Monday, June 28, 2010

Emmettslover Post 1: Spring Love




Spring Love


It was spring break and I had to go to my Grandmothers house. I was furious. Not because I didn’t love Gran. No that wasn’t it. It was because I was supposed to go to California with my group of girlfriends. Visit the beaches and find hot single guys. Mother smashed those plans when she wanted to show Gran how well we’ve been doing since Dad left.

The trees where whipping past in the window. My iPod was on full blast tuning out my mother’s orders of not telling Gran that she hasn’t found another man since dad left five years ago. I rolled my eyes and nodded. The car slowed down when we pulled up to Gran’s house.

Gran lives out in the middle of nowhere. The only good part about visiting Gran is she has acres of land surrounded by woods on three sides. She has this field thats just filled with grass and past that is a beach. Not one of those beaches you see in California, more like the coast in Maine. I haven’t been here since I was twelve. I doubt any of my old friends were still around. Gran popped out of the house smiling pulling me out of the car.

“Oh I missed you Aliea! Your mom tells me that you didn’t have any plans for spring break. A pretty girl like you should have gone with her friends somewhere.” I shot my mom a look before hugging Gran. “I’ve missed you too Gran. It has been too long.”

“Mom, how long did you want us to stay here?” My mom asked pushing us into the house. She knew me too well, if she left me outside alone I’d take the car and drive it all the way to California. “As long as you want dear. I’ve been worried about you since Bill left you.” My moms face fell for a second before plastering on a fake smile.

“You don’t have to Mom. Aliea and I are doing well.” Gran smiled at this. “If you’re doing so well, why don’t you come live with me?” My mom was stunned by this. Her mouth was open to decline the offer.

But then I saw it.

The moment of hesitation.

She was thinking about how much easier it would be. Less bills, less calls from the school saying I was skipping class and smoking in the bathrooms. Gran saw this and tried to use it to her advantage.

“I only have Anthony, the boy next door, to help me around the yard,” She smirked at me when she said Anthony. I cringed internally, she's going to try to hook me up with him. “And old lady could use her granddaughter around here too. Someone needs to learn the family recipes.” She smiled. My mother glanced over at me with an apology.

“You can finish the rest of your junior year at your school now. But this summer we are moving over here Aliea. There will be no exceptions.” She said with a finality.

I wouldn’t be able to get out of this. I groaned and said I was going to go for a walk. They couldn’t deny me that. I was walking around the many acres kicking rocks and screaming when I found the place where I would always lay and watch the clouds.

I smiled over looking the grass. It use to be so green and cut short but with only my Gran and that boy helping her she couldn’t keep it up. I didn’t mind, it was still mine. No one knew I would sneak out here to just be alone. Not even my old friend Lucien. He was my best friend, we did everything together.

I smiled and laid down in the weeds looking up at the sky, remembering all of our adventures. I closed my eyes and frowned thinking that I wouldn’t be able to live in the middle of nowhere. I need to try to get out of this somehow. Maybe if Lucien was still here it would be bearable but Mom told me that he moved away years ago.

I heard my cell phone ring and I patted my chest not remembering if I put in my bra. Nope, not there. I continued patting down my body to my hips. Not there either, damn it of course it would be in my ass pocket. I lifted my hips to get my phone out and answered it. “Hello?” I asked annoyed that someone was interrupting my evil plans to get out of this hell hole. “Aleia? It’s Gran, Anthony is going to be here any minute and I wanted you to meet him.” She said this with a hint of something in her voice, she was up to something.

“Gran,” I said sounding whiney, “why do I have to meet him right now? I’m trying to come to terms with me starting my senior year at a new high school.” I was throwing a fit I knew this, but I new Gran was trying to set me up with him and I didn’t need this right now. “Aliea, I expect you in the house in ten minutes.”

“But Gran!” I stared at the phone. Gran had hung up on me. I groaned get up dusting off my shorts. I had to run back to the house to be there within ten minutes.” I heard people talking, I recognized Gran and Mom but there was another voice. I sounded familiar but also foreign. Intrigued I opened the door and walked into the kitchen. Anthony’s back was towards me and all I could see was a tall boy looked around my age with a black head of hair and a defined body. You could tell he took care of himself, you don’t get that figure by sitting around playing video games. Gran looked over his shoulder to me and he turned.

I gasped.

His hazel eyes turned to mine and he smiled. “Ali?”

I couldn’t believe it was him! It was Lucien! And boy did he grow up! I remember him being awkward and lanky.

He walked up to me and grabbed me in a huge hug and spun me around. I couldn’t help but giggle. He set me back down and took a step back to look me over with a smile on his face.

“You grew up Ali!” he smirked at me. I laughed again. “You did too Lucien! I thought you moved to New York?” He nodded. “My mom took me up there but decided that she liked it here better and I’ve been helping your grandmother ever since.”

I turned my head to the side in confusion, “Wait. You’ve been helping Gran?” He nodded. I turned to look at Gran. This is what she was up to the whole time. “Then who is Anthony?” I asked to Gran and Lucien. “It’s my middle name. Your grandmother loves to call me it instead of Lucien.”

