Nostalgicmiss Week 3 Entry: Endless Dream

Nostalgicmiss' Choice: Both

Title:

Endless Dream

It was the same every night, the sea air that seemed to keep the birds gliding in mid air as they screamed out their constant dissent. The light always white, always blinding kept me in the shadows, him in the forefront but we still reached for one another. Hoping - always so full of hope as we reached across the fissure of rocks. Fissure was an understatement, it was so much bigger than that. It felt like a whole lifetime away, but I was too afraid to look down.

The breeze licked around me, my hair wrapping around my throat as though it were trying to cut off any oxygen getting to me, but I could breathe.

I was calling his name, but my voice had no volume, just gentle sighs replacing the lilting vowels and consonants. I felt as though I was losing him, the void between us growing and crumbling as it fell into the silent crashing waves below us. Everything was so muted because he was there.

He was there.

The light, brighter than anything else surrounding me was ebbing as though dancing to it's own song. A silent song that seemed to match the beat of my heart. It picked up as my fear became palpable, it breathed it's own breaths through my mouth as I realized I was losing him for good.

This was where it always turned, this was where the light and the darkness bled together to show me the picture I refused to see. I didn't know why I continued to shout and scream at the man that was lit up like a beacon in front of me. His hand was still reaching for me, but his head was turning to the light, the small smile growing into an angelic smile on his full familiar lips.

I wanted to be able to call out his name so he would look at me, but the muted sound that fell from my lips didn't carry over the growing distance between us. It was then that I tried to move, tried to step forward into the light with him so he wouldn't leave me. I couldn't move though, my feet were like lead weights melted to the spot that held me away from him against my will.

Panic became my only companion in the cold shadow of his glorious light. I knew what this was, I knew what was transcending before my eyes. There was never any stopping it, I knew it the moment his arm fell to his side. He gave me one last look, his eyes full of sorrow but not for himself. No, I can see the sorrow is reserved for me as I stand welded to the spot screaming silence at him.

Everything went silent, the birds, the muted sound of the ocean and even my breaths. Even my own thoughts left me as his lips parted for the first time.

"Don't give up, baby. Live, live your life everyday. I'll be waiting for you."

A solitary tear ran silently down my cheek as my throat closed over with my silent sobs. I wanted to scream don't leave me, I wanted to scream take me with you. Conflicting emotions tearing apart my heart like the expanse that lay between us.

I wake up screaming, finding my voice as the gasps of air filter down past the lump in my throat. I know it won't belong before my bedroom door is thrown open and my best friend comes stampeding in here. She does every night because I wake up like this every night.

I see the light before I hear her footfalls and I try to regain my breath and sanity in the darkness of my room, but it's no use. His name is still on my lips, his face still behind my eyelids, his voice ringing in my ears.

"Jo, are you alright?" Jennifer asks as she reaches my bed and perches on the edge.

Am I alright? Will I ever be alright? For now I shake my head, because I am so far from sanity I'm scared. He's gone, he's been gone for three months and yet the nightmares plague me every night. They never change, they never fail. They are the one constant in my life.

"He's gone," I say my voice breaking as the restraint completely crumbles and I let go. My body folds in half as my heart tears into pieces of shattered lifeless shards. I can feel the hole in my chest just as sure as I can feel Jennifer's hands brushing the raven strands of hair down my back.

Jennifer is silent as I fall apart. She knows there's nothing she can say that will fix this. Yes, he is gone, but I should have been more prepared, I knew the risks, I knew the pain that would come if the treatment failed, yet I had wanted to be his strength, the shoulders to carry his burden so he could concentrate on getting well again.

Even with the burden I had accepted, it had not happened. His body had rejected the treatment and they gave him only weeks to survive, yet I foolishly held on to hope as though it were my right, as though I could create my own divine intervention because I loved him so much.

I would never regret those years we had together. He taught me how to love, how to live and see each new day as something to be cherished. I lived for him, and only him now. Fighting the pain that would make it so easy to give up, so I could do the things we always talked about doing together.

Jen picks me up from the bed as my sobs subside. I know what we're going to do, mainly because it was my idea to begin with.

"You ready to put this away tonight?" she asks me, knowing that this is the only time I allow myself to grieve. I nod my assent as she sits me at the small writing desk.

I tear a small piece of paper from the notebook and write the words I write after I breakdown. It's the only words I know to use. It's the words that say everything for me because I know this isn't what he would want me to do.

I'm sorry.

Jenn does her part and takes the picture to put in the album with the rest of the pictures. I will continue to breathe for him, I will do everything on the life list he wrote for me. All but one demand will be fulfilled on that thing. Jen kisses my forehead before pushing me back to bed and encouraging me to sleep and that tomorrow is another day.

Left in the darkness I whisper goodnight to the man I know will wait for me. The man that I love.

Kimmydon Week 3 Entry: One Way

Kimmydon's Choice: Pic 1

Title:

One Way

Another sweltering hot day in this stinking city. My skin feels like it's covered in a slick of slime - dust mingled with sweat. Could I feel more disgusting?

My hair is short, thankfully. God bless Lisa for counseling me to cut it. The thought of my thick black ponytail is enough to make me pant.

My halter leaves my shoulders and arms open to the air, but that also means open to the grime. A train pulls out of the station just as I reach the platform, sending another cloud of grit into the air. I look at my plum painted toes.

"Fucking damn."

That was my train. So much for getting to work on time. Ben said he was going to fire me the next time I was late. Thank God the cinema was my second, crappier job. It required me to go home for my uniform after a day of doing what I loved, guiding tours of historic buildings and landmarks. Occasionally a bratty child or particularly ornery senior, the kind who feels the need to let us all know how it was in his day, which is not actually as far back as the stories I try to tell, make my job less than perfect. Still, it beat the crap out of filling cups and buckets with sugar and grease. Even so, the cinema came with perks, perks like air conditioning.

I turn at the sound of another cuss. A man with skin the exact shade I love my morning coffee stands on the bottom step. He walks to my side, his messenger bag between us.
"That was Northbound, wasn't it?" His voice is warm and mellow. On a day when I'm not wearing the city's shit on my skin, it would have had me fondly remembering my trip to Costa Rica. Now it just makes me feel sweatier.

"Yep. I'm fired." I pull my bottle of water from my bag.

"Huh. I'm single." He isn't looking at me.

I scoff. "Not the first train you've missed," I assume.

"Nope. She wasn't the girl of my dreams anyway. Too needy." He looks at me now and smirks. "You don't seem too broken up about the job."

"Nah. It was a part-time pocket liner. I'll be living off cereal for a few weeks until I find another." I shrug.

"Damn. I wish Hannah was like you. She'd be whining at me to let her stay at my place, lend her money..." He looks to the tracks again, then back at me. "I think I'm glad I missed that train."

I smile and swallow more water.

"Do you ever take the train south?"

"Yeah. I do tours all over the city."

"Tours, eh? What do you charge?"

I smirk and cap my water. "You can pay me in food," I suggest. "Dinner?"

"You aren't even going to try to go to work?"

"You aren't even going to try to patch things up?"

He snorts. "Touché."

"You'll understand if I'd rather take the train north. I should probably shower before going anywhere." I wipe a hand over my face.

