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Two Wrongs Don't Equal a Right

Summary:
Despite her efforts to keep the visions of Bella at bay, one slips through and then they assault her with a fury. So when she decides to act, it's just for self-protection, because a few more of these and she may go crazy... At least that's what she'll tell Edward in her defense. I CHANGED SOMETHINGS RECENTLY PLEASE RE-READ CHAPTERS 6&7 AND NOTE THAT THEY HAVE SWITCHED; ALONG WITH THE ADDITION TO CHPTER 7!!


Notes:


4. Ghosts Strolling in Paris

Rating 0/5   Word Count 592   Review this Chapter

I was watching the Parisian scenery flash by in a state of numb indifference. The sky was a steel grey; fat droplets smacked the pavement as the rain seemed to pour from the sky ceaselessly. Some people glanced up as my car went past, to spend a few moments speculating my identity, it was a human obsession, the curiosity regarding who sat behind the darkened windows of expensive cars. I watched a young couple stroll down the Champs Elysees, their entwined hands swinging between them; my heart gave a brief but painful tug as she threw her head back and laughed, the twinge becoming more pronounced as he joined her in laughing then wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her to him.

Edward had wanted to bring Bella here in the first two weeks of Christmas break, he would have had her back in time to spend the holiday itself with Charlie. I could imagine them, in a fashion so real I was surprised when the people on the street didn't stare and marvel at the glow their obvious love gave off. My Edward and Bella were strolling under a black umbrella; Bella would be wearing the blue dress that I wanted to buy for her, (the weather was wet but not cold). Bella would be tugging on Edward's hand, trying to get him to go faster, the probability of her falling forgotten in her enthusiasm to see the city. She would be so excited, to wander along St. Germaine street, climb the Eiffel Tower and meander through the Lourve. The imagined Edward and Bella were now sitting in an out-door café, Bella with her baguette and latte, Edward with nothing at all. He was laughing at something that had been said, his eyes twinkling as they swept along Bella's face, his grin widening at her blush.

The car was stopped at a light and I watched the figments of my imagination wait for a crosswalk, huddled tight together under their umbrella. As I watched them, the memories I had of them from my most recent visions slipped into my mind, tainting the idealistic versions. Now the Bella standing on the street corner was deathly pale, the plum colored circles under her eyes pronounced, her hair shifted in the wind, knotting and dulling, she blinked her eyes losing their sparkle, dying. Edward's transformation was less dramatic, but just as poignant. His eyes hollowed, darkened to a frightening onyx, taking on this haunted look, his pain evident in their depths. His posture shifted, from the easy swagger of the Edward that Bella had known he seemed to crumple into himself, dissolving. His face though, was what bothered me the most, the way the happiness and hope and laughter was leeched from it in a matter of seconds, leaving behind a mutilated expression.

I attempted to drag in a breath, failing as I watched these mutated versions of people I loved, or shall I say person and vampire I loved, it seemed as though there was a million pounds of lead weighting resting on my chest, as though my lungs had been filled with cotton. I forced my eyes to close. When I opened them, the illusory Edward and Bella were gone, and I felt as though I could breathe once again, but the weight did not lift from my chest, though I was now under the impression that that had been there since he first left Bella, but I was only becoming aware of it now.