Diclaimer- Don't own twilight or the phrase "imminent death" which comes from Maximum Ride, by James Patterson, which I've have lately read.
"Bell-luh…" the angelic child's voice echoed through the barren streets—the streets that were perpetually bustling no matter how ungodly the hour.
"Bella…" her voice whispered again, light as a feather. "I know who you are, Bella…" Her uncannily innocent giggle chimed through the deafening blackness.
An icy wind blew gently above the rooftops. It felt like pointed nails scratching the chalkboard that was my spine—the hairs on the back of my neck and forearms erecting in shock. I gulped down deep lungfuls of the retched air and swallowed back the vomit that burned my insides.
"Tehehe…Don't worry Bella. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to be your friend. Your Best Friend."
"Who are you?!" I stuttered in the fiercest yell I was capable of at the moment. I surely came off as more of an angry kitten than a ferocious lion.
"I already told you, Bella. I am your friend. Don't you want to play with me?" the increasingly ominous voice whined.
"N-No! Now, you listen to me—" I cried, voice cracking—no, shattering.
"We play my games in my world, Bella. You're just my dolly. My pretty, pretty dolly…"
Before I could get a grip on her perplexing words, my entire being crashed under an intangible excruciating pain. It seared through my knotting muscles, snapped my bones into shards, ripped my organs into bloody ribbons—or so I thought.
As soon as it came, I was released from the raking claws of pure torture. I began to stand slowly, fingering my miraculously immaculate arms—no burns, no punctures, no blood.
"See? It's fun when you listen…" the voice chastised.
I couldn't think—I couldn't breathe. Nothing but pure panicked coursed through veins. I was at the devil's disposal. The adrenaline rushing through my veins felt like poison.
"That's right, Bella. Just give up. I'm the only one who cares about you, anyway. No one else could ever love a mutant like you."
"You don't love me…You're a liar," I whispered as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. She was right, though. I only existed to protect others—no one would ever protect me…
As I gave in, I felt my body go limp, lifeless.
"Is this what you wanted?" I whispered.
"No, this is!" the voice shrieked wickedly.
I felt wire-like cords encircle my wrists and ankles, binding them so rigidly that blood poured from the fresh wounds. A cry of pain escaped my lips as I felt the wires pull taut—animating me. Up and down my limbs were stretched and dropped—I was walking. I was a human marionette. A toy. A doll.
As soon as I realized what I was, I realized what I was doing. I was headed straight for the roof's ledge…and a fifty story plunge into solid concrete.
I'd reached the edge and my imminent death. I came to an abrupt halt, but I wasn't foolish enough to believe I'd been granted the gift of a longer life. I was teetering over the edge, being taunted for the voice's sadistic pleasure. I shut my eyes—I could at least pretend I would land safely in a heap of pillows…
"Let's see if the angel can fly…"
"Ah!" I awoke abruptly to the sound of my own cry. I blinked back the tears. It was a dream? Mother—
"Shit!" A man in front of me stumbled backwards with his hand shooting to stay his heart, obviously startled. What's his problem? Oh…
"I'm so sorry, sir! I must have dozed off. I've just so tired lately. Please don't tell my boss!" I begged. During the daytime, when I wasn't studying my butt off or sleeping, I worked hereat the university library. It didn't pay wonderfully, but it was slow, and after long nights fighting crime—well lets just say I couldn't be a part time babysitter or dog-walker.
According to the drool on my upper arm, it appears that I must have dozed off during my shift—well the drool and the fact that I wasn't a bloody, street-pancake…
"Listen, don't worry about it. I actually didn't want to wake you, but I needed the books…and I'm sure you'd rather I woke you than tell your supervisor." A strong, but gentle voice spoke.
I glanced up to the man I'd lately freaked out and probably drooled on—not that the drooling would be ceasing now. Why? Because the most handsome man I'd ever laid eyes on—in person, movies, magazines, or otherwise—was smirking down at me with the most charming half-perplexed, half-amused expression I'd ever seen.
"Ugh, um…hi," I stuttered—how eloquent and profound of me, I know.
He chuckled and it sounded like silver bells, and the laughter of children, and popcorn popping, and every other wonderful sound in the world, all tied into one flawless, musical package— a sexy flawless, musical package. Ah, Jeez…
I gawked, mesmerized by the flawless creature before me. He smiled down at me, emerald eyes sparkling in amusement.
"Um, my books?" he popped me a delicious half-smile and pointed gingerly toward the towering stack of hardbound texts he'd collected. He seemed a bit nervous, as if he was the caught red-handed for sleeping on the job.
"Oh, right! Yes, absolutely…right away." I blurted out as I started scanning the first book from the top of the pile. The first book was entitled Musculoskeletal Radiology Anatomy Modules. I didn't even bother to speculate what that could possibly mean, and I had a B+ in high school anatomy. This gave me a brain ache just looking at it.
The pile of books seemed to go on forever. Good thing we don't have a limit on the number you can check out…
I looked up at him after about a minute, when the pile finally seemed to be withering down to nothing. The man—or boy, or guy, or god—was rocking back and forth awkwardly on the soles of his feet. He chewed the inside of his cheek adorably as he tried vainly to feign nonchalance. I could tell he was uncomfortable—perhaps embarrassed by his mountain of literature—but for some reason his discomfort made me comfortable.