He runs a finger down my bare arm. I had thought I was hot before. His finger feels like a brand on my skin. The trail in the grit and grime reveals my pale pink, slightly sunburned skin.

"There a grocer near your place?"

My eyes narrow.

"I could cook while you shower." He smiles.

"If by cooking you mean chopping, I'm in. Please, no actual heat."

He chuckles and puts a hand around my waist. "Only of the chili variety," he says in a lusty tone.

"Spicy," I murmur, turning into him.

A train pulls into the station, blowing a new billow of dirt at us. I reflexively tuck my head into his shoulder. I feel his breath in my ear as he does the same.

I don't step far from him, keeping my hand on his arm as I enter the car.
"But this one is going south," he protests.

"For now." I pull him onto the seat, straddling him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

He tastes like my morning coffee too.

Hev99 Week 3 Entry: Diving for Pearls

Hev99's Pick: Pic 2

Title:

Diving For Pearls

I stood staring at the small red house, my unrecognizable eyes glazing over with impossible tears as long forgotten memories tore at the embers of my heart. A perfect house, complete with white picket fence, skin- deep marriage and two point four children. The bright red wood paneling, which fronted the house, was kept in perfect condition. Every summer my father would spend a full weekend up a ladder painting it, keeping the façade impeccable, just as he kept the pretence of a happy loving family.

The house was faded now, the paint peeling and falling away after who knew how many years of neglect. The once perfectly maintained lawn and flowerbeds were now uncared for. The grass had grown so tall that it was nearly at my waist, and the flowerbeds were so overgrown with weeds that it would take a skilled gardener days to clear them. But I could still clearly see it the way it once was.

Red house, white shutters, just the way my mother always wanted. The house my father provided for her, to win her heart. They were foolish; they ought to have known that a house alone cannot create a happy marriage, a happy family.

They had one great joy in their lives, one perfect thing that was the glue that held the family together. Of course, when the glue was removed all that was left were loose fragments with nothing to keep them from floating apart. So float apart they did, with no direction, no sense of anything really, anything but the grief that tore them apart and left me watching on helplessly, wondering what was so wrong with me that I could not be the glue.

But she was everything that I wasn't. She was little with long, golden hair that flowed down her back like spun silk, and perfect wide eyes the color of cornflowers in summer. Her wide smile could light up a room and frequently did, her sweet laughter ringing out through the hallways, bringing sunshine into everybody's lives.

She was sunshine and lollipops, sugar and spice, all the things that little girls were supposed to be made of.

Supposed to be.

Venom prickled at my eyelids in the place of tears as I recalled the day my father brought her home from the hospital, his eyes alight and gazing at her in a way he had never once stared at me. She already had soft tufts of bright blonde hair poking out of the blanket she was tightly swaddled in. My father had shooed me out of the way, as I tried to get a peek into the bundle of blankets, desperate to see what could be so special that he would look at it so tenderly.

I had gone back to what I was doing, playing with an old doll in the corner of the room, absent-mindedly moving the worn out toy while keeping my eyes fixed on where he was rocking her gently in his arms, the soft sounds of Pearl's A Singer crooning from his mouth as he steadfastly refused to take his eyes off her.

As she grew up, she proved to be everything that I wasn't. Every little thing that I failed to be - sweet, pretty, funny and good natured - she oozed, while I continued on, largely unnoticed, the quiet one, the one who always had her nose in a book, the one with the thick red hair and freckles who paled in comparison to her perfect sister. I shrank back into the shadows - the perfect place for somebody who nobody wanted to see - and let her shine, the way she was obviously supposed to.

Pearl. Everybody's favorite little girl. Immortalized as a seven year old with bright golden pigtails, cornflower eyes and the fluffy pink dress with too many layers, which she was wearing the day she left us.

The whole town mourned her as though they had lost a great head of state or war hero. Nobody used their cars for weeks after Mr Jameson's old rusty Ford Cortina hit her as she skipped into the road. It was the car's fault, you understand, not her's. Never her's. She didn't look where she was going. She went everywhere with that skipping rope. The skipping rope my father bought for her the day she impressed the whole town with her piano recital. The skipping rope he burned to ashes along with the broken up fragments of her cherished instrument, the sad moans and squeals of the strings crying out as he bashed it to pieces with his axe.

The dense smoke had filled the air, choking the air out of my lungs as my mum begged for him to stop, tearing at his arms desperately as he swung the axe at the piano blindly, again and again, his eyes unfocused and blurred with tears as he refused to stop until each and every piece of the piano was broken apart.

When the axe swung too far, the thick wooden handle catching my mum on the side of her face, sending her crashing to the ground, her hand clutched over her bleeding face, I knew that it was over. The fabrication of a picture perfect family had come crashing down around us as my parent's less than loving marriage could no longer hold up under the strain of losing one child and still being stuck with the one that if they were honest with themselves they would rather have buried in that tiny coffin.

I climbed over the low picket fence my father had painstakingly erected around the house at my mother's insistence. 'A home is not a home without a white picket fence,' she had teased as he came in at the end of the day, sweaty and disgruntled about what he considered a pointless and time wasting task. It should have been obvious right from those early days, two people with so little in common could never agree on enough things to make a marriage work. In fact, as far as I could see the only thing that they ever did manage to agree on was that Pearl was the most beautiful, perfect child they could ever have wished for, and that both their worlds ended the day she died. My fingers trailed softly over the dry, peeling paint of the blue mailbox that stood, leaning sadly towards the ground, the number 43 in white paint barely visible now, the letters and cards that had once laid within just a distant memory now.

My fingers trailed through the tall, dry grass, the soft rustling sound breaking the dead silence, which had shrouded the place since I arrived. I fought my way through the jungle of weeds and plants, which had all tangled together in protest at lack of care, and made it around to the back of the house where the old porch swing still sat, its joints rusted, creaking and groaning with age. I sat tentatively, my keen ears listening out for any sign that the old metal couldn't take my weight. My mind swam with the memory of another time, another day when I sat right here, my legs curled up and my chin resting on my knees as I stared vacantly out at the garden.

"Hello, Victoria," his soft voice had pierced the silence, as he came and sat beside me. The strange man whom I had never laid eyes on before, sat beside me and placed his hand on my arm comfortingly. The pain I ought to have felt at the death of my father instead hit me as guilt for my lack of emotion. When you lose your father, you cry; that's how it works. And yet I couldn't shed one single solitary tear for him. I was twenty-two years old the day he died, my last living relative, yet I felt nothing. Nothing but an overwhelming sense of emptiness that these were the people who had given me life, yet they never gave me any reason to believe that they didn't regret it.

This man, this stranger sat by my side for hours as I stared vacantly at the perfectly manicured lawn with the color-coordinated flowerbeds. He didn't say anything, he just sat with me until the sun went down and I started to shiver, my teeth chattering loudly in the evening chill. His body shifting beside me pulled me from my non-existent thoughts as he shrugged out of his black leather jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Planting my arms through the sleeves, I gasped at the coolness of the material inside. He had been wearing it for hours; surely, it should be warm from his body heat.

Finally dragging my eyes from the garden in front of me, I glanced to my right at the stranger who was perched beside me. He was quite tall with long blonde hair that was secured at the nape of his neck in a bright red band. Noticing me staring at him, he looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine and causing me to jump back in alarm.

