Forgiveness is Divine
This is much like those overly-written stories about Bella's vampire life and such. I just thought I'd do my interpretation of it, mainly because I was bored as anyting. One hundred years later, Bella is moving back to Forks with her own family. They go to Forks High School and run into some strangers (to the rest of her family) that Bella never thought she'd run into again (with one addition).
1. Chapter 1: The Northern Downpour Sends it's Love
Rating 3/5 Word Count 2526 Review this Chapter
“No way! That’s my poster!”
“Nuh-uh! You got the Ace of Spades one! This one’s mine!”
“No, you took that one! All I got was Murder Cruise Ship!”
“Well, this one’s mine!”
“No, it’s mine!”
“NO IT’S NOT! ITS MINE!”
“Hey! GIVE IT BACK!”
“It belongs to me!”
“NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”
“Me? You did that!”
“No, it was you!”
“No, it was- BELLA!” I sighed.
“BELLA, SHE RIPPED MY ALEX STARLY POSTER!”
“NO, IT WAS MY ALEX STARLY POSTER! AND YOU RIPPED IT!”
“Now it’s no one’s poster! Get over it.” I shouted coldly from downstairs.
Of course I knew that wouldn’t be the end of it – Amy and Megan could go on like that for hours. I should have known better than that. But Zach could handle the next fight. I wasn’t up for it.
I wasn’t sure exactly why I had agreed when Zach had suggested moving here. He’d been doing some research on the cloudiest places in America – it had been time to move after Amy and Megan had nearly exposed us in another one of their cat-fights. Normal teenage girls shouldn’t be able to smash full sized picnic tables over one another’s heads.
At any rate, Zach had proposed we move to Washington. The girls wanted Seattle, but Zach reminded them that we had just lived there, not even seventy years ago. Of course, Amy didn’t remember, since we’d saved her just after leaving. The only place left was good old Forks, since Quileute wasn’t an option (I didn’t answer when they asked me why – it seemed like a nice place to them), and it had shown up on the Top Five cloudiest places in America instead of Forks. Much to my regret, I suggested Forks, and Zach did some research and got some pictures and For Sale listings.
And here we are, back in my home-town. Not much had changed other than the faces (and the tombstones), and it hurt remembering my life here. Unlike others of my kind, I was gifted with memory (though I didn’t specially want it), and remembered a hundred years back, when I was still human.
But I pushed those thoughts back, since they were painful and unnecessary. The names, the faces – all in the past. They were all dead – wince – and forgotten – double wince – and behind me. Literally.
As if I couldn’t have gotten more coincidences in my life (death), we lived just a five-minute walk (two second run) from Forks Cemetery, where most (and surely not all) of the people from my past life were buried. Angela, Mike…Charlie- STOP. Reminiscing would help nothing.
I jumped up from where I was sitting, startling Zach. He opened his mouth, about to ask me a question, but I was gone before he even got the question. I decided I would set up my room. I slammed the door behind me, so they might get the hint I wanted to be left alone. Amy and Megan’s bickering stopped almost instantly.
I started by assembling the large, Queen sized bed – even though I didn’t sleep – by myself. The instructions said it was a ‘team’ effort, and I scoffed. It was made of a fine Cherry wood, and assembled easily, transforming into a luxurious four poster bed.
There were only two reasons I even needed a bed, and not for the two obvious reasons that most people would think. One, I didn’t sleep (which I’ve stated), and two, I have no boyfriend to speak of, making the other option out of the question. My reasons were less obvious than that.
One, I like to be comfortable when I’m relaxing with my music.
Two, Megan was always giving her weekly boyfriend a tour of the house, not paying heed when I told her not to bring anyone into my room. We’d already gone through that issue once, and we didn’t need another Frankenstein-like mob at our front door.
I started assembling the bookcase, which was made out of the same wood as the bed, but a bit easier to assemble (meaning it came together in like, two seconds), and then opened the box of books I’d unloaded from the moving van. I lined up the spines on the shelves, reading the titles before moving on.