I laughed. I couldn’t believe everything changed in such a small amount of time. I remember old times with Lucien. We played tricks on Old Man Jenson up the road and we even had our first kiss together. I was going to show him my secret place but that was the day my mom shipped us out as far away as possible.

My old feelings for Lucien sparked right back up. But it was something more, he was older and he was even helping Gran. “Are you going to Clearwater High next year?” I asked as I pulled Lucien outside, away from prying eyes. “Yep, I’m going to be a senior. What about you, you haven’t graduated already have you? You were always smarter than me.” I smiled, “No I haven’t graduated yet I’m going to be a senior at Clearwater high next year too.”

His whole face lit up at this. “Ali, are you serious? That is great!” He pulled me into a hug again and I pulled my arms around him tight. He smelled wonderful I never wanted to let him go. He pulled back and looked nervous. “What’s wrong Lucien?” He ran his hand through his hair trying to find the right words.

“You probably didn’t want to live here. Well...I mean leaving everything, your friends and boyfriend.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye. I pulled his chin down to look at me. “I don’t have a boyfriend Lucien. In fact I didn’t want to live here,” He looked away and I jerked his chin so he would make eye contact again. “I didn’t want to live here unless you were here. You make everything better Lucien. We’ve been best friends since we could walk!” He smiled at this and pulled me into his arms.

“What about you? I’m sure you have a girlfriend. You sure did fill out,” I said looking him over for the thousandth time. He laughed, “No girlfriend. If you remember the girls who actually live here, they are the same annoying brats that we played pranks on. The only difference is they grew boobs.” I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I’ve known I liked Lucien since I was twelve. That day came to the front of my memory and I smiled.

“Lucien. I want to show you something,” I pulled him toward the woods. He smiled as he trailed behind me. I came into the clearing for the second time today and this feeling beat that out of the water. I was finally sharing my secret place with someone. “I’ve never shown this to anyone before. It’s my secret place, my place to come and think.” I glanced at him. He looked down and me and grabbed one arm around my waist and instinctively I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he twirled me around before losing his balance and I fell on top of him.

I couldn’t stop my giggling. It just came pouring out of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed like this. After my laughing fit I realized that I was straddling his hips and his hands were planted on my waist. I leaned forward and kissed his nose before falling over to the side.

“Aliea?” he whispered in my ear as I threw my arm across his chest. I looked up into his hazel eyes and smiled, “Yeah, Lucien?” “I’m glad you shared this with me. We’ve been best friends since I can remember. But, I think I want to be something more with you. Your beautiful, smart, funny, devious. Everything I want.” I closed my eyes listening to him as the wind blew softly around us. “Lucy,” he smiled at my old nickname of his. “I’d love to be something more with you.” I giggled again but this time he stopped it with a heart-stopping kiss.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Snappleapple450 Post 2: My Best Friend




My Best Friend


"God, I'm so late!" I scrambled from room to room, grabbing my bag. "Where are my keys?!" Mike was laying in bed with a smug look hiding behind a book. I turned on him and glared, holding my hand out. "I need my keys."

He shrugged innocently, not looking up from the pages. "I have no idea what you're t--"

I pulled him out of the bed and he fell backwards onto the floor. "Mike! Keys!"

He didn't even blink. He continued to read his book that I knew for a fact he lost his page. He was shirtless wearing a pair of red underwear I bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

"Give me the damn keys!"

He chuckled. "So violent!" He said handing the keys over.

I stood up with the keys, triumphantly. He put his book down and rolled over onto his back, frowning up at me. "Why go? You're already late. Why not take the day off? Hang with me." He smiled at the last part.

I sighed, looking at my watch. "I can't...." I turned towards the front door, already regretting leaving him.

"You won't even stay with your best friend?" He asked pleadingly.

I groaned, stopping in my tracks. Sighing, I dropped my keys and bag on the table and turned back around to face him. "You know, you're guilt tripping is just cruel."

He grinned, patting the spot next to him. A smile broke out on my face as I laid next to him. "My guilt tripping has worked for me ever since kindergarten."

I rested my arms behind my head, gazing up at the ceiling. Mike was right, he used his guilt trip back then to get crayons or the biggest piece of cake. Now, here we were, 15 years later, sharing an apartment together, going to college. We were best friends, and had been since the first day we met. We'd been through everything together. He was always there for me. When my boyfriend broke up with me, he was there with a tub of ice cream, a box of Kleenex, and a sappy romance. When I was worried about the school test, he was there with flash cards and optimism. When I got fired from my job, he was there a spray paint and toilet paper. We shared everything and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"We should go to the zoo...." He randomly said, still looking at the ceiling. "We haven't done that in a while."

"Mmhmm," I agreed, still lost in thought.

He turned over and propped his head up with his hand, staring at me. "What are you thinking about?"

I mimicked his movement and stared back at him. "Our past. What are you thinking about?"

His eyes turned soft like they did every once in a while. "Our future."

I didn't move, I didn't react. What did he mean by that? "I...have to go," I said, standing up and heading for the door, my mind confused. He didn't try and stop me for which I was grateful. I needed to think.

I took a long walk through the park, thinking about everything. What was he trying to say? I mean, of course we had a future, he was my best friend... but I never thought of THAT future. Every time he'd hug me, did it mean something different to him? Every time he'd tell me I looked beautiful before I left the apartment, did he really mean it? Every time he'd smile, every time he'd laugh, every time he went through the craziest of my ideas knowing it would end badly...