"Y-your eyes... What happened to your eyes?" I whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from his compelling gaze, his deep crimson eyes boring into my soul with their stunning intensity.

His hand reached out towards my face, his fingers splayed out as they gently caressed my cheek. Everything in me was telling me to recoil from his touch; my heart was pounding in my chest, but something inside wouldn't let me move from the spot I was frozen in. An odd electric current seemed to pass from his fingers and into my skin, emitting out from the point of contact and filling me with a comfortable sense of warmth and safety that I had never encountered before.

"Victoria," he murmured slowly, his voice gently caressing each syllable of my name as his fingers moved into my hair, tangling in the abundant locks and running down my back. His eyes followed their progress as though it was the most important thing in the world to him.

My mind whirled with the insanity of the situation I found myself in. By rights, this man should have scared me. He was a stranger to me, yet here he was, running his long thin fingers through my hair and gazing at me as though we had known each other forever. And yet I couldn't find it in myself to be afraid of him. The gentleness of his fingers and the reverent way that he looked at me and said my name screamed to me that I could trust him.

"Who are you?" I tilted my head to one side, a questioning look taking over my features as his hand-gripped mine, bringing it up to his lips where he ghosted a kiss on my knuckles before looking back up at me. The coolness of his touch not lost on me, deepening the riddle he posed to my sensibilities.

"I'm the one who saw you when you were invisible," he replied, a soft smile lighting up his serious face. "My name is James."

Bendingmirrors Week 3 Entry: Serenity

Pic 1:

Pic 2:


Bendingmirrors' Choice: Both
Title:

Serenity

The light danced on the water. The deep blue and the choppy waves reflected back to me like some giant hand had carelessly scattered diamonds over a blue velvet covering. The ocean didn't always look like this, there were days that it could be downright frightening, but on days like today when the sun was shining, and I was in no rush to go anywhere or be anything for someone else I could simply sit here and appreciate the quiet of the moment.

Contentment was a new emotion for me. Chasing after Edward, trying to be the best possible fiancée for him, attempting to balance the demands of my own family and career against those of his residency at the hospital had brought more challenges than I had been prepared for. A life lived for others meant that I was always sacrificing myself.

The sacrifices had left me with little appreciation for the life I had, instead I saw only the darkness; the bad things that could happen to those around me. A patient death that upset Edward would become the focus of my dramas until the next 'big thing' came along and swept me along in its wake.

It took the birth of Alice's beautiful daughter to remind me that there are things in the world that will never happen unless you make time for them. That was the day that I stepped away from the drama button, and took a deep breath. I told the wedding planner to stop panicking about the off white linen napkins that had arrived instead of the cream ones that we had ordered. I doubted that anyone other than she and Alice would ever notice what color the squares of material that people wiped their mouths with were anyway.

I drove myself down to the waterfront, slipped my shoes off, and dangled my feet off the wharf into the cool, clean water. Sitting down here, with the sun shining, and the salty ocean breeze teasing my nose, I came to a realization. None of those petty things mattered. Edward's shirts could be less than perfectly pressed; he probably didn't notice or care. I didn't have to always beat him home, if there were major things happening at the paper then Edward would most likely understand. After all, he understood that some jobs do make a large demand on your time, and while my job might not involve saving lives, it was just as important to me as his was to him.

The wedding day would arrive whether I had wasted the time on choosing the perfect guest gift or devoted what time I had to myself and Edward. What really mattered was how Edward made me feel, and how I made him feel. I didn't want him to think that he would ever come second to something as stupid as party, so I allowed the wedding planner to do her job. She could wake up worried at 3am about napkin colors, if I was going to be awake at that time it would be because Edward had woken me while climbing into bed and you can be damn sure it would involve a much more adult pastime.

I have heard people say that we could never appreciate the good without the bad, and I think that I came to that realization the day that Rosalie was born. We all want to have a wonderful life where nothing bad ever happens, but the truth of the matter is, without a defined end point like death we could never appreciate a single day for its beauty. Without knowing the depths our soul can sink to, we can never feel the true beauty of our soul taking flight. The truly great thing about sitting here on the water and watching the world go by, is knowing that I almost missed it all by dwelling on the dark.

Leaning back on my hands, I lift my face to the sun, and listen for the footsteps that will herald Edward's arrival down here. He's not entirely sure why I've asked him down here, but I figure that the place where I really learned how to live would be the perfect place to tell him that we've created a new life.

Weeks Pictures (05/23/10)

Bendingmirrors Choices:

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Hev99 Choices:

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Kimmydon Choices:

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Nostalgicmiss Week 2 Entry: Child's Play

Nostalgicmiss' Choice: Pic 1

Title:

Child's Play

Sitting with Alice and Rosalie on the park bench had become our Sunday ritual. It used to be we'd meet up for lunch in the city, dirty martini's as we talked about our lives.

We'd all been friends since college and our relationships hadn't diminished at all since we'd first met. Our meetings were admittedly only weekly now, but we still made an effort. Tuesday afternoons in the park and then dinner with the three of us and our significant others as Jane, my seventeen-year-old niece babysat the hoard of children. Not that she complained; she made quite a bit of money seeing as she got paid triple.

I guess our lives had started changing when we met our significant others. Rose was the first of us to get married and I don't think anyone doubted for a second it was going to happen once she fell in love with Emmett. He was different to her in so many ways, but he also leveled her out.

It was at their wedding that Alice met Rosalie's brother, Jasper. You could see the moment he asked her to dance that there was no turning back for her. Thankfully Rosalie had dressed us in the most beautiful dresses as her bridesmaids, so Alice looked even more stunning than usual.

I met Edward last, but much the same as my friends, I think I knew he was it for me. I loved him with every piece of my heart and soul, and when I fell pregnant, he didn't hesitate to ask me to marry him, and I certainly didn't have to think about saying yes.

All six of us were now good friends. When us girls had our usual Sundays, the boys would sit in Emmett's living room with whatever seasonal sport was playing at the time. Watching it on the huge flat screen while there were no women to nag them and no children to distract them, as they so kindly put it.

I couldn't imagine my life with out my five friends, and I was content.

The sun was warming the late June afternoon and I couldn't help but smile as my two kids ran around with their three best friends. Addie and Holly were now five and seven. Holly, five, had my brown curls and pale skin, but had Edward's perfectly straight nose and emerald green eyes. Addie, was seven going on seventeen. Her long bronze locks hung in tight spiral curls down her back. She'd inherited my brown eyes and button nose.

They were currently running in large circle with Caleb, Alice's pride and joy being only three. He was adorable with his ink black hair and blazing cerulean blue eyes and Hayden and Gabriella who were Rosalie's twins looked just like their father, dimples and all except with their mothers blonde hair and dazzling steel gray eyes.

"What are they doing?" Alice asked, hovering on her seat as Caleb fell to his knees. She only relaxed again when Addie helped him up and gripped his chubby little hand in hers.

"They're playing, Alice. There's no rhyme or reason to it," Rosalie ribbed, throwing her head back and laughing. "Anyone would think they were climbing trees the way you're behaving. They're in the middle of the grass running in circles. No danger."

