in the garden, full of leaves and green in your jeans. All you do now is go to school, prepare something to eat, and lock yourself inside your room."
I had said nothing. Just looked at my half eaten plate getting cold. He kept going. "I understand more than anyone how you feel, don't you think? And you are my little girl, you are just like me. I am not trying to tell you to forget, but at least try to move on, do things, get your head clear, distract yourself, try to talk with people..."
Of course I knew he was right. I knew he was worried, he still is, though I suppose I got better after that attention call. He spent the whole day with me, not allowing me to go back to my room until it was nighttime. We made lunch together, we watched two of my favorite movies, he asked about school, about which book I had been reading, about my friends, not even once allowing me to shut up and go back to the shell. He forced me to stay present, and talk, and look at him.
When I got to bed I realized I couldn't go back to shuting down, didn't want to. I didn't have nightmares that night, and the next morning Charlie looked happy, proud of himself even. He made breakfast again, and made it a point for us to always spend some time together during the day. I wasn't feeling perfectly fine and the nightmares came back the next night, but I knew that it was better than it had been. I wasn't numb anymore, and that showed. It was progress.
But not being numb anymore carried with it me looking at things from a new perspective. All I did for months was revive over and over in my head every single precious moment with Edward, which was the equivalent of stabbing myself to the heart over and over again. It was stupid, and now I can admit it and understand it. All I could think about was his whispered promises, his lips, his arms around me, the softness of his skin, they way I thought his eyes shone at the sight of me, like I was actually worth something. I was way too caught up in the good to notice that, well, our relationship wasn't just about that.
Edward was controlling, had been every single day we spent together. I should've realized that when he showed his dislike for any boy what tried to talk to me while he himself wasn't even sure if he was going to talk to me or not, and he showed it. Acted on it.
He constantly cared for me like I couldn't do so for myself, always telling me that he didn't know how did I managed to survive without him for seventeen years, always acting like I couldn't do the smallest thing for myself. He always knew better, he could always do it better than me.
Always disregarding my words, my opinions, my thoughts. He has always been frustrated because he can't get inside my head, but every single time I voiced my thoughts out loud I was being disregarded, like I didn't even know myself enough to know what I wanted, what my own opinion was.
I always noted those things, but was quick to forgive and forget as soon as he sent a few sweet words my way.
I should've known. I should've known they were lying, that they were just playing with me. Like a human pet. James had been right after all, I was a pet. How could they trully care for me, a clumsy, stupid, lovesick and plain human? I am nothing compared to them, of course they had been just having their fun. They are animal drinkers, yes, but that doesn't mean they can't be cruel anyway, and every day that passes is harder and harder to convince myself that they are good, that they wouldn't do that. But then I remember how Alice always disregarded everything I said and wanted, how she constantly took me out of my comfort zone to force me to do things I would never do of my own volition, dressing me, puting make up on me, dragging me along wherever she went, ignoring my protests. The others had been a little more distant, but perhaps they didn't find the new toy fun, and they had been all too quick to always force on me their wishes and wants, never giving me the space to voice my discomfort.
And even if I wasn't a pet, even if they did care for me like a family would... They still left. They left me behind. I don't know what's worst.
I stopped the truck in front of the house and quickly got out, the sky growing darker by the minute. It will rain soon. The keys moved in my hand before I opened the door to an empty house, just as I had left it in the morning. I went straight to the phone, cheking if I had any voicemails.
I found myself disappointed even though deep down I knew that nothing was going to be there. Not a single word from Jake still.
My dad had been ecstatic when he learned of our friendship. Noted the way Jake looked at me, our bickering, how I carried myself around him. Had been happy to hear that I had been learning a few things on how to fix the truck myself, how I'd spent more and more time at his house. I remember the few nights in which he joined me at Jake's after work to have dinner with Billy, too.
I really felt like I was slowly getting better, actually forgetting that dull ache in my chest. When Jake was around, it didn't exist at all. It was still there when I was alone, but nothing I couldn't manage, nothing I couldn't ignore in favour of sleeping, or going through my day.