How long has he loved me?

How many times have I hurt him when I stood him up for my most recent boyfriend? How many times have I missed that look in his eyes when he'd smile at me and I didn't know what he was thinking? How many times have I cried to him about not being able to find my true love and he just rubbed my back and listened?

...How long have I loved him back and not realized it?

My future seemed so clear now. I've always loved him too. I just didn't know it myself! Quickly, I ran back to my apartment, as fast as my legs would carry me. The door was locked so I fumbled for my keys and opened the door. My breath was ragged from the running as I looked around the apartment. I didn't have to check the other rooms to know it was empty. I placed my keys down on the table and saw a little note with a blue construction paper and a pink heart holding it all together. It reminded me of kindergarten, sharing crayons and paper...

I picked up the paper, gently unfolding it to read three small simple words.

"I love you."

I heard his voice come from behind me, the front door still open. I turned around and smiled up at him, a new smile, bringing a new feeling I had never experienced before. I dropped the paper as he pulled me in and kissed me.

Newmoonaholic Post 2: Four




Four


The number four has always been a reoccurring theme in my life. I’m not sure why, but when you’re me, you don’t question such simple things. My sister, Alice, has always told me that the number four is lucky for me. And for the most part she was right, especially since it played such a big part in meeting her.

Like anyone else, most of my early childhood memories are fuzzy and incomplete. A jagged puzzle of early youth, that’s impossible to complete without photographs and parental recollections. But I do have one memory that is about as clear as any memory can possibly be; the day she came into my life.

It was my fourth birthday. I was so excited to tear into my presents and devour the sugar trifecta of cake, ice cream and fruit punch. But my grandma kept telling me that I had to wait for my parents, who were bringing home a special present. I stomped my little foot in petulance and impatience. As far as I was concerned, you snooze-you lose when it comes to cake, so I just couldn’t see why we had to wait.

I soon heard the familiar crunch of gravel as my dad’s car pulled into the driveway. Running for the door, I threw it open to see my parents exiting the car, my mother carrying a large, bulky blanket.

“Daddy! Daddy!” I sang, as I leaped into his waiting arms. He laughed and twirled me around before carrying me into the house on his shoulders. Once inside, he sat down on the couch and positioned me on his lap, as my mother sat beside us with her bundle.

“Bella?” My mother began. “We have someone we want you to meet.” She pulled back the blanket and I was met with a mess of brown hair and big, brown eyes. She looked at me, mirroring my own curiosity. This was the strangest doll I had ever seen, and being unable to resist the urge to touch her, I slowly raised my chubby, little hand and advanced one finger towards her cheek. But just before I poked her, she suddenly displayed a full set of teeth and sank them into my outstretched finger. The sharp pain raced up my arm and out my mouth with such a cry that the doll immediately released my smashed digit, and began a howling of her own.

“Dolly bit me!” I wailed, as my father tried to soothe me. Not only did I feel the physical pain in my finger, my feelings were hurt too. I couldn’t understand why my new dolly would want to hurt me. After a time, when I was sufficiently pacified, my father explained.

“Bella, honey, this isn’t a dolly. This is Alice, your new sister. She’s three years old.”

Tears returned to my eyes, only this time in disappointment. “But I wanted a dolly for my birthday!”

It took about two days before Alice and I were completely inseparable. And although I always maintained a healthy respect for her teeth, she and I could not have been any closer. We did everything together. We shopped together, went to summer camp together, toilet papered the cranky neighbor’s house together, and even insisted any guy that wanted to ask one of us out, have a friend so that we could double. Alice took care of me when I fell and broke my arm, and I held her while she cried, after she finally realized that she couldn’t actually see the future.

Because of how our birthdays fell, we were placed in the same grade in school. I was on the older end of the class and she was on the younger, but all we cared about was that we were together.

“Hey, Alice?” I asked, as I admired my cap and gown in the mirror. “What if someday, something happens and we can’t be together anymore?”

Without missing a beat, and only as Alice could, she flippantly replied, “Keep asking questions like that, and we’re gonna find out.”

Alice always knew what to say, and though her snarky mouth had gotten us into trouble more times than I could count over the years, it talked us out of even more, so I couldn’t complain.

On our fourth day on campus at the University of Washington, I literally walked into my future. As we walked up the steps to the library, a big chunk of air caught on my shoe and sent me flying into a bronze haired god. The deep blush in my cheeks made my mortification obvious as he steadied me on my feet, which was only magnified as Alice spoke up.

“Bella, how many times do I have to tell you not to wrestle with the air? It wins every time!” Alice rolled her eyes dramatically, before addressing the stunned Adonis that was still holding me up. “Please excuse my sister, we have her and her feet in couple’s therapy, but they still can’t find a way to get along.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Please excuse my sister, her mute button broke when she was five and she hasn’t shut up since. I’m Bella by the way.” I extended my hand to the now highly amused upperclassman.