"Shut up, Rose. You got a crash course having two at once. I still think that's cheating," I added, leaning forward to look past Rosalie. "Don't worry, Al, I was exactly the same way with Addie. She wobbled and I was out of my chair. With Holly is so much easier because I know how durable she is."

"It's not cheating," Rosalie scoffed, elbowing me in the arm.

Alice was uncharacteristically quiet, her eyes on the kids who were now stood still. All five of them were stood in a circle with their hands in the middle. I could hear the eldest of them, my bossy little Addie telling them to repeat after her.

"So the second one's really easier?" Alice asked watching with a smile as Addie folded over at her waist and gripped little Caleb's hand putting it under hers in the center of the circle.

"Everyone has to say it or it won't come true," Addie demanded looking directly at Hayden who was rolling his eyes at her. "On the count of three. Ready?"

"So much more because you know what to expect."

"One . . ." Addie shouted in chorus with the others.

"Well that's good," Alice said, her smile becoming broader.

"Two . . ."

"What are you talking about, Alice?" Rosalie demanded, giving Hayden a warning glance as he edged his hand from the group.

"Three!"

"I'm pregnant," Alice said as the kids behind her shouted "friends forever" at the top of their lungs.

Rosalie and I sprung to our feet squealing with joy.

Kimmydon Week 2 Entry: Daydreams

Kimmydon's Pick: Both

Title:

Daydreams

Disclaimer/warning: characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Some sexual scenarios. Treat this as being rated R in the movie sense.


I walk through the new house, thrilled to have been able to put my own touches to Esme's beautiful plans. I had a place for my lace, my knitting, my new Singer... I am all set for the next big fad to become clear to me so I can cash in on it. Bell-bottoms had been such a pay off. No one believed me, especially not Emmett who had later begged me to make him 'bells big enough for his balls' - groan.

They weren't here. Emmett and Rosalie were on yet another honeymoon. Jasper and I satisfied ourselves with the one so far. We didn't flaunt ourselves around Esme and Carlisle and vice versa, but Rose and Em?

Flash
Emmett pressing himself to Rosalie, his hands sliding under her shirt. Rose's hands tangling in her hair as she gently kisses his nose. Emmett continues to slide down her body, taking her skirt with him.

Damn those two! Didn't I have to see and hear enough of that when they were here? Jasper, of course, knows exactly what is on my mind and wraps arms around me. I nudge him with my hip, making my true feelings clear. I'm horny; I'm irritated. I wasn't newborn; I shouldn't be this easily distracted.

"They at it again?" Edward calls from his room. His voice was a speaking tone, but I can hear him out here in the entry-way.

"When aren't they?" Jasper asks aloud.

"Um, when you are?" is Edward's snide reply.

I begin picturing Irinia and Kate setting his music collection on fire.

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry."

You better be.

Jasper chuckles, feeling my satisfaction at getting the better of my terribly annoying, mind-reading brother.

I look at the sketch of the Eiffel Tower, thinking about my upcoming show in Paris. Well, it's mine but it isn't. I used an alias, of course - the anonymous designer of the House of Raffin. They were happy enough to take my offerings under their name, and I was thrilled to see my pretties on the runway.

And there they are. I turn, twirling on the hardwood, watching the models that would wear my beautiful dresses, suits, blouses, hats.

Flash
Tanya with a human man. He lies under her as she rides wildly. Her eyes closed, her mouth open, shouting. "More, more."
"Oh, Baby. I don't know how much more I've got. You feel like you're killing me. Ugh. Pulling me right off, fuck. Fuck! Ow! OW! Aaah!!"

I sit hard on the floor, my hands over my face, in my hair. I need detail. When? Could I stop her? Dark, it's dark. I look back, when did they begin? Dusk. She tries to help him off the bed, but he isn't able to stand. Dawn on the windows. It must be summer.

I lift my head to Edward's eyes. Jasper's hands are on my shoulders. "You'll call?"

"Yeah. Did you get a name?"

I shake my head. "You saw him. She'll know. She didn't just pick him up."

"What is it, love?"

I shake my head again. "It's fine Jaz. We'll stop it."

Flash
Edward braced over a brunette. He moves over her and her eyes widen before going to dark.

OH WHEN THE SAINTS, COME MARCHING IN!
OH WHEN THE SAINTS...

Edward looks at me and I run from the room. I don't want him to see that. How far have I gone? There it is, the five mile mark. Jasper is less than a second behind me.

"What?!"

"The first, the one he saw, was Tanya. She's going to injure her lover. The second, the one I blocked." I stop. I don't want to tell him. It's hard enough for me to keep this from Edward; I don't want Jaz to have to worry too. "The second was a human girl and male vampire. Just as bad though. No time soon."

Jasper hugs me. "It's all right, Ali-cat. We'll make it better. You and me."

I return his hug and take his hope. I can't tell him that I don't want to make it better. I want Edward to have that, to have her. I want her to be ours.

Hev99 Week 2 Entry: The Message

Hev99's Pick: Pic 2

Title:

The Message

The blazing sun hung high in the sky; it's silken rays landing on my bare legs, no longer casting the long shadows of the corn stalks that grew all around me. I watched as a blackbird hopped merrily amongst the golden crops, pecking at the ground for fallen seeds, his bright yellow beak standing out in vivid contrast to the sleek black of his feathers. His soft twittering was the only sound, save the breeze that rustled through the dry crops, whispering it's secrets onto the wind to be carried far away. I wondered whether the wind would betray me. If I told it my secrets, would it carry them away and tell somebody in a distant land? Or would it hold them forever, never telling a soul, locking them away until they faded like a wave on the shore.

My mobile phone was clutched tightly in my hand, the message written then deleted a hundred times over. I glared at the screen, almost willing it to make the decision for me. Send or delete? Tell or hide? One message. That's all it would take. Just one simple message. Three simple words and maybe it could stop. Maybe it could all stop.

I couldn't hide out in this field forever. It was only a matter of time until somebody caught on. It was just a question of who would notice first, the school or the farmer. He had to harvest his crops eventually and when he did there would be nowhere to hide any more.

I would miss this place. The small clearing in the middle of the field where the flattened corn stalks provided a comfortable space to lie back and just be. There were no sounds here but those that nature made. The birds singing busily in the trees, the crickets chirping happily in the bushes which bordered the field, and my favourite sound of all, the wind. The sound it made as it brushed through the crops and danced around the leaves of the trees was the most soothing music that nature had provided, like water, a stream trickling and tripping over a rocky riverbed.

The sky was pure, bright blue with a few soft clouds scattered around, suspended in the heavens like billowing cotton wool balls. I watched their progress as they sauntered lazily across the hazy sky and disappeared behind the tall corn plants and out of my sight.

A flock of birds, flying in a perfect V shape swooped and wheeled across the sky, never breaking their formation as they sped around, perfectly free. In my mind I soared with them, high in the heavens, above the planet below, completely free and completely content.

But humans don't fly, and of course the tranquility couldn't last. The peaceful silence that had enveloped me since I had dropped to the ground as the school bell had rung elsewhere, was suddenly shattered by the ridiculous ring-tone my stupid brother had locked onto my phone when I turned my back on him and his idiotic friends for one minute. There was a flurry of wings batting against the leaves of the tree as the shrill electronic sound broke the silence of the afternoon, the small screen flashing with my mother's number. So, the game was up. The school must have finally noticed I was missing, two and a half weeks later.

