Author: agnelle / bellaswan
Spoilers: End of Twilight, but set towards the end of Breaking Dawn.
Summary: Thoughts of the past, Bella's memories regarding James.
Comments: This is a re-write of an old diary entry, I've edited it to be more canon to Breaking Dawn. It's written a little choppily, but I felt it fit due to the fact that Bella only remembers so much. Regarding the title? I recommend you all listen to Radiohead's "A wolf at the door" -- VERY fitting.
They say that before you die, life flashes before your eyes – every defining moment, fast forwarded like an instant replay… When I died, all I could see was red surrounding every last minute. The pictures in my mind were on fire, set ablaze by the fire coursing through my veins. A feeling I knew all too well…
In instant, I’m taken back to this memory; something I had kept hidden inside of me. Things I hadn’t talked about since the moment they’d happened because all I could do was bury them and hope they would never resurface. I’m talented at forgetting, I do a good job of it.
And yet, when the memories are uncovered all I can do is relive them. Like watching a horror movie but the theatre is empty; there was no one to hold onto, no arm tightly wrapped around me, no one whispering in my ear to remind me that everything on the screen wasn’t real. I’d believe the lie, I’d tell myself they weren’t real despite knowing very well that the truth was – the girl on screen not only looked like me, she was me. I could lie to myself if it meant I didn’t have to believe.
The fire in my veins brought back the face that haunted my dreams. Though I’d never told anyone, I had suspected long ago that Edward had heard me scream in my sleep. Why he never brought it up was a mystery – I’d assumed he was too polite to say anything or ask what was going on inside my head. I’m sure that much frustrated him enough and I didn’t need my inability to adequately explain things to him without him blaming himself to cause problems for the both of us. I knew he’d already blamed himself enough; all he ever did was blame himself.
No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t know how to explain what had happened; how can you possibly explain something that had never happened? According to the rest of the world, I had fallen down a flight of stairs and the lies Edward told sounded so convincing that even I began to believe them. Maybe I wanted to believe them, because in the back of my mind I could remember quite vividly the look on James’ face as he approached me…
It was easy to make out the face of the monster – the tracker who wanted me dead for the simple fact that I was a game to him, that once he had caught my scent he wouldn’t quit until he'd killed me. I was his most exciting game because he saw the body language, the way Edward leaned towards me naturally as if a bullet would hit me at any moment and he’d jump in front of it to save me, because he saw the look in Edward’s eyes. This was the first time I truly saw how much Edward loved me, how he for some unknown reason has considered me to be 'worth it'… But I knew I wasn’t worth it. The Cullens risked everything, risked their lives to protect not only me, but Charlie too and for what? Because as they said, I made Edward different – a positive difference – I made him happy.
I still remember that night, more vividly than I care to. Sometimes, I wish I could just forget… forget the look on Charlie’s face as I lied to him, declaring I’d decided to leave in the meanest way I could manage; the way the entire Cullen family stared at me, completely unsure exactly how to handle the situation at hand though they’d never admit it; I remember Jasper’s words, trying his hardest not to get close to me as he attempted some form of comfort; and above all things, I remember Edward’s face, the way his eyes looked vacant as he left me behind.
What I don’t remember is everything in between, I have no idea how exactly long it took for us to make it from Washington to Arizona; I have no real recollection of that part – But, I remember Alice pulling me against her chest as I cried… her skin was cold, hard, just like his and while the smell was different, it was comforting and I clung to that comfort because it was all I had. By morning, we had already made it to California and before night we were in Arizona… Everything from there is a blur, like it’s slowly fading away – I remember waking up in the hotel room, though I don’t recall ever falling asleep.
Things blur together from a combination of utter depression and sleep deprivation: I remember Edward’s voice, I remember Alice drawing the Ballet Studio, and when Alice drew my house… it was the last straw. Like everything suddenly clicked and I needed to stand up and do something. He had tracked me straight to the one person I would take a speeding bullet for; my mother was my best friend! Charlie’s life was already at risk, Edward’s, the rest of the Cullen family… And when I heard her voice – panicked, afraid – I couldn’t help but do as I was instructed and I ran as far as I could – as fast as I could by foot, by cab, to my house, and then –
The sound of cracking bones, glass shattering, the smell of blood… He was going to kill me, he was going to make me suffer, he was going to… but no, not yet – first he’d taunted me, mock me, mock the attempts made to keep me safe. Not only did he want me to suffer, but he wanted Edward to suffer as well. I remember is the pain… and how he filmed all of this, a sick form of torture to be left behind for Edward to watch; He snapped my femur with his bare foot, and then a crash – shattering glass and I was pushed into the broken mirrors.
I truly believed I had died, but the pain was too intense for death – I was drowning and on fire at the same time. I wanted so badly to just die if it meant the pain would stop… But then something brought me back into focus, the voice of my angel. I could hear him… them… but they were arguing, and when I saw Edward’s face, there was just so much sadness. I’d never seen him look so sad, as if he would break down… He brought his lips to my hand… he… God, why is it that still remember all of this?
A broken leg, a cracked skull, four broken ribs, and countless bruising; what a small price to pay in exchange for my life and yet, in the end all I wanted was to die… only this time, it was for different reasons.