Wuthering Heights, the Jane Austen collection, A Tale of Two Cities, Anne of Green Gables, Romeo and Juliet, Othello, Macbeth, and various others. Amy hadn’t approved, saying they were dusty and out-dated. But I told her I wasn’t giving up my books for anything.
I set up my stereo beside the book case. It reminded me of a certain entertainment system I’d seen in a previous life, but this was much newer, and the surround sound was much better. I popped in a few CD’s (it had a ten CD disk changer), and hit shuffle twice, setting it to the ‘shuffle songs and albums’ mode.
The first song that came on was a favorite of mine, “The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes” by Fall Out Boy. I heard a loud groan from two rooms over, and laughed briefly. Megan and Amy both hated my music, saying it was old and boring. They listened to that new Hip-hop/Rock/Rap crap that sounded like absolute garbage, and put good music to shame.
I worked long into the night, finishing just before six. By then, everything had been set up. My clothes were in the closet, my books were on the shelves, and I’d even put up the pictures I hadn’t set up at the last house. I had laid the red and gold comforter on top of the bed, and hung up the matching curtains in the window.
A soft tap at my door made me turn. The door creaked open, and Megan poked her head in. Her bangs fell in her eyes, and she blew the blonde strands away disdainfully. Her pink-painted fingernails grasped the door frame, and her lilac perfume drifted my way.
“Turn that crappy music off and get ready for school,” she said light heartedly, laughing.
I froze. “School?”
“Didn’t Zach tell you? We’re starting school today!”
“No, he didn’t tell me,” I growled.
“Why are you so upset? It’s just school.” She opened the door wider and stepped in, and I took in her flawlessly stunning designer outfit. The Gucci pumps she “just had to have”, the denim jeans with holes already in them that cost two-hundred bucks, and the over-the-top pink cashmere sweater. Her full lips were covered in “Passionate Pink” shimmery lip gloss, and her eyelids covered in the expensive makeup that she didn’t need.
“I don’t…well, I um…” I sighed in defeat. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll go.”
“You have to go anyways! Did you really think we’d let you stay home and sulk?”
Megan’s gaze shifted to my bedside table, where the picture frames were propped up. Her eyes popped open wide, and she was beside them in a heartbeat (or lack thereof). “What are these?”
She picked up one and held it close to her face, as if she couldn’t see it from a distance. It was the medium sized one that contained a picture of Charlie, my father. “Who’s this old guy?”
My blood boiled, and I felt my face transform into an angry glare. “That’s none of your business!”
She seemed startled by my sudden out burst, because she jumped, almost dropping the picture frame.
“BE CAREFUL WITH THAT!”
She held her empty hand out in front of her reassuringly as she gently placed the frame on the table. She picked up the largest one, examining it and holding it delicately in her small hands.
The larger one was the picture from when I was born that had been taken at the hospital. Renee and Charlie smiled together with me between them for what was surely the last time.
Her eyes flickered up to my face and back down to the picture, then back again.
“These are your parent’s aren’t they?”
“Don’t tell them!”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Why would you be ashamed? I’d be happy to even remember my parents.”
“I’m not-” I sighed and started over. “Just don’t tell them, please.”
“Okay, I won’t,” she paused. “But why?” Before I could answer, she looked back at the picture, squinting to make out something at the bottom of the frame. “Forks Hospital?”
I hung my head in defeat.
“So that’s why you wanted to come here! Wait ‘till Amy hears thi- Oh, right.” She looked up at me apologetically. She gingerly replaced the frame in its spot, then picked up the final picture. It was the smallest one. My fist clenched automatically.
“Ooooh, who’s this?” She squealed with delight.
“No one,” I said with my jaw clenched.
“I said it’s no one.”
“Who is he?”
“Megan,” I warned, my voice raising an octave in pitch.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
I snapped. My hand flashed out and yanked the frame from her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I said it’s no one!” I screamed. Her eyes widened, and she shrank back, terrified.
“I just wanted to know who it was,” she said, her voice turning pathetically sad.
“I’m…sorry. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sorry I bugged you about it,” she said shamefully.