I pressed the pad of my finger against the silence button, not ready to talk to her yet. The text message still sat, unsent in my phone, waiting for the perfect moment to wing it's way into being and then they would know. I held my finger in place, watching the screen flashing for a few more moments, the handset vibrating softly in my hand before it stuttered into darkness once more, the message 'One Missed Call' appearing on the screen, undoubtedly sealing my mum's anger.

Her moody, erratic and irritable daughter was now also a truant. I could already imagine the disappointment that would be etched onto her face when I saw her after "school". Her eyes would be soft, hurt. Her mouth would be turned down sadly at the corners and the lines that were there more often than not since dad was taken away in the back of a police van, would deepen into a full frown.

I could bear anything from my mum - anything but disappointment - anything but that feeling of having let her down. She would be heartbroken. Every morning she dropped me at the school gates, all I had to do was walk inside. But every day for over two weeks, I had watched her drive away, seeing her bright red car disappear round the corner before I turned around and headed for this place. This special place where nobody could find me. Because in school they always found me. Every day.

My phone bleeped once more, quietly this time; just a message coming through. Mum. Of course.

Jennie, where are you? Call me. Please. I'm worried. I love you, Mum x

Guilt swept over me like a tidal wave as I realized that she wasn't just angry, not just disappointed, but she was very probably worried sick.

I slumped back onto the soft ground, my phone still held tightly in my hand, as a whole new set of clouds drifted overhead, a thin vapor trail weaving a path across the heavens, evidence of people being carried far away. I wondered about the plane that had left it's footprint across the sapphire sky. I wondered where it was going? Who was onboard? Why were they leaving? Or were they going home? Was running away ever really a viable solution to anything?

I remembered that line from my mum's favorite film, The Sound of Music. "You can't run away from your problems, you have to face them."

I could picture myself as a small child, curled into my mum's side as we watched the film, singing tunelessly to the songs as Julie Andrews' perfect voice crackled out from the elderly television.

Pulling the message up onto the screen one more time I stared at it for countless minutes. Three words. Just three and she would maybe understand. Not long words. Simple, easy. And yet so hard at the same time. My finger hovered over the send key, hesitating. Putting off the inevitable for just a bit longer, holding out for just a few more moments of paradise.

Then out of nowhere, the beautiful blackbird broke all the rules. It pecked around, every day. But never approached me. Never came to within less than 5 feet of me. Yet it chose that moment, that moment when my finger was on the button to peck at my finger. Startled, my thumb squeezed against the phone key just hard enough to send those three words into cyber space, to betray me, not onto the wind but to somebody who would actually read them, understand them and be forced to react.

The words were out there now and there could be no taking them back.

My phone chirped again, another message coming through. My fingers shook warily as I fumbled over the keys to open it.

Come home, sweetheart. Come home and we can talk. I love you, forever. Come home. Please? Mum x

Sighing, I scrambled to my feet, looking around one more time at my favorite place in the world. The place that had offered me sanctuary every day. My place of peace and tranquility, where nobody ever found me.

When the bullies found out that I told, things were bound to get worse - they always did, didn't they? But I would always have this place, this little piece of paradise that was all mine. No matter what they did, they couldn't take that away from me.

Bendingmirrors Week 2 Entry: The Last Goodbye

Sorry Guys,

I dropped the ball and am posting this late. Won't happen again I promise!! I am posting Sunday's now and Monday's later in the afternoon . . .



Bendingmirrors Choice: Picture 1
Title:

The Last Goodbye

One last look. That's what I'd promised myself, I would take one last look at his beloved face, then I would turn back and walk away.

Somehow I just couldn't bring myself to turn to look at him though, knowing that he was yet again choosing the hunt over me. Another girl over me. Sure I enjoyed the hunt as much as the next vampire, and the games could be fun. But this was ridiculous, this was bringing the wrath of an entire clan of vampires down on us. This was deliberately choosing to chase the mate of a vampire as our next meal.

She didn't even smell that good! Sure she'd make an okay meal, but there were so many other more enjoyable pastimes out there, so many other scents to track down, places to discover and defile.

Instead, James was fixated on a stupid teenage girl. Sure she was protected and that might make the hunt more interesting, but honestly, I was bored already. I'd rather be holed up in a cave somewhere with James, we'd fed well the last few weeks, and could most likely go awhile without really needing to feed. Which meant we could spend eons losing ourselves in each other, in sex.

I didn't understand how, after all of these decades together he could choose to risk everything we have for one small, not terribly tasty, meal.

Against my better judgment, I turned back to look at his face. Examined the contours of a face I had traced a thousand times over. A nose that I had broken in the heat of the moment in Montreal. Hair I had tugged, and occasionally tidied up for him. The mouth that could deliver such meanness in sinfully dark tones was also capable of bringing the highest of peaks and glories. In response to some hidden signal, he curled one corner of that delicious mouth upwards and I started to wonder if maybe he was right and I should just follow blindly along on his quest to destruction.

James extended a hand toward me, his smirk growing larger. I know he thought I really had no thoughts of my own, and that I'd follow him blindly, but this was one step too far. I stopped myself from moving towards him. Shooting a quick look at Laurent I could tell that he was as uneasy about all of this as I was, and that James was going to be more or less on his own with this if I didn't come around.

How much more did he really expect me to put up with? I'm not the silly little girl he found in that one-horse town anymore, he honed me into a blade of the finest Toledo steel. A killing machine to match his own viciousness, and while I enjoyed the games he played, I couldn't help but think that this time he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

What was it about this dull little mouse that had all of these vampires falling all over themselves for her? A whole coven willing to protect her, and my own James about to strike off from us in order to take her.

Maybe for James though, this was more about the girl he wanted as his own. The mate he wanted before he lost her and settled for me. You can't live with someone for as long as I had without learning how to read between the lines. I'm half-way certain that the tiny vampire in the coven is the one he lost, but he won't confirm it, which to me is all that needs to be said.

When this was all over, and he had eaten the girl and gotten away from the coven I knew he would come for me. We would fight, maybe cause an avalanche with our play, but we would make up and I would have my James back in a dance of danger, lust and freedom. Until the next lure came along anyway, but in the meantime, I turned and gave him my back. Sauntering away from my mate to show him exactly what I thought of this fools scheme. I'd make it up to him when he returned, but I wasn't having a part in the madness. My own skin is far more important than any walking snack, and I'd make him admit that when he came back.

Week Pictures (5/16/10)

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Nostalgicmiss Week 1 Entry: The Turning Point

Weezy's Choice: Picture 1

Title:

The Turning Point

The fog that hung in the air was freezing. It danced through the trees, the small beads of water clinging to the dead looking branches and trunks that seemed to surround me. The only shot of color seemed to come from the evergreens that danced in the light breeze that stirred the otherwise stagnant air.

I knew I shouldn't be out here in this weather, I knew I should be back inside the house with everyone else as the quietly said their goodbyes, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't say goodbye to one of the people I had loved so unconditionally. The person who gave me life.