“Edward,” was his simple reply, as he took my hand and flashed a perfect set of gleaming, white teeth through a slightly crooked smile. If I would have died right there, I would’ve happily gone with this image in my mind. “And this is my friend, Jasper.” He indicated to his left and his previously unnoticed, yet oh so yummy, friend stepped forward.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Jasper drawled, in his sweet Texas charm.

Lightning struck twice that day, and four years almost to the day later, Alice and I walked down the aisle. Our proud father in the middle, with each of us linked through one of his arms, as he escorted his girls to their destinies. Our twosome became a foursome and life moved forward in joy and love.

At age twenty-eight, I sobbed on my sister’s trembling shoulder as the doctor explained my prognosis. Without immediate treatment, I had four months to live. With treatment, I still had no guarantees.

“How am I going to tell Edward?” I wept.

Alice gripped my shoulders tightly, shaking me slightly and forcing me to look into her eyes. They were fierce and full of determination.

“Now you listen to me, Isabella. We are going to fight this with everything we have. We are a team and we will never give up. You will live, and we will bounce grandbabies on our laps and take geezer cruises with the two most handsome older men you have ever seen. Do you understand me?” I nodded slightly, before she brought her forehead to rest on mine. “Besides,” she continued, wearing her trademark smirk. “After your surgery, we’ll have a whole new meaning for buy one, get one half off bra sales.”

I didn’t know if I should laugh at her or smack her, so I settled on both.

“Ow!” she protested, before being consumed in my laughter. I’m quite sure the doctor was looking up a psych consult for us, but that just made it funnier.

True to her word, we fought. She cared for me after my mastectomy, and drove me to my chemotherapy appointments when Edward couldn’t. She cried with me when the nausea became overwhelming and kept me laughing when it wasn’t.

It was a beautiful sunny day, a rarity here in Seattle, when Alice showed up to drive me to yet another appointment. She let herself in, as usual, but this time she had a surprise for me.

“Alice? Your hair! You cut it off?” Alice had some of the most gorgeous long brown hair I had ever seen. It had a slight wave to it and was always so silky. But now it was short and sort of exploded all over her head in an array of spikes. I had to admit, she’s probably the only one who could pull it off, and she actually looked quite adorable.

“Well,” she began, sounding nervous. “The wig maker called and said that there wasn’t quite enough of your hair for a proper wig, so I kinda went and gave him some of mine. They can dye it to match. You’ll never notice.”

I couldn’t speak. She had always been so proud of her hair, and with good reason. My throat closed around a lump; my nose stung and my vision blurred. This was, without a doubt, the single most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me.

“Oh stop blubbering,” she suddenly ordered, her voice betraying her attempt at sternness with a slight quiver. “It’s only hair. I can grow more, but I can’t grow another you.”

That did it. The floodgates were open now, and we exhausted ourselves into a mess of tears, snot and swollen faces. Yeah, I said it. We had the ugly cry.

A few months later, Alice surprised me again. The four of us were out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. Alice and I now both sported the same spiky hair. She had kept hers, she said, so that we could grow our hair back out together. We had just finished our main course, when the waiter returned with a small round cake. There was a single candle blazing away in the center, and when I looked at Alice, she simply smiled with shining eyes and mouthed, “That’s one.” I hadn’t even realized what today was until that moment. I had received my prognosis exactly one year prior to that day. I had made it eight months longer than he said, and I felt as though I was getting stronger everyday.

“Are you ready to go, Bella?” Alice called impatiently. The previous night, I had been presented with a four candled cake, and now Alice and I were preparing to leave on a three hour drive, back to visit our childhood home.

“Just one sec,” I called back, before returning my attention to Edward’s lips. Ten years of marriage and I still could not get enough of that man. Reluctantly, I pulled away.

“Hurry back to me,” he whispered into my now long, flowing hair.

“Always,” I replied, giving him one more chaste peck, before running out to the car where my oh-so-subtle sister was laying on the horn in her impatience.

“Alright already! Jeez! Let’s go!” I huffed, as she floored the gas in her typical kamikaze style of driving.

The ride was pleasant when Alice wasn’t terrifying me with her driving. She’s the only person I know who can make something as benign as a lane change seem like a life or death ordeal. But we made it, and as we passed the welcome sign on the outskirts of town, I was instantly flooded with nostalgia. Our parents had retired to Phoenix a couple of years ago, but even without them here, there was still a strong sense of home.

We drove through the town, stopping to chat along the way with some old friends of the family. We ate at the local diner, and visited the store owner that gave us our first jobs. There was a peace here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. It was calming and cathartic.

Continuing our tour, we stopped at the old oak that stood regally at the edge of a vast meadow overlooking the town. The wildflowers were in full bloom, the setting sun illuminating the brilliant yellows and purples.

“No way!” Alice exclaimed, pulling me from my reverie. “Check it out! I can’t believe it’s still here.”

I walked around to where she stood and sure enough, a very familiar scar in the bark stood out. It was the simple carving of two twelve year old girls and it simply said, “I.S. + A.S. = SISTERS FOREVER”.

“C’mon, Bella. It’s been four years. Let’s celebrate.”

Alice grabbed my hand and led me out into the meadow we played in as children. For a moment, we pranced through the flowers without a care in the world, laughing and reminiscing as we went. And as we approached the center, the secret spy headquarters of our youth, Alice suddenly lifted our intertwined hands triumphantly into the air, giggling and yelling.