"So…" I started, not really knowing where I was headed, "Light reading, huh?"
Again, sounded his beautiful laugh and I nearly melted.
"I wish… I'm stuck doing a research paper though. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll have enough time to get through a comic book this weekend." He said wryly as he handed me his library card.
I scanned his card into the system. As usual, the computer screen kept freezing up and loading at a snail's pace, but I couldn't care less. I wanted to hear him talk more.
"Comic books?" I asked bemused. I handed him his card back and he swiftly slipped it into his wallet.
"Yes. Sadly, that's been my Friday night recently—bad guys, Spiderman, and studying. Fascinating, right?" he said drily, with a slight pout.
I giggled lightly. Not because of his admittance of a questionable to nonexistent social life, but because of how akin we were. School-nerd hermits wrapped up in the world of superheroes—except of course, mine a tad bit more daring.
"Hey…" he accused, obviously taking my laughter the wrong way. A rosy shade of pink stained the crowns of his cheeks.
"I'm sorry! I'm not laughing at you, I swear. I just found it hilarious how similar are predicaments are. My social life has pretty much gone to the dogs recently, too."
I saw relief and understanding wash his face as I handed him his receipt. It was so long I figured I'd be using a new ream of receipt paper for the next customer.
"They're due back December second." I pushed the lofty stack of books toward him.
He tentatively heaved the books into his messenger bag one at time, still hovering in his spot and taking his sweet old time. I wondered if there was something else that he needed or if he was just postponing his trip into the pouring rain outside. He should be used to the rain though. After all, this was Forks…
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" I asked warily.
His bright, hopeful eyes shot back up to mine. It seemed as though he had something on the tip of his tongue that he was struggling to wrestle down.
"I—uh, you go to school here, right?" he quickly blurted, though I had I hunch it was merely a cover for what he was about to say.
"Yeah. Um, my name's Bella." I said brightly. I was unsure of what possessed me to tack on my name at the end.
"Edward," he nodded and with a firm handshake. I giggled slightly at how professional he was acting. Still, I did enjoy holding his hand—it was strong, large, and veiny, but still soft and gentle.
"Nice to meet you, Edward," I said wryly as I examined his hand. Hey Michelangelo, I'd watch out for this guy. I think your 'David' wants his hands back…
"I'll see you around?" His eyes widened expectantly.
I wondered if he really meant it. After all, 'I'll see you around' often means 'I don't want to see you again, and I sure as hell won't make the effort to' or, in my personal history, 'Please dear God, get me away from this creeper'.
"If not, I'll be here somewhere." I whirled my index finger around to gesture to the library as a whole.
"Sounds good," he smirked, looking me straight in the eye. As he turned and left, I found my eyes trailing him out the door.
I walked away from her—I actually walked away from her.
My palms were sweating, my breaths were short, and my nerdy anxiety was through the roof. I had no idea what it was with her, but every time my gaze met her stunning brown eyes— and I mean, literally stunning, because I could barely move or breathe—my body went into chaos. My limbs grew numb with static electricity that weaved in and out of my pores. All six quarts of my body's blood were sucked from every last microscopic capillary and shot straight into my pounding heart. My chest was the world's hottest oven, firing the organs locked in my ribcage to a blackened ash.
What the hell was that?
I've seen attractive women before. I've seen gorgeous women before. And sure, I'd get nervous—feel the tingling in my chest and shoulders and the parching in my throat. But I've never felt like, like I've been hit by a missile or something, before.
This girl…there was just something about her. She was beautiful, no one could deny that, but she wasn't the typical Hollywood Barbie doll you see on the big screen or winning the Miss Universe Pageant. From afar or first glance, I'm sure many would find her plain, or pretty at best. But when you really look at her, and stare into the endless depths of emotion in her eyes, you find her interesting, entrancing, flawless— and yes I could see every last scar on her face.
I found myself wondering, almost obsessing, about her as I strolled slowly to my apartment. Was she from the area or did she live far away? Did she have a boyfriend or was she single? Was she tired from late night studying or was she more social than she claimed? And most frighteningly, where did she get those scars, and is she safe?
The possibilities were swimming in my head. Was she mauled by an animal? Did she have an abusive father or boyfriend? Had she been in an accident?
My head snapped up to deafening sirens. Multiple police cars whizzed by at full speed.
I tried to play it down in my mind. I thought that perhaps a child had gone missing or a small fight had broken out between two drunkards at a local bar.
An unmistakable sound pierced the night—two gunshots.
Most people would run as far away from the sound as possible, right? Well not me. Why? Because the clock just struck eight, and I knew who be there without an invitation.
The adrenaline flooded me. I tore my camera from case, and switched it on as I ran straight toward the sound.
A/N: I'm so excited for this story. Mucho action coming up in the next chapter. Any guesses on who the villian is?
Please review! Any suggestions, praise, or constructive criticsim is highly welcomed. I won't bit your head off. I'm not an author to go ballistic over a bit of criticism.
Thanks for reading!