Even though I had known this was coming, that in no way made it better.
They say that it isn't about the destination; it is about the journey, I think that now I know the true meaning of that phrase. You know that the inevitable is coming for you, the journey merely postpones that. But when the destination of your journey is so terrible, sometimes the journey - as horrible as it is - can prepare you in some ways. Sometimes.
However, nothing could have ever have prepared me for this. When the inevitable is coming for you, there is no one that you can trust. I have learnt this, and so many over things from this journey. I have found strength, life, and the true meaning of the word 'love'. Maybe there was some force that made sure not everything was agony, that made sure that you had some happiness. This final destination was horrible, but I wouldn't trade what I have found and disscovered from it for anything.
They had come for us. They had come for me.
As if our thoughts were shared - which they practically were, we both shrank into each other, not only for warmth, but for comfort, just curled up against each other, listening to each others breathing and watching our own breaths make beautiful swirling clouds in the freezing morning air.
We were waiting.
No matter what the outcome of this would be, my whole life would change.
If we had the advantage, we would have a great duty, a duty that we could not shake off. We would be murderers.
If we lost, I would die. We would all die. The world would revolve around as if we were never here, but my world would stop, along with at the worlds of twenty-two people, at the minimum.
After many, many minutes of silence, we heard the sound we had known was coming.
The gentle breeze, that we knew could only mean one thing.
To someone else, someone who had a normal life, this might have meant a gust of wind, but to me it meant so much more. It meant that the danger was here, it meant that screams would soon pierce the morning, it meant that everyone I cared about was about to put their lives on the line. It meant this could be my final breath, it meant that my entire world could crumble down around me completely. It would crumble down.
But above all it meant one thing.
They were here.
Thanks for taking time to read this short preview. I really appreciate it!
I would really like to no wether you like it or not, so please reply in the comments and tell me if you want me to continue!
I was looking through some of my old photo-album.
When I was little, Alice and Rosalie had spent days on end dressing me up and taking an endless stream of pictures. It was quite clear who had chosen the clothes in which shots.
In one picture I would be wearing tiny dark navy leggings, little pale blue pumps and a white t-shirt with the words la belle rose blanche printed in a cream colored font; In the next I would be wearing a little baby-pink dress with white frills around the sleeves and the collar.
It was a strange sight – seeing me like that.
I looked so happy, so much like a normal child, with a peaceful life. Just having fun with her normal family.
I turned over and saw a picture that made my heart warm.
There was a tall boy, maybe seventeen years old. He had beautiful russet skin, and glossy black hair that was slowly crawling down to his chin. He was laughing, and there were huge laugh-lines around his eyes, but instead of making him look older they made him almost look like a twelve year old.
On his shoulders was a small girl, she was probably two years old, though it was hard to know. She had pink cheeks, and her bronze ringlets cascaded around the man’s shoulders, going down far past her back.
Jacob and me.
It’s odd – thinking about how you used to be with someone else.
On one hand, you can imagine exactly how you acted, how you felt. It seems completely normal, like you could just go back to how you were and it wouldn’t seem at all out of the ordinary.
On the other hand, every thing is impossible.
I could never even consider him just being a friend of mine; he would always be so different. Looking back at that picture, I could barely even imagine that the little girl in that picture was me.
There was more light in her eyes, I knew that mine had been extinguished a week ago, or a lifetime, as it seemed. But there was harshness to the light. Now my eyes were gentler.
I would never go back to being the girl whose best friend was just her best friend. I would be the girl whose best friend was so much more than that.
He could never be just my best friend. He would always Jacob.
you really caught the happy and sad in this chapter.
"He could never be just my best friend" vs "best friend was so much more than that"
Short and sweet.
I'm sorry for the length,
aww sweet :) this chapter was sweet
I was in the house.
Right now, Rosalie and my Mother were having an argument about whether it was safe for me to see Charlie.
Personally, I didn’t think there was much danger. Carlisle had said that he was acting similarly to how Mum had when she was a new born. This had fascinated him.
If you were more controlled when you were told what would happen first, there would be so much more control for newborns, and that meant that there would be less executions.
Apart from this being wonderful because people wouldn’t be dying needlessly, it would give the Volturi less power. The reason (according to Carlisle at least, and he was right about most things) that the Volturi had become so unstoppable was because they had power.
When he stayed there, he had noticed that every time there was an execution (or a murder, depending how you saw it) the guards would get just a bit more scared of them, treading just a little bit more lightly.
After years of people assuming that they had all the power, they finally had.
That was part of the problem.
