Post by Edward Cullen on Dec 13, 2012 19:21:16 GMT -5
It was gone. Edward felt the weak paper, that was just seconds before regaling news of the town of Forks, crumble and disintegrate. The words on that paper had disappeared, but were still true. He would forever be tormented by the printed headlines. But, now, in the truest sense of the word they were gone. Gone was a word that could describe many things. His hopes, his dreams they too had crumbled with that paper. Edward scoffed at himself. As if he had the right to dream, he couldn't even sleep. Somewhere deep inside a voice—that was not the errant thought of one of his family members—said, what did you expect Edward? Did you really think there would any future with both of you? Think Edward a soft voice commanded, this was your decision, it was for her good.
Edward wrapped his arms around his knees and drew his legs closer trying to contain the gaping pain that was now eating him outward. Glancing at the wall where a pile of dust lay in lieu of that filmsy newspaper it was easy to remember the headlines. They were forever clear behind his eyes. Hospital on the Lookout for New Doctor, Sale at Costco, and finally a tiny innocuous box: Bella Swan Found. It was amazing what that simple three word phrase could mean. Seeing it in print, knowing she was safe, made all the difference. But, there was still the fact that she had disappeared. Not for long, the paragraph mentioned. But long enough for her father, the local policeman, to contact the newspaper, his mind mused. Edward imagined Bella's blushing and mortified reaction to the attention. Wrong. That was a terrible idea, that pain which was eating away now burned his body. It tore through his veins and made him push the thought out of his head, rapidly. Edward gazed at the door frame looking more like a lace lattice than a piece of wood. The putty like structure had been perforated by the times his fingers had dug into its frame for support. He felt like he would collapse. All of a sudden a new wave of pain overthrew him as he remembered our discussion.
"Bella you'll be the death of me, I swear you will." he had said, her reply was, "You're indestructible." How true. He was indestructible, a heartless, cold-blooded monster. He didn't deserve her. She had been wrong. He wasn't indestructible, he had felt enough pain to last a person centuries, but this dull hollow feeling was different. It felt awful. It felt as though his heart, he grimaced wryly, though non-existent had been ripped out.
The pain boiled over once again consuming Edward and he gripped the frame of the door for support. Edward tried to switch his mind to a less painful venue. He focused on the thoughts of my his worried family. If he had the energy he would have rolled his eyes. Their concern was quite touching, he thought sarcastically. The only comment that annoyed him slightly was Emmett's Why did we have to move?. He internally groaned, no doubt missing the bear population of Washington. Edward was not in any mood to remind him the hundreds of times they had to move when he was a newborn. Countless times they had moved for my family's sake, now it was his turn. They owed him that much. Their pity pricked at the serrated edges of his missing heart. Alice's reaction was the exception, she seemed smug. There was something in her manner. She had been very careful with her thoughts, but I could guess what she was seeing. Probably me eating a couple herds of deer in a fit of anger. Why should she hide that?
The burning thirst in Edward's throat was only second to the pain that now gripped him. He decided he would only hunt when he absolutely needed to. Hunting just reminded him of the things that would forever separate Bella and himself. He shook his head, Alice and her visions. At least now the vision she seen of Bella, he gripped the wall, as one of us would never happen. Somewhere deep inside him he felt relieved. She—saying her name was too much for Edward to handle—deserved better. It would not be fair to condemn her to a nightless existence like his own. She would get over it, as she had told her mom, he was no more than a crush. Anguish again swelled. Ah, but she was much more than that to him. Edward started to remember the lie he had fed her about distractions, but stopped. How far was he willing to drive himself? He collapsed in a heap and let the burning pain overtake him.
Time ebbed and remained moving, the flames continuously licked that jagged hole, but as always time continued. Ticking its never-ending beat, and he could hear the wheels and gears of the tiny clock whirring. Like the pain it was never ending.
Edward wrapped his arms around his knees and drew his legs closer trying to contain the gaping pain that was now eating him outward. Glancing at the wall where a pile of dust lay in lieu of that filmsy newspaper it was easy to remember the headlines. They were forever clear behind his eyes. Hospital on the Lookout for New Doctor, Sale at Costco, and finally a tiny innocuous box: Bella Swan Found. It was amazing what that simple three word phrase could mean. Seeing it in print, knowing she was safe, made all the difference. But, there was still the fact that she had disappeared. Not for long, the paragraph mentioned. But long enough for her father, the local policeman, to contact the newspaper, his mind mused. Edward imagined Bella's blushing and mortified reaction to the attention. Wrong. That was a terrible idea, that pain which was eating away now burned his body. It tore through his veins and made him push the thought out of his head, rapidly. Edward gazed at the door frame looking more like a lace lattice than a piece of wood. The putty like structure had been perforated by the times his fingers had dug into its frame for support. He felt like he would collapse. All of a sudden a new wave of pain overthrew him as he remembered our discussion.
"Bella you'll be the death of me, I swear you will." he had said, her reply was, "You're indestructible." How true. He was indestructible, a heartless, cold-blooded monster. He didn't deserve her. She had been wrong. He wasn't indestructible, he had felt enough pain to last a person centuries, but this dull hollow feeling was different. It felt awful. It felt as though his heart, he grimaced wryly, though non-existent had been ripped out.
The pain boiled over once again consuming Edward and he gripped the frame of the door for support. Edward tried to switch his mind to a less painful venue. He focused on the thoughts of my his worried family. If he had the energy he would have rolled his eyes. Their concern was quite touching, he thought sarcastically. The only comment that annoyed him slightly was Emmett's Why did we have to move?. He internally groaned, no doubt missing the bear population of Washington. Edward was not in any mood to remind him the hundreds of times they had to move when he was a newborn. Countless times they had moved for my family's sake, now it was his turn. They owed him that much. Their pity pricked at the serrated edges of his missing heart. Alice's reaction was the exception, she seemed smug. There was something in her manner. She had been very careful with her thoughts, but I could guess what she was seeing. Probably me eating a couple herds of deer in a fit of anger. Why should she hide that?
The burning thirst in Edward's throat was only second to the pain that now gripped him. He decided he would only hunt when he absolutely needed to. Hunting just reminded him of the things that would forever separate Bella and himself. He shook his head, Alice and her visions. At least now the vision she seen of Bella, he gripped the wall, as one of us would never happen. Somewhere deep inside him he felt relieved. She—saying her name was too much for Edward to handle—deserved better. It would not be fair to condemn her to a nightless existence like his own. She would get over it, as she had told her mom, he was no more than a crush. Anguish again swelled. Ah, but she was much more than that to him. Edward started to remember the lie he had fed her about distractions, but stopped. How far was he willing to drive himself? He collapsed in a heap and let the burning pain overtake him.
Time ebbed and remained moving, the flames continuously licked that jagged hole, but as always time continued. Ticking its never-ending beat, and he could hear the wheels and gears of the tiny clock whirring. Like the pain it was never ending.