“No, I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s not your fault you’re terribly annoying.” I laughed playfully to lighten the mood.
Twenty minutes later, Zach was pulling out of the driveway in his dark blue Ford pick-up (the kind with a backseat, too). Megan and Amy sat in the back, fighting over whose backpack was better, and whose new cell phone charm was cuter. I switched on the radio, and scanned through the high-definition stations until I found an oldies station. Sadly, my music had been labeled as oldies in today’s world.
“Ugh, seriously? Can we please listen to something other than oldies for once?” Megan groaned from the backseat.
“Yeah, really. How about that new metal/pop station? They have that new song I like, ‘Murder me Beautiful’.” Amy piped up from behind me.
“No way! That new stuff is horrible!” I countered, turning my head to glare.
“It’s better than this old crap!”
“You wouldn’t know good music if it hit you over the head with a guitar!”
“Of course,” Megan sighed. “People don’t beat people up with instruments anymore, Bella. That’s so…last century!”
“It’s my car, and I say we listen to Bella’s music,” Zach said, speaking for the first time. The girls groaned from the back.
By then we had arrived at the school, and Zach found a parking spot quickly. Four doors slammed simultaneously, and four pairs of feet hit the wet asphalt. Amy came to walk beside me was we made our way to the office, her charcoal hair sticking out around her head in all directions.
Unlike Megan, Amy was a punk, wearing chunky black boots and black pants with chains on them, black t-shirts with some kind of morbid image on them – today was Jack Skellington from the new version of The Nightmare Before Christmas – and dozens of safety pins poking out from almost every inch of clothing. In her ears she had several earrings, one eight gauge on each ear with two twelve gauges to accompany them, and dangling from the lobes were two little crosses. She had a matching cross around her neck, this one larger and heavier, hanging from a thick red ribbon the color of blood. She thought that wearing crosses was ironic to her (since we were vampires) and that increased the desirability of them – or whatever.
On my other side was Zach, and Megan walked beside him. And I thought, aren’t we a sight? Four mysteriously beautiful (to them) new kids, one in the most exclusive designer labels and another the exact opposite with freaky peircings and strange chained pants, and two completely normal teens between them. I laughed to myself at the rumors I already knew they would be spreading.
We entered the claustrophobic office room and gave the secretary our names. She handed us a large stack of papers before turning to assist another student. I led them out of the office and back into the downpour, where we went to stand under an overhang.
The school was different from what I remembered, no longer a bunch of single buildings, but one larger building (but still small) and a separate office building. I wondered if we got lockers now.
A bell rang loudly from a speaker above us, and a set of doors opened to allow entry to students. We stood in the lobby comparing schedules and locker assignments (thank god for that – my bag was sure to get heavy soon) for a few minutes before splitting off in pairs. Zach had homeroom and first period with me in room 13, and Amy and Megan had their class on the opposite end of the building in room 27. Apparently, there were only fifty classrooms divided onto the two floors.
At the door we were greeted by an elderly woman (who looked like she would croak any minute), who signed our pink slips and gave us two seats in the back of the classroom. Of course, students stared us down as we walked down the aisle, but Zach didn’t notice and I pretended to do the same.
“Do you smell that?” I looked over at Zach, who was sitting, erect, in his chair next to me.
“Smell what?” I sniffed the air. And then I realized what he smelled. It was a vampire. Not just one, but a whole bunch of them. And the smell was coming closer and closer.
The bell rang, and the teacher closed the door and stood at the front near the chalkboard. She picked up a flimsy notebook – which she struggled to fold properly so that it would stay straight – and begun to call role.
The scent was coming closer and closer until someone knocked on the door. The teacher (who’s name I still didn’t know) sighed and dropped her notebook on her desk before answering the door.
“Nice of you two to join us,” she said curtly as two students emerged in the doorway.
One was tall, with perfectly tousled bronze hair and pale, ivory skin. The other was a girl, with long chestnut hair that waved down to the small of her back, and the same paler-than-pale skin. The boy looked up to meet my gaze, and I gasped in horror.It was Edward.
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