“Four years! And this is just the beginning!”

I laughed at her typical over-enthusiasm, but also teared up as I was suddenly overwhelmed with love and life. I had so much to be grateful for. I’d had more love in my thirty-two years than most people get in ninety, and I owed most of it to the person standing beside me. My rock, my co-conspirator, my best friend. I could have never imagined that the dolly who cried when she bit my finger would now, twenty-nine years later, be crying as we said our final goodbyes. She was my angel in life, and now I would be hers in death.

Four months after our trip home, I was told that I was no longer in remission. This time, there would be no fight. This time, it would win.

I gazed up into the faces of the two people I loved most in the world, willing their tears away. Leaving them was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had already stolen four years. Four of the most precious years of my life. Not many people get a second chance like I did. A chance to live a little fuller, and love a little deeper. To truly understand the delicate gift of life, and share it with the most amazing people. But I was tired now, and it was time to go.

“Please don’t cry for me. You’ve given me the best life anyone could ever hope for. I will always be watching over you. I love you both so much.”

Using the last of my strength, I reached up and pulled bronze and brown haired heads to my chest. I kissed them both...and closed my eyes.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Destynee_Cullen Post 1: Burned Future




Burned Future


I was walking down a road outside of Seattle. I needed to get away from those two. There was too much testosterone in this coven. I glanced around at the scenery and it tickled a memory in the back of my brain. I didn’t realize what road I was walking down until I reached that set of trees. It brought back fuzzy memories of my human life.

This is where I met him. James.

This is where he changed my life forever.

I could see it now through my hazy memories. I was happy before I met him on this dreaded road. I sighed thinking back to what I had before. To what was ripped away from me.

-:-


I stood in my front yard with the sun beat down on my skin. My red hair flew away with the wind. I closed my eyes taking in the summer air. I couldn’t have been more happy. I felt someone’s arms wrap around my waist and pull me close to their chest. I sighed in defeat, now I couldn’t be happier. I was with the man I love soaking up one of the rare sunny days in Washington.

He lowered his lips to my ear and whispered “What are you thinking about?” I couldn’t help but to turn to him and take his face in my hands. “Spending the rest of my life with the best man.” He smiled and glanced around. “How long do I have until he comes back and takes you away?”

I hit his arm playfully. “You know your my one and only Seth.” I stood on the tips of my toes to reach his lips. He smiled against my lips before deepening the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck begging for more and he didn’t leave me wanting.

“Victoria! Victoria!” I heard a little girl scream playfully.

I groaned pulling my lips from his reluctantly to see Claire running towards us. Seth laughed looking at the little girl run and tackle him in a hug. “Sethy! I want Quil now.” Seth pulled himself off the ground and picked her up agreeing to take her to Quil’s house. He set her down and hugged me good bye.

“Come to my house tonight. I’m going to tell everyone the good news.” He smiled as he glanced at ring finger on my left hand. To tell the truth I forgot it was there. I thought it would feel heavy or out of place. But it feels like it was meant to be there. He took my hand and kissed the ring there.

“I’ll be there at eight if thats okay with you.” I grinned looking over my fiance. “That’s perfect. I better get Claire back to Quil before she has a fit.” He laughed as Claire was tugging on the hem of his shirt. “I love you.” Seth said as he got into the car and drove away.

I ran into my house overjoyed. I couldn’t believe this was it. We would tell everyone we were going to get married and in four short months we would be married! I jumped on my bed rolling on my back with my hair spread around me. I unsuccessfully covered my squeals with my hands. “I have to get ready!” I shouted jumping out of the bed.

I only had three hours to get ready and I didn’t have my best friend Leah to help me out. I raided my closet but with piles of dresses and skirts surrounded around me I decided to head to town really quick. I picked up the keys to my ’98 mercury tracer that always had a tendency to overheat on me. I threw myself into the car tapping the dash. “Please don’t let me down baby. I just need to get a outfit, please don’t overheat.” With my quick prayer I stuck the key in the ignition and it purred to life.

I made it to Seattle with no problems. I was euphoric, I couldn’t be brought down today. I walked into the store as I owned it. I found the perfect dress, it was an off white sundress perfect for tonight. I looked at my cell phone and saw that it was already seven thirty. I only had thirty minutes to get to Seth’s house. I rushed to pay for the dress and headed for the nearest restroom to change.

I climbed into my car and decided to take a short cut through the forest instead of taking the freeway. I rolled my window to enjoy the last of the sunset. Beautiful colors of reds and purples spread across the sky before the blackness swallowed the sun. With the moon came chills down my back.

I pushed my car faster, feeling the chills become more intense. Everything in my body was telling me to turn the car around and take the long way home. Seth would understand right? Before I could make any decisions I saw someone standing in the middle of the road with what I could have sworn were wings. I swerved to miss the person and the car flipped multiple times.

All I could hear was the crunching sound of metal. Finally when all I could hear was silence I tried prying myself from the constricting seatbelt. I began sobbing, feeling blood run down my arms and legs.

I got myself free from the car and crawled out of the ditch that the car now laid in. I turned to see what was in the middle of the road, and there he was. The wings I once thought I saw were gone. A trick of the light. He walked slowly towards me with a smirk on his face.