Not many people realised how much strength the Volturi had. They had only been warned of their brutality and amazing supremacy, and each time the legend had been told it had become slightly overemphasised.
Nobody could know what they were really like, because if they ever got the chance to find out there was no chance of survival for them.
So when people thought that they had immense power, they immediately thought that it was hopeless to fight. For a few centuries this was how it had been, people not fighting because they had been told it was useless to even try to.
But now it had become reality because that was how people thought it was.
Maybe now things would be different.
I had gathered from Carlisle that them getting rid of newborns was why the Volturi were feared so much. Because newborns were so strong and fast, they were near impossible to destroy, meaning that not only did people feel scared at their obvious power, they in a way almost relied on them to get rid of the danger of losing secrecy.
It was quite clear that Volturi were beginning to crumble along with their castle.
However, even though Carlisle seemed to be with almost as much control as Mum had had, Rosalie was completely against me seeing him.
“It’s too dangerous. He’s only a few days old!” Rosalie said defiantly. Her eyebrows were concave, and they contrasted with her otherwise angry face.
“He’s her grandfather, and he has as much self control as me. And he already knew her, I didn’t. So he’s much more used to her and-"“
“It’s not safe! Of course you had self-control! She was your daughter,” said Rose, sounding quite mad now, and waving her hands in the air for emphasis.
Emmett, sensing where this was heading, walked swiftly over to her and put his arms around her waist, whispering ‘calm down’ in her ear.
“Why don’t you care about her safety,” hissed Rose, ignoring her husband, “like you said, she is your daughter, not mine! So why a I the one who feels like this?”
Mum flinched, as if Rosalie’s words were causing her physical pain.
Dad was in the corner, and before now he had ignored this conversation, but when he heard what Rose said, his brow furrowed deeply, making him look angry.
Was he angry at Rose? Or was he worried about her upsetting Mum?
I still had no idea about whether he was angry at Mum. Well, the word angry didn’t really fit in the situation.
I don’t think there is a single word to describe the way that they were. They couldn’t be angry at each other, because their love was much, much stronger than that. And anger sounded too dramatic, yet in a way, anger wasn’t serious enough.
If I didn’t know my parents, and I had just happened to hear that fight, I would say that they despised each other, put it was obvious to that they didn’t. Maybe it was because of my heightened vampire abilities, but I was able to notice the way that they weren’t trying to fight at all.
It pained them to shout each other; it was quite easy to see. Whenever Dad would say a spiteful retort, he would flinch as if it was aimed at him as well.
I don’t know how I could bare it.
Whenever you love someone enough, your pain becomes their pain, this I had learnt. And once that happens, life becomes impossible.
How can you hurt the person you love?
You are just hurting yourself even more.
Right now I felt like I didn’t want to look at her. Yet I was also fighting the urge to look away.
Why did I blame her? It was only her natural instinct as a mother to defend her child no matter what, and her immortality would only have strengthened that yearning to protect.
When she was human, weak and so irresistibly fragile, she had been so ridiculously in love with the thing that was taking her life; she had protected it even though she knew that she was probably confirming her death by doing so. She had loved the child inside her so much.
To think of a strengthened version of that incredibly intense devotion strengthened, it was no wonder she had defended her.
That thought made me wonder.
Why was she the one protecting her from me? I would never forgive myself for trying to kill my own daughter. It was so odd to think about, yet really it made some sense.
On one hand, I didn’t know how I could have ever wanted to and I had always told myself that the only reason I had wanted to kill her was to save the reason for my existence, my wife, but the hate had been so strong, equal only to the immense feeling when I first smelt Bella’s scent.
I thought the most intense feeling was hatred. But now I saw that the only thing that could make me feel that way was love.
I had loved my daughter too much.
I knew myself well enough now that I realised that I would have immediately tried to defy that love, because it was wrong. How could I love a thing that was killing the woman I loved?
Now the question was could I ever resent my daughter for something that was her nature? I’m don’t really think I could. I just needed to realise that.
Because of this knowledge, I suddenly had the strange impulse to do something I hadn’t done in what seemed like years; laugh. I looked up to see if anyone had noticed.
Alice and Jasper were standing close together; Jasper’s arms were around Alice’s shoulders, his head slightly resting on hers. Alice looked slightly frustrated, her eyebrows were deep set, and this made the rest of her face – which was smiling — seem off. Jasper however, seemed calm. His eyes were closed, his mouth just slightly curved upwards.
Rosalie was standing nose-to-nose with Bella. Her eyes were narrowed, a spark of something like disgust in her eye. Her upper lip was curved up in something that looked like a forced smile, and her teeth were gritted together.
