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The Attic

You can travel hundreds of miles to leave something behind, but can you ever run from perfect vampire memories? Why leave it all when everything you see causes you to remember?
Set during the time Edward is away from Bella in New Moon.

The picture Edward sees wasn’t originally meant to actually be of Edward and Bella, but I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t have had a photo of Bella with him. He thinks he’s never going to see her again, so he could easily have had a picture to remember her by.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or New Moon. Unfortunately, I don’t own Edward either. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made from this story.

1. Chapter 1

Rating 5/5   Word Count 890   Review this Chapter

Dark. It was all around me, and it filled my insides as well. How fitting that was.
Why I hadn’t turned the light on, I wasn’t sure. I’d been sitting here awhile now.

The rain drummed on the roof, washing away the grime of recent weeks. When it stopped, everything would be clean. I wished the rain could wash my pain away and leave me clean too. The steady drone as it hit the roof was soothing. It let me forget for a few moments...

I couldn’t remember why I had come in here, but I remembered seeing the picture I now held in my hand. As soon as I looked at it, my carefully constructed defences collapsed. How could I have been so stupid?

The picture showed a tall, copper-haired boy with his arm around a small, pale girl.

“Bella.” I whispered her name to the darkness. She was so beautiful. I sighed. Why had I left her? I’d asked myself that so many times. But I couldn’t go back. She had to have her own life, not a half-life spent with me.

I tried to force my thoughts in a different direction. I didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts just now.

As I sat here, I looked around at the contents of the attic. There were so many reminders here… things that brought me back to the time I’d spent with Bella. The rocking chair in the corner, for instance - Bella had one in her room, only hers was newer and quieter than this one, with a comfy blue cushion on the seat and a white blanket hung over the back. I’d sat there so many times, watching her sleep. I never got tired of being there, watching over her through the night. I could be there now, rocking gently back and forth as I listened to her soft breathing.

But I’d left her. I had to, I reminded myself. Eventually, she’d have wanted to grow up, and I could never do that, no matter how old I really was.

There was a small chest of drawers quite close to me, with some old pans on top. How did things like that end up in an attic, I wondered? Bella loved to cook. She spent so long in the kitchen, making dinner for Charlie and herself each night. Sometimes I tried to help her, but most of the time I just got in the way, so she made me watch instead. I loved watching her cook, seeing her smile as she worked, and the way she gently chewed her lip when she concentrated.

I tore myself back to the present. It had been for the good of both of us that I left. My eyes wandered again. There was a bookshelf in here as well, filled with the stories that had spilled out from cramped shelves in the bedrooms below. Bella had shelves like that in her house. She spent most of her spare time reading.

I recalled one particular afternoon in the summer, when we’d sat outside in the sunshine together. She had been reading one of her favourites for the umpteenth time, and was trying to convince me to read it. We spent the rest of the day arguing about that. I loved those simple things we did together. Had done, I corrected.

I hadn’t treasured those moments enough, I knew that now. I would give anything to enjoy another carefree hour with Bella. But those times were in the past. Even if I could go back to her, which was impossible, we could never be free of what had happened. The lies I’d told her. And the danger she’d been in when Jasper lost it.

This was another topic I didn’t want to dwell on, so I looked at the bookshelf again. On the top was a box of paints. There were several colours, but the one I noticed was the red. I laughed at myself, at how even a pot of paint could remind me of Bella. The red made me think of her blushing. The blushing was one of the things I loved most about Bella. The simplest things made her turn bright red, letting me know when she was hiding something.

I remembered when we first started talking to each other, and she wouldn’t tell me why her favourite gemstone was topaz. That was the kind of thing that made me love her blushing. It gave me a rare insight into her thoughts, and they were never what I was expecting.

She was forever tripping up as well, which made her cheeks turn red. It was unbelievable how clumsy she was. But it made her smile when I caught her. Was someone else catching her now, I wondered? I hoped there was for her sake, but the selfish part of me still hoped she would take me back if I returned.

How could I ever have left?

The rain was still falling outside. I closed my eyes to stop the memories, knowing that the attempt was futile. I could never forget her. For now, though, I would sit here in the dark. It was as good a place as any to stay, and the rain was soothing, so perhaps I could rest for a while, even though I was denied the release of sleep. I let my mind drift, surrounding myself with the drumming and the dark.