“Please, please.” Was all I could push from my mouth.

“Please what? What do you have to live for?” He said turning his head to the side studying me on the floor. My ring shined in the light and he grinned looking at it then back to me. “A fiance or already married?” He laughed as if we were long friends catching up. “Don’t tell me you already have two kids and a white picket fence?” His laughed echoed off the trees.

“Please, I beg you. Just help me.” I interrupted his laughter. He laughed at this too.

“Would you want my help if I was to give it?” He asked looking me over again.

Of course I would want his help. I just want to get back to my Seth. “Yes,” I breathed out the pain being too much for me to say much more. He smiled. “I’m not sure you would like the help I am offering.” He said condescendingly. “Please just help me.” I sobbed.

I just wanted Seth. I wanted his warm body around me. I was so cold, I just needed Seth here. He would make everything better. My eyelids shuddered closed and pictures of Seth and I flashed across them. I even saw our wedding it was so beautiful. I sighed in content. I wasn’t hurting anymore, I was drifting into space.

I was almost all the way into bliss when I was struck hard with a fierce fire. I screamed not knowing what was happening. For three days I burned. When I came into this new life I wanted to rip James to pieces. But I was too thirsty to think about anything else. The only reason James is alive right now is because I need someone to teach me to keep out of the Voultri’s way.

James has been very smart in keeping me with him. I can get myself out of anything - except when I needed it most. I tend to leave as soon as he tells me all he knows.

I growl as I hear someone coming up behind me pulling me out of the past. “Victoria. James hears someone playing baseball and he wants to go play,” Laurent explains. I begin to walk towards the sounds of bats cracking. I glance over my shoulder back to the treacherous road. Laurent puts his hand on my shoulder saying, “Victoria, James means well.” I hiss at him and run toward the sounds. My hair whips in the wind as I try to forget what I lost.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Snappleapple450 Post 1: The Phone Call





The Phone Call


I grabbed my last photo, placing a small piece of tape to each corner, securing it to the wall. Standing back, I admired my work.

A bumblebee on a daisy, a hummingbird on a tree branch, a small fish in the artificial pond in the Chinese restaurant back home; all pictures I'd taken from my room in Connecticut. I'd arrived to New York City yesterday, ready to start a new chapter in my life. No one approved of my decision, but I didn't care. I came here in search of something and I wasn't letting anyone talk me out of it.

I laid down on my bed, looking up to the ceiling. If I was being completely honest with myself, it wasn't just something I came to the city to look for. I came to the city in search of something far more important.

Me.

I had lost myself in the arms of a man. He was my first love. I'd never thought I'd be the one to go head over heels for a guy, but it happened. It happened faster than I ever thought possible. We spent every day together, every hour. It was the most magical summer, where I shared my first kiss, my first skinny dipping, my first time making love in the back of his old pick-up truck... He was everything to me and I was everything to him.

Until he had to leave for college.

He went to a fine art school in New York City. The same school I was now enrolled in, starting tomorrow. It was going to be a surprise when he sees me. We've been calling each other every night for the past three months, talking until way past midnight. He'd call, like clockwork, at 7:30 every night. It was now half-past four and I was eager to hear from him. He had told me he had something important to tell me today. I couldn't eat or sleep, I couldn't focus on anything! Curiosity was driving me mad.

I rolled over onto my stomach and stared at the pictures of him. My favorite was the one I'd taken that night in the rain. We had been swimming all day and was just driving home when all of a sudden, thunder clapped, and rain poured down in buckets. The town was empty this late at night, and the street light was flashing yellow. He stopped the truck right under the light and grinned over at me. I stared at him curiously, I had no idea what he was planning.

In one quick movement, he opened his door and ran out into the wet street. I laughed at him as he twirled around in the rain. I lifted my camera and snapped a picture of him. He looked over at me, seeing the camera flash. With a devious grin, he pulled me out. I spun around with him, already soaked to the bone within seconds, my hair curling into its natural waves. As I turned, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to his body, still spinning with me slowly.

I looked up into the sky, rain washing my face. I felt his hand on my neck, moving along my jaw until he moved my head to face him. I smiled at him, he returning my smile lovingly, as he ever-so-slowly leaned down and rested his lips on mine. Our mouths moved in perfect harmony, in sync with the other. His tongue traced my bottom lip, asking for entrance in which I granted with a soft moan. He embraced me as I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Lightning suddenly lit up the sky above us, thunder bursting our ears. I cringed into his shoulder as he led me back to the truck, dripping wet.

That night had been so perfect, now it seemed a whole other lifetime away. The picture couldn't even capture the wonderful look in his eyes, but it helped my memory remember on its own. I sat up and looked at the clock. 6:05pm. I groaned, frustrated at how slow time felt to be moving.

If only I could make time go faster. That's all it ever seemed to do when he and I were together, but as soon as I was alone, it slowed down to unimaginable speed. I couldn't take it. Maybe I could go for a walk until he called. That seemed to be a good idea. Without another thought, I left my new apartment and walked out onto the busy street. I started to mindlessly walk, thinking about all the memories we'd shared and all the memories to come. He was going to be so excited when he saw me. He'd probably take me up in his arms and spin me around before placing me on the ground and kissing me. Or maybe he'd be so happily surprised, he couldn't move. Whatever it was, I couldn't wait to see his smile again. That smile he saves just for me. It was so perfect, it made my heart stop every time.