She looked absolutely furious.
Bella’s expression was hard to explain. There were so many words to describe how she looked. Angry. Sad. Frustrated. Hurt. Desperate. None of them seemed to fit.
I tried to look at her face, to see how she as feeling, but I was lost in her eyes.
They had the look in them of someone who had died. They were blank on the outside, completely cold, unloving. You would think that she would have lived a thousand years, lost a million loves, or been without a trusted friend on for years and years, but she was only twenty-two. Not one of these things could be true.
If I didn’t know her, I would say that she was hard faced, serious. But I did know her so I knew that this was how she looked when she was sad; lonely.
Because of me.
I needed to find some way to make it up with her. But how?
I looked into my father’s eyes.
In less than a second, the bitter, harsh, cold look had completely vanished from his face. It had been replaced by hope.
Hope for what? For the future, for me, for my mother? I didn’t know. I did know however, that at that time there could be nothing wrong with hope. It meant that this wouldn’t be the end, even if we lost the fight, because there would still be that tiny flicker of life; that hope.
That’s the most fundamental characteristic about hope; it never dies.
I am very sorry about the wait! Please review!
29. By the River
I was sitting on a log by the river.
I had come out here, to the forest, to get some peace, some time with just my thoughts alone.
There was little sound, just the occasional rustle of tree leaves in the wind, and the small, rhythmic, somewhat comforting sound of the softly gushing stream at my feet.
Sunlight filtered greenly through the canopy of branches behind me, setting a hazy glow around me. He sky was barely visible through the treetops, but I was able to see a couple of grey-blue slits above me.
Thair air was odd for forks: sunny. It was exactly the right weather, warm but with a gentle breeze blowing around to stop in from being too hot.
Everything was so peaceful; calm.
This must be what meditating was like, well; I suppose this was my very own kind of meditation. I didn’t need to clear my mind; I just needed to be away from the things going through my mind.
Here I was finally able to think.
I looked back over what had happened since I knew about the fight.
Everything was so different, it was hard to believe it had only been about, what, a week? This thought stirred a memory.
Alice’s face was displaying horror. Her mouth was slightly open, and her brows were raised slightly in the center, dropping down at the corner of her eye.
Only once had I seen that expression before.
“When?” Asked Carlisle. His tone was completely flat and cold, but his eyes were closed, like he was bracing himself for the worst.
“It is very sunny, almost unnaturally bright. There should be a weather forecast for that in a week.”
In a week. In. A. Week.
I stood up, as if by doing that I might be able to escape the fact that any moment now, a fight could begin.
My heart was pounding loud in my ears, and my breathing was speeding up to an impossible rate.
Just when I thought that the time had been going slowly, it had really been going incredibly fast instead. This situation had completely thrown off my ability to judge time. How could I have misjudged the time so?
My senses were on full alert, so I caught a tiny movement in the corner of my eye. I gasped and spun around.
There was a woman in the tree. She had bright red eyes, and long hair that reached down to her back. She was perched on the top of the branch, a bright red cloak surrounding her.
Her eyes were wide, and she looked almost scared. Her lips were slightly parted, but they curved upwards now, making her look even more petrifyingly sinister. Her eyes glinted.
Before I had time to scream she was gone.
I was completely frozen.
Surely she had to be from the Volturi, and if she was here that had to mean that the rest of them were coming. Coming soon. What could I do?
Should I go back to the house and tell everyone, and risk getting in the way of the fight, or should I run? No, no, I couldn’t leave everybody. Never.
I spun around, and ran as fast as I could run back to the house. The wind rushed around me, and heat burned my forehead. I could barely see, it was like I was in a bubble. I could only notice my surroundings up to a meter away; everything else was just a blurry haze.
I caught a black dot behind me, and then I was plunged into darkness as a howl hit the morning air.
Oh family Drama! Oh no no Poor Nessie :( I hate cliffies lol. I wonder what will happen to her now.
I also hate cliff hangers, though I can't handle the suspense myself so I will probably have to update today! Thanks,
welcome and yeah lol :) welcome
JUst something for you to wonder about, the next Chapter is called 'Mountain'.
Great cliffy, now I really want to know what happened.
I loved Edward's views.
Like i said to Stay, I will update today, but probably not till the afternoon.
I'm glad you enjoyed seeing how Edward felt. I think that in the books they never show much of what he is really thinking, and since Midnight Sun was left halfway, there is still a while to find out more about him. He's a very open-ended character.