It seemed so bizarre that only five days ago she had dragged me to the mall with the promise of a movie afterward to make up for the twenty mile trek she was sure to take me on. Even more impossible was that I had been on the phone with her not three days ago laughing about her dog, Milo's, constant need to chase his tail.

Was I really laughing just three days ago? It felt like a lifetime.

My eyes, not really seeing, watched Milo wander around the trees looking just as sad as I felt. Dad had said he'd been looking for her since the accident happened. He searched the house, scratching at doors to see whether she lingered in one of the closed off rooms. When his search became fruitless the poor guy laid in his basket, waiting for her car to pull up, waiting for her scent to envelope him again. I knew how he felt, because it's how I felt. It was how I thought.

The thick tweed jacket of hers that I was wearing held that smell for me. It surrounded me and lingered in the fabric, seemingly releasing whenever my mind turned to her. It had been happening more and more since I'd been sat here. My rational thoughts attributed it to the dampness in the air that still managed to cling to me even under the umbrella I was holding, but my heart; my heart wanted to believe that she was here with me, saying her goodbyes.

A goodbye I never got to have.

It was all so senseless, so unnecessary. A drunken driver swerving into her car as he barreled along the tree lined, rain slick roads. She'd still been alive when Dad arrived on the scene, he was able to say goodbye. He called me at work, telling me where to go and to hurry. I was only half way there when called me to tell me she'd gone.

I pulled over to the side of the road and sat there staring at nothing in particular as the large fat tears rolled from my full eyes and dampened the blouse I'd bought when I went shopping with her not two days earlier.

I don't even know how long I was sat there. It wasn't until Edward tapped on my window, the bright lights of his squad car flashing against the darkened forest, that I realized the night had covered the haunting gray of the afternoon sky.

Edward pulled open my door, his long arms folding around me and pulling me into his chest. His hands brushing through my hair as he let me mourn. He knew what I needed, just like he always did. He never said a word, no words of consolation, no apologies for the senseless act, he just held me tighter than he ever had, holding me together as I fell apart.

I huddled deeper into my mom's jacket as another icy breeze licked the exposed skin. I was sat on our bench in our park, watching her dog like we had so many times before, only this time I was alone. I only had my memories of her to keep me company as I watched Milo searching for something he would never find in the winter stripped park by my parent's home.

"Bella, baby?"

I closed my eyes as my husbands velvet smooth voice washed over me. I knew it was hard for him to see me this way, to see me pull back into a shell I hadn't ever had around him. He was everything to me now, the white light at the end of a tunnel filled with the inky blackness of my devastation.

His hands, so warm and gentle, cradled my face as he tilted it to the direction of his. My eyes fluttered open and I let myself fall into the pools of his eyes and find the comfort I was so desperately seeking.

"Baby, it's freezing out here," he said, his soothing tones washing over me as the pads of his thumbs brushed the remaining tears from under my eyes.

"I know, I just couldn't . . . They all . . ."

"I know, I understand." He pulled my cold body against his, his hands releasing my face as they wrapped around my body. He was wearing his best suit, his leather jacket covering his top half. I could smell the leather as my cheek came to rest on his shoulder. It was another familiar smell to me, but one I could only connect with him. "I think your dad feels the same way. If another neighbor brings him a casserole I think he's going to snap."

I felt horrible, my dad, having had my mom around all of our lives, now found himself alone. Surrounded by things they had bought together in a house decorated by her. He hadn't touched anything since the accident. The book she'd been reading still lay on the arm of her chair, the bookmark holding the page for someone who could never return to finish it. A cup on the coffee table that still had her lipstick mark from where she'd drank from it.

I was so lost in my own mourning, I was neglecting him. How much this hurt him. How much this was going to destroy him. I needed to set my grief to the side and help him deal with his. I needed to be his rock while he let himself truly mourn. I had Edward to hold me at night I had Edward to kiss away the tears. Dad was alone.

I nodded against Edward's chest in an effort to show him I was ready to go on. Move forward like my mom would have wanted. He released me from the secure loving encasement of his arms and I stood up from the cold barren bench. I whistled once to get the attention of the dog my mom had loved like a second child as I tucked myself into the space under my husband's arm. The place I felt that I belonged, that felt like home.

The future was ahead of us, we all had to work together to ease this pain, but we would go on, and we would carry mom in our hearts with us. She was gone, there was nothing we could do about that, but I was comforted in the fact that she would never be forgotten.

HEV99 Week 1 Entry: Life and Soul of The Party

HEV99's Choice: Both
Title:Life and Soul of the Party

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I chanted to myself as I tore at my hair, the metallic band that was holding my hair out of my eyes falling forward and coming to rest on my forehead where I left it, too busy with my self flagellation to bother to reset it.

I curled my knees up into my chest, resting my chin on my knees and staring out at the football field angrily. I don't know what I was thinking, letting Alice talk me into going to that stupid party just so that she could stalk some guy in the year above us. She was utterly convinced that if he saw her in her own clothes instead of the vile school uniform he saw her in day in day out that he would be suddenly rendered unable to resist her and would fall into her arms like some sort of ridiculous fairy tale.

Of course, naturally it had worked like a charm and Jasper Whitlock was pretty much putty in her hands from the moment she walked into the party in her almost indecently tight dress and insanely high heels which I couldn't have even stood up straight in, let alone attempted the seductive swagger she managed to pull off.

And of course he was there, with his blonde hair, melting blue eyes and Jessica Stanley permanently attached to him like a limpet. His eyes had caught mine briefly, indifference flying from them and almost creasing me in two before he walked away with his arm slung casually over Jessica's shoulder and her hand caressing his ass cozily.

I could hear my brother in the kitchen with his friends, laughing boisterously and probably drinking insane amounts of alcohol, knowing that dad was out of town until the following evening.

I burrowed my face into my knees, wishing I could just disappear as I remembered how I had fled from the room after realizing how hopelessly out of place I was there.

The room had spun about me, the crowds of teenagers in varying states of inebriation twisting menacingly around me as I fought to remain standing, my feet so solidly fixed on the spot where I was standing that I was certain I would take root there. The jovial shouts from all around rang in my ears as my eyes darted around looking for somebody, anybody in the room that I could relate to. My best friend, the one who had dragged me along in the first place was twisted up against Jasper Whitlock's body, his hands cupping her ass as they made out in the corner by the keg which had busted open and destroyed Tyler's parent's carpet.

As the noise became more and more deafening and my eyes began to swim with tears I desperately tried to suppress, I couldn't bear it any more. Whispering a hurried "I'm sorry" into the room, which probably went unheard, I turned on my heel and ran out of there, leaving the happy sounds of people enjoying themselves behind me and pushing my legs forward until I hit the football park across the way from Tyler's house. There I flung myself down onto one of the benches which circled the pitch where children’s teams played in a mini league at the weekends.

I could hear the light breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees which lined this side of the pitch, bringing with it a cooling relief to the blazing sunshine which was sinking down in the western sky, signaling that the party was probably moving from the pretense of a small BBQ it had begun as, into the full scale blowout that it had turned into well before it was even starting to get dark.

Soft footsteps approached me, crunching through the loose gravel getting louder and louder, closer and closer, then coming to a stop beside me. I kept my face buried in my knees, hoping to utilize the old "if I can't see them, they can't see me," trick. It, of course, failed epically.