I walked around, getting lost in my own fantasies and thoughts, and before I knew it, 7:30 had passed. Panic-stricken, I took a taxi back to my apartment building and ran to my room. My answering machine was blinking.

One new message.

Sudden unexplained dread washed over me, like a forewarning. Shakily, I pushed the button to play the message. It beeped. "Hey... It's me. I was kinda praying I'd miss you. It's better this way... I just want to tell you that I... I met someone new. She's amazing, she has black hair and green eyes and... She's a model that goes to this school. We met and got to talking over drinks and... I know this is hard for you, but I just can't do this long distance relationship anymore. I'm sorry. I'll always love you...in a way...but I've moved on. You should too. Be happy like I am. If you love me, you'll be happy for me too. ...Goodbye." The machine clicked.

Message ended.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Intricately Delicate Post 1: DREAM CHASERS




Dream Chasers


“What is life, but a series of inter-spread moments intended to take your breath away?” My mother used to say that to me when I was a child. We would be walking hand in hand through the park; something ‘special’ would catch her eye and before I knew it we’d be having wild adventures, chasing dragons or fairies through the trees. She would tell me to remember every detail. She said the details were what made us who we are.

My mother was an amazing lady but, as people have said many times, she was never really meant for this world. She used to dream too wildly, too far and, quite often, too much. The official term was manic depression, but to me she was a wonder. On the days when she was up we would fly so high even the birds in the sky couldn’t catch us. You would find us dancing and whirling and singing and shouting, till our bodies ached and our voices were hoarse. I loved her deeply and never doubted that the feeling was mutual, even on her dark days when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and pretend the world didn’t exist.

By the time I was 9, she was gone. My logical adult brain knows that she was unstable and that those times we shared weren’t real. Over the years I’ve glorified them in my head and made them into some shining example of what my childhood was. The reality, I’m sure, was very different, but to me those memories shine out brighter than any of the dark days. Her telling me that the bubbles she blew, from the fairy liquid and water mix, were dreams, and that every time I caught one it would come true. Running through the trees on our latest quest was always the highlight of a terrible week, having to go to school or plastering a fake smile on for the latest in a long line of social workers.

My mother was ‘unfit’ to look after me. She forgot to buy bread or fruit or milk or, well, anything at all some days. On others, she’d stock our fridge to the brim with cakes and chocolate and fizzy drinks, giving me free rein to buy and eat what I wanted, when I wanted it. A recipe for an obese child if ever there was one. We would have teddy bear's picnics on the lawn and invite all the local kids to join in. There would be at least half a dozen children sat around on blankets, cuddling teddies to their chests, eating thick cream cakes and drinking lemonade. We would string fairy lights in the trees and hang streamers from all the branches that hung into our garden from next door.

Ben was the only constant. He lived next door but one and would turn up at our house every time we had a gathering, a small smile playing on his lips as he taunted me about my teddy bear's ear hanging off, or the fact that I was wearing a dress. Even at the age of 5 we were constantly one-upping each other. He’d sit on the blanket and shovel carrot cake down his throat at the speed of lightening. His parents never once complained that he came home feeling as sick as a dog because he didn’t know when to stop eating. To this day they still talk about my mother with fondness, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Once all the food had been eaten and all the games my mother made up on the spot were played, everyone would disappear back into the surrounding houses and be absorbed back into their average mundane lives. I never once wished to be a part of them. I liked my chaotic, drama queen of a mother, who ran around barefoot in the grass and told me stories about brave princesses rescuing princes from towers.

We were well known on our street as the crazy lady and her daughter, yet we didn’t care. The adults would carefully avoid our gaze whenever we walked by, while having whispered conversations about how damaged I was becoming and how something should be done about it. I’m sure that if my mother had lived past my 9th birthday, everything would have been different. As my innocence fell by the wayside, so would my ability to see through my mothers flaws and forget the days when she refused to get out of bed. The darkness would no doubt have consumed me to the point where that was all I could see, but it never got to that stage. She was always a princess to me, and so my impression of her remained untainted.

Twenty years later, I can still hear the sound of her voice as she said that phrase. “What is life but a series of inter-spread moments intended to take your breath away?” It still echoes in my mind. She said it so often and begged me to always remember those moments. From the all consuming times you feel so alive and so free that it takes your breath away, to the small intimate moments, where you see or hear something that makes you stop in your tracks just to breath it in. Even now I stop and stare at the flowers growing through the cracks in the pavement. By rights they shouldn’t exist, but they do, fighting for life in the hustle and bustle of a busy street.

I still make lists of the things that have happened each day that I’d like to tell her about, from watching sunlight fall through gaps in the leaves, to dancing in the rain. From the intensity of first kisses to the simplicity of going to sleep smiling, I’m reminded of my mother, and every time it’s like losing her again, the bitter sweet joy of sorrow.