Then we had that fight, he thought Mike was a creep who had been incredibly disgusting thoughout the night, and we argued about it while Mike himself was throwing up in the bathroom not far from us. He hasn't talked to me since, though Billy said he was just sick. Then I go to his house only to find him perfectly well and standing, his hair short and a brand new tattoo to match. He wasn't sick, he was just ignoring me. I couldn't even be mad at Billy, the look in his eyes when I looked at him through the window said everything I needed to know. He felt sorry for me, it isn't his fault.
I just left, didn't even say much. I tried to talk to him, he told me to fuck off, basically, so I just up and left. Still, I had hoped that, at some point, he would reach out.
It's been two weeks.
I reached the stairs and headed straight to my room, but I stopped midstep when I immediately noticed that the door is open, though I remember clearly closing it in the morning. For a second I try to decide what to do, first thing that came to mind was to call Charlie, but I immediately felt silly. It's just an open door, surely I just forgot to close it myself.
I slowly walked through the corridor until I could peek inside. Everything looks the same at first, the chair full of clothes, undone bed, scatered books in the small desk... But then I saw it. A decently sized mirror in my wall beside the window, with a note attached to it.
I walked to it slowly, my bag forgotten on the floor close to the door. I looked at the mirror in detail.
The frame was made out of wood, with some carvings of bears, wolves and other animals and details. It looks handmade. I took the note and unfolded it with care.
I talked with Billy about the mirror incident and he told me someone in the res might have some nice ones. They came to the station at lunch and I bought and brought this one home. Hope you like it.
- Dad'
I looked at it again, catching my reflection by accident. I immediately looked through the window.
I broke my last mirror with my own two hands and an umbrella, but I couldn't say that to him. I told him it fell while I was distracted and looking for something, didn't even ask for a new one. It isn't strange for Billy and Harry to join my dad at lunchtime by the station, guess this time they also brought this along.
I don't know how to feel about it. I don't want to break it, like I did for his predecessor. It feels wrong, and I don't actually want to do it... But I don't want to see my reflection, either.
The cullens used me for entertainment, I am certain of it. I wasn't part of the family, they didn't love me and never planed on me becoming a permanent adition to the coven... I was just a pet, used and discarded like a puppy brought home on christmas and abandoned when it stopped being funny, or cute. But I can't hide to myself the fact that I was using them, too.
I wanted to be a vampire and I still want to be one. I used to tell myself that I just wanted to be with Edward forever, that I wanted to be on equal ground, that I was just tired of feeling weak, I didn't want to keep feeling like a flaw, a weakling. I believed it, would tell myself and them that that is what I wanted and why.
But they're gone now. My affections for them gone, too, and I still find myself daydreaming about it. About being like them, strong, beautiful, capable. Even when they were here I felt like I was out of place, like something was missing, something wasn't right. I felt that way my whole life, and I only realized it fully when I heard the word vampire come out of Edward's lips.
That is what was missing. Looking back, even though I did fell in love with Edward, I wonder if there was something else in me urging me to get closer to them all, to look at them, to discover the truth.
I am meant to be a vampire. My innate gift, this feeling in my chest, the thing I knew didn't feel quite right my whole life... I recognize it for what it is now. I am meant to turn. I have to be. I want to be.
But that's over now, my only chance is long gone. Sometimes I'd give in and think about different ways to do it, to get what I want... A nomad, perhaps, though finding one is hard enough, getting them to change me an entirely different matter.
I know about Vampire royalty, Edward had talked about them, but I don't remember much, in love as I was at the time all I could see was him. I faintly remember a painting, a group of men in some sort of balcony, though I had no recollection of names nor faces, let alone locations.
Getting someone else to change me was an idea doomed to fail from the beginning. Still, I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror, not anymore. Not knowing that I'll never see what I want to see. I will never be pleased with my reflection.
I silently took the fairly sized mirror and left it in the corner of my room, in such a way that I couldn't look at myself not even in passing, nor by accident, but enough for Charlie to see and be satisfied with it's position.
I went back to the empty kitchen and drank a small glass of water before immediately grabing my bag to do some homework.