"Bella?" a soft voice whispered the sound almost like a song on the breeze.

I shook my head in between my knees, saying nothing and hoping that whoever it was would just go away and leave me alone.

"You sure about that?" the voice continued, a small laugh contained within his words.

I nodded, once again maintaining my silence and keeping my face hidden, certain that the emotions there would betray me to whoever the voice belonged to.

"Ah, my mistake, apologies," a hand landed on the top of my head, making me jump and look up into a pair of familiar piercing green eyes which were eyeing me with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Are you alright?" Edward Cullen, quarter back, school hero and best friend to my brother questioned me softly, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight making his expression appear even more intense than he intended.

"Peachy," I mumbled, placing my head back into its burrow in my knees and bringing my arms around to hug them in place.

"Oh right," he responded, his feet shuffling noisily in the gravel. "It's just that I've never seen you move so fast or so skillfully before."

I snorted at his words, earning a long drawn out silence before he finally asked, "What’s funny?"

"You are," I responded, looking up into his confused eyes once more. One perfect eyebrow quirked at me in question when I didn't elaborate.

"You," I started, "see me." The very idea was preposterous, so how he would know how quickly or otherwise I generally moved or with how much coordination was beyond me.

"See you?" he responded, softly. "What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter," I returned, moving my head as if to look back into my knees again, but finding the movement restricted by his finger under my chin. His intense eyes gazed at me, piercing their way through my defenses and making me squirm until his finger dropped from my face, falling uncomfortably down by his side once more.

"Sorry," he whispered, looking guilty at my obvious discomfort.

"What do you want, Edward?" I asked, almost rudely.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok, I saw you run out of the party like you were upset, you looked..." he trailed off, shrugging as though the rest of the sentence was obvious.

"You... saw me?"

"Of course, Bella... what?" His tone was utterly confused and I had no intention of enlightening him and embarrassing myself. I just shook my head once again, seeing his frustration at my lack of response.

He sat down on the bench beside me, scooting back and leaning against the trunk of an old oak tree which sat conveniently behind the bench.

"You don't say much do you?" he chuckled, his eyes still holding mine as I twisted where I sat following him with wide surprised eyes.

"You don't have to stay out here with me, Edward, you can go back to the party," I said, effectively releasing him from any weird sense of duty he felt towards Emmett in 'taking care' of his sister for him.

"Am I annoying you? Do you want me to go?" he responded, leaning forward slightly from his relaxed pose against the tree.

"No, Edward, you're not annoying me." I sighed, averting my gaze back out to the football field, his scrutiny becoming uncomfortable. "But you don't have to stay either, you're missing the party," I reasoned, fingering the loosed threads on the knees of my jeans where the denim was wearing away.

"Something tells me I'm not missing much," he rolled his eyes as the gentle din which had been audible from the house was steadily increasing in volume. My eyes widened in surprise at the look of disgust he aimed at the house.

"It sounded like people were having fun," I whispered, uncertain as to why he was suddenly being nice to me.

"Yeah, fun," he laughed sarcastically. "Your big brother seemed to like the beer anyway," he laughed, almost bitterly.

"Big brother," I scoffed, the usual assumption bugging me just as much as ever.

"Again with the cryptic laughter," his eyebrow went up once more, his emerald eyes twinkling at me curiously.

"Big brother. Everyone says big brother."

"He's not your brother?" his question made me laugh out loud.

"Oh, he's my brother," I forced out through my laughter, earning myself an even more confused look. "We're twins, Edward."

The look of shocked confusion on his face was so comical I almost wished that I carried a camera just so that I could capture it. His mouth opened and closed several times, his eyes wide and gaping at me as though he had never seen me before, which I had always, assumed to be the case.

"But... You're in different grades, how? I mean..." he trailed off, apparently unable to verbalize what apparently Emmett never bothered to tell him.

"He was born at eleven fifty nine pm on August thirty first, I was born at twelve oh-two am on September first. He's three minutes and a whole school year older than me."

"Wow," he responded, simply. "That's... ah... weird."

"Yeah, weird," I agreed, shuffling back on the bench and leaning back against the tree beside him, my arm brushing against his, sending sparks of electricity shooting through me. Jumping back from him I felt him do the same, evidently he felt it too.

"So why'd you run?" he changed the subject after a moment of slightly uncomfortable silence. I simply shrugged in response, pulling my knees back up to my chest and hugging them there tightly, my chin once more resting on the tops of my knees. "Not a party person?"

"Is it that obvious?" I mumbled, briefly meeting his eyes with mine then staring down at my scruffy, converse clad feet.

"Kind of, the look of abject terror on your face when you walked in pretty much sold you out, sorry," he winked at me. Winked at me.

My mind was whirling at about a thousand miles a second, trying to figure out what he wanted, why he had followed me out here and why he was still sitting with me, looking like there was nowhere on earth he'd rather be.

"Why are you here, Edward?" I whispered softly, looking at him squarely in the eyes, waiting for the inevitable, when he would tell me he followed me out here for a bet or something.

"I saw you run and I was worried about you," he responded, simply, shrugging as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You... saw me and then you came after me?" I started my voice slightly wobbly. "I don't even want to go into how many things are wrong with that sentence."

He looked at me curiously, his trademark crooked grin which routinely left all the girls in Forks High swooning and reaching for the smelling salts taking over his face.

"Enlighten me," he said after a few moments of staring at me. "Tell me which bits of the sentence you have a problem with and I'll see if I can clear things up for you."

I turned my head so that my cheek was resting against my knee and my eyes were fixed on his. They stared at me now in all their glorious emerald intensity, waiting for a response.

"OK so let's start with the part where you saw me, shall we?" I mumbled, unable to drag my eyes away from his captivating gaze.

"I'm not blind, Bella," he laughed, his eyes flickering all around as though he was demonstrating the adequacies of his sight. "Why would that surprise you?"

He sounded genuinely intrigued, a small line appearing between his eyes as they focused back on me.

"Because I'm... me, and you are... well... you. The only reason you even know my name is because you hang out with my brother."

"You think so?" he smirked at me, one eyebrow raised once again as though he was teasing me.

"I know so," I replied confidently.

"You're name is Isabella but you hate being called that because it was the name your mom gave you and you'd rather not think about her. When she left you guys you cried for three whole days and then you refused to answer to Isabella any more. You want to be an editor when you're older, you love to write but being a writer would thrust you into the limelight and there's nothing you hate more than being the centre of attention. You have a crazy crush on Mike Newton who is too much of a douche to notice and even if he did he wouldn't be nearly good enough for you for Emmett to allow him within twelve feet of you, for fear of how crushed you'd be when you realized what an idiot you were crushing on. You hide from the world by walking around with your head down thinking that if you don't look at the world then the world won't look at you, but you're wrong. You don't realize how many people notice you because the one person you want to notice you doesn't."

The smirk had disappeared from his face, replaced by a look that held such deep intensity that it made me fidget uncomfortably where I sat. His long slender fingers twitched where they rested on his thigh before he reached out with his right hand and pushed a stray strand of my hair behind my ear with the most devastatingly tender look on his face.