So as I sit here in the car beside Ben, with the music up loud, the roof down and the wind running through my veins, I want to say thank you to her. Thank her for making me stop and take in the little things. These moments of pure joy and abandonment, when I forget that the rest of the world exists and it’s just me and the people I love, trapped in the moment. The sorrow sweeps through me with it and I’m thankful for that too. It means I’m alive. It means I can feel. It means my mother wasn’t just a dream. I turn to Ben and smile. He grins back as he hitches the music up a few more notches and we wail along to the music blaring from his iPod. I know in this moment we are both thinking the same thing. Damn it’s good to be alive.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Newmoonaholic Post 1: DESTINY ROAD





Destiny Road


The crisp, autumn air bit my cheeks and quickly chilled the hot tears that relentlessly flowed, as I rode my bike down the familiar path. My tires spun furiously, kicking up and displacing the vibrant orange and yellow offerings of the tired trees that stood as sentinels on the sides of the road. This route, that only a few days ago held such joy, was now a harsh reminder that autumn comes for everyone. Leaves change and fall to the ground when they are their most brilliant and beautiful. Just as the souls of the ones we love wither and float away when they are their most enchanting.

My breath hitched as I slowed to take the final curve that would open to the sight I dreaded and longed for all at once. The lake, placid and peaceful, held my heart hostage as the uneven cobblestones rattled my tense frame. Only after I stopped completely, did I realize that my body shook of its own accord.

This morning, like all the others before, held a majestic quiet that echoed through the mist. The soft sound of the water lapping at the rocks was like a natural lullaby that soothed the soul. I wish I had been able to understand the draw to this place sooner. So much time had been lost through my ignorance.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to chase away reality and for one more day, just one, open my eyes to see him there. Sitting, to the left side of the bench overlooking the lake, as he had everyday for the last twenty years. For much of it, there was a lady to his right. But not in five years time. The cancer that stole him from the earth, had stolen her already.

I can still see him there, watching the birds with intense fascination as they squawked and fought over one small scrap of food. I imagine his seat is still warm and his peppermint and soap scent hangs in the air. Tugging my coat around me tighter, I take my first walk to this hallowed bench alone. He had always been there, beckoning me to join him and to hear the stories of his youth. The adventures were almost too fantastic to believe, but my youthful exuberance and hero worship had me hanging on every word and begging, “please Grandpa, tell me more.”

His responding chuckle would warm me like the summer sun, and I would be engulfed in another fantastic tale. I think my favorite though, was when he would tell how he met my grandmother. It was the most tame of his stories, but the most heartfelt as he told of the day he traveled the same road as I had just travelled this morning, for the countless time and had his life irrevocably altered.

It was bright out; much brighter than usual, and the sun blinded me from time to time as it peeked between the thinning branches. The road, already littered with autumn’s cast offs, was so familiar to me that it greeted me like an old friend. The sputter of the playing card in the spokes of my bicycle tire sliced through the silent morning with precision, announcing the arrival of another carefree day. It was joy, in its simplest form. To be so young and untainted by the world. To fly with the birds and run on the wind. So open and so free.

I was so enveloped in my freedom, however, that I almost missed the sweetest sight these eyes have ever seen. She was a vision of beauty as she sat lazily under the tall oak. As I got closer though, I could see that her posture was not so much lazy as it was defeated. Adrenaline laced panic surged through my veins as I hastened in desperation to see what could possibly be tormenting such an angel.

The steady cadence of my tortured playing card announced my arrival, and she glanced up with such hope in her eyes that I found myself instantly vowing to see her happy for the rest of our lives. Our greetings were shy and awkward as we each seemed mesmerized by the other. She indicated to her bicycle, and I had to work to tear my eyes away from her long enough to take in the flat tire that had stranded her. Ever so slowly though, our trances lifted and our conversation began to flow with ease. Such ease in fact, that it was only her shiver that indicated the lateness of the hour. And once again I found myself on the familiar road. But this time I walked, carrying on my back with pride, the mangled catalyst to my destiny.

My tears were gone now, for no other reason than I was no longer capable of producing them, as I sat and stared out across the water. His presence was strong there, much stronger than amongst the mourners back home with their endless stream of sympathies. I don’t want those. I want him.

Drawing my knees up under my chin, I hugged my legs with vigor, clinging to the tiny comfort it provided. Time seemed to stand still, and yet I knew it wouldn’t. And as the sun began to finally break through the clouds that had it trapped, I was startled by a throat being cleared behind me. Stunned, I looked up and into the most enchanting blue eyes. They held wonder and concern, as their owner cocked his head slightly to one side.

“Are you ok?” he gently asked.

“Not really, no.” I rasped out in reply.

“May I sit with you?”

A nod was all I could muster, and he slid gracefully in next to me. The silence was comfortable for a while, but soon he began making benign comments and asking simple questions. He never pried, or said anything that was remotely intrusive, and before long I actually found myself laughing a bit and enjoying our easy conversation.

The sun eventually began to lose it’s battle with the clouds, and I knew I needed to go home. I could face it now. I knew I could.

The familiar path greeted me once again, but this time with hope. Hope for renewed joy and amazing adventures. Hope for a future enhanced by the past. Hope for love, true and deep. My grandfather’s time was done. But as my destiny now walked beside me, I knew that my time had only just begun.