"I see you, Bella," he whispered, so quietly that the gentle breeze almost stole the words away. The hand that moved my hair now landed softly on my face, the pad of his thumb running in small circles on the apple of my cheek. His face was so close to mine that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face, the slight scent of cola overcoming my senses and telling me that he was maybe the only other person at the party who hadn't been drinking. I felt a strong surge of something that felt like electricity flow through me, charging from the spot on my face where his hand was still lightly touching it, right through my body.

"B-but you're Edward Cullen," I mumbled incoherently, the words tripping out of my mouth in no apparent order and causing his hand to drop from my face.

"And who is he exactly?" he asked, his voice almost hostile as he leaned back against the tree. I recoiled at the almost resentful tone of his voice, seeing a hurt look shoot across his face.

"Edward Cullen?" I asked earning myself a curt nod before his eyes wandered to the football pitch where no doubt he had scored numerous touchdowns over the years. "He's the quarterback on the football team, the guy who got himself a full football scholarship to Harvard, the guy who walks through the corridors at school and has every single girl swooning after him. He's the guy who all the girls want to be with and all the guys want to be."

"That's what he is. Not who he is," he shifted forwards so that his feet were on the ground then pushed up and started to wander away towards the pitch, turning back briefly and shooting me a look that invited me to go with him.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to follow him. I was having trouble reconciling the Edward Cullen I had just described to the one who seemed to know more about me than I had ever consciously shown. The guy who hung out with my brother and his friends was confident verging on cocky; he never ever spoke to me except for basic manners when he was around at my house. So why would that guy follow me out of a party because he saw that I was upset? Why would he care?

Yet here he was. Here he was, being kind to me and I just insulted him by talking about the guy I had thought he was when evidently that wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry, Edward, I didn't mean to..." I struggled for words as I clambered off the bench and approached him shyly. As I reached him he started to walk again, he seemed to be heading for the end zone furthest away from the house but angled his body towards me when I joined him. We fell into step easily and although he didn't say anything, the silence was comfortable, not strained like I expected.

We hit the end zone and Edward sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him, resting on his elbows. I stood awkwardly, wondering what he was doing, until he patted the ground next to him and took my hand, tugging on it gently until I slumped down beside him.

"That's not me, you know, that stuff," he started, his voice unusually wary. "I mean... it is, I am those things, but I don't... I mean... I think that...” He trailed off as his voice became more and more flustered. I put out my hand, placing it lightly on his arm in the hope of calming him. Both our eyes dropped to the point of contact when that electric feeling shot through me once again.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered, his eyes not moving from where they were fixated on my hand on his arm. "I just, I hate that that's all that people ever see. I'm not just Edward Cullen - Quarterback. I do other things too."

"I barely know you, Edward. I can only go from what I see, which isn't much."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed. "Nobody sees, everybody looks, but nobody sees."

"So show me," I returned, taking my hand from his arm and leaning on it. Edward's eyes followed the movement with an expression that could have been mistaken for disappointment.

"OK," his voice was so quiet now I could just barely hear him as he began to show me the real, no holds barred Edward Cullen.

"I don't want to go to Harvard," he shrugged, "I don't want to play football forever, I want to be a doctor like my father, but everybody has it in their heads that I'm going to be a great player and that I can make the NFL someday. I haven't told anybody that that's not what I want because I hate the thought of disappointing everybody. I would rather stay home and watch a movie or read a book than go to parties, I have no interest in any of the girls that throw themselves at me every day and I try so hard to let them down gently that at least three of them think that they're my girlfriend. I won't tell anybody why I'm not interested in those girls because if my best friend found out that I was crazy about his little sister then he'd probably tear me limb from limb."

His eyes gazed into mine, his final words hanging on the breeze and dancing around us as I tried to make sense of all he was saying.

"But, Emmett's your best friend," I stuttered, lamely. My mind reeling with what I thought he was trying to say.

"Yeah, he is," was his only reply as he lay back onto the grass, his eyes closed against the setting sun. I stared at him as he laid there, his perfect face taking on an orange hue in the fading light of the sun. His long elegant lashes were nestled against his high cheek bones and his lips were curved upwards in a soft smile. One hand lay down by his side, the fingers picking idly at the grass there; the other was at his head, his long fingers absent-mindedly running through his unruly bronze hair.

"Edward, I...I don't understand," I broke the silence, finally, his words making no sense to me.

"You, Bella. Emmett doesn't have another little sister does he?"

"No, no he doesn't, but I... I'm not... I'm just..."

"You're not just anything, Bella. Newton is a prick if he can't see what everybody else sees. You're beautiful and smart and funny as fuck when your guard is down. And you know what the best thing is?" I shook my head, my eyes wide, taking in all that he was saying and the intense look of truth in his eyes as he spoke.

"The best thing is that you don't realize how special you are. You walk around every day completely oblivious to the fact that half the male population of Forks High would give anything just to talk to you, or to hold your hand. You make me want to be a better person, just by being you. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, Bella and you have no idea."

I was about to respond, probably in incoherent grunts and mumblings since my brain couldn't think of a single intelligent response, when his lips pressed against mine, the soft velvet of his hands cupping my face as he kissed me. I hesitated for a moment, my mind going into overdrive at the impossibility of what was happening. This was Edward Cullen. Edward Cullen! My brother's best friend and the most popular guy in school. And he was kissing me, Bella Swan, awkward and painfully shy and apparently not as good at fading into the background as she thought.

But he liked me. And he knew me. Not just knew me in the sense that most people knew me, but he saw things that I kept deep inside, things that I doubted even my brother knew.

As his lips moved against mine I felt myself giving in to the moment and kissing him back. As he felt my hesitation pass he moved his hands from my cheeks, the fingers of one hand tangling in my long, loose hair, tilting my head back and deepening the kiss as the other arm snaked around my waist, pulling me in tighter to him. My body ran all over with sparks and tingles as his body pressed up against mine; a perfect fit, like two pieces of a puzzle which slotted together exactly.

As the kiss broke apart so that we could both come up for air he brought the other arm down and pulled me into a tight embrace, his chin resting on the top of my head as he whispered words that I had never heard before.

"You're beautiful, Bella."

His perfect lips dropped a soft kiss on my forehead before he buried his face in my curls, breathing in deeply several times and making soft contented crooning noises. I relaxed into his arms, the power of the connection between us intense and soothing in equal measure. But one thing struck me forcefully, lying there in his arms; that nothing had ever felt so right to me before, nowhere had ever felt quite so much like home.

Weeks Pictures (05/10/10)

HEV99 OPTIONS:

Pic 1:
Pic 2:

NOSTALGICMISS OPTIONS:

Pic 1:
Pic 2:

The Premise

The writers are given 2 images to choose from. They can pick either: the first, the second, or both, and write a story, long or short. It doesn't have to be a literal translation, but something that is inspired by the picture.

It doesn't have to be Twilight either, it can be a character of your own making or from another fandom if you wish. It just has to make a story.

Sunday: Bendingmirrors

Monday: Hev99

Tuesday:

Wednesday: Kimmydon

Thursday: Nostalgicmiss

Friday:

Saturday:

If you think you'd like to give it a try, please email me. The email address is in the side bar :)

Thanks for reading :) And this may change over time to read a lot more eloquently.