Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Dream's Shadow

This is my take on the over- and usually poorly- done plot. Edward leaves Bella again. She is changed and they meet again in the future. There will be a big twist! Requested by Iris. Banner by Iris!

Try it! I know stories like this usually stink, but I thought I'd give it a try. I own nothing. Stephenie Meyer owns all.

15. Chapter 15

Rating 5/5   Word Count 575   Review this Chapter

He’s not the villain here, I am. It’s well within his right to leave me. He probably hasn’t even considered my broken heart.

Who would? What am I that he should remember me?

Rather I should be glad for the fleeting moments.

And yet I cannot find it within me to do aught but want him…

Edward, Edward, Edward.

He is so near I feel no need to forbid myself his name. It hurts, of course, but not with the sick aching emptiness… I am whole. He is not a hundred feet away from me at this very moment.

I can, with my vampire ears, hear him in his room, two floors straight up. I do not torture myself by listening, yet there is an unmistakable sound, loud enough I cannot ignore it.

The sound is his beloved music.

Yet it holds none of the sweetness I recall…

I hear his fingers begin on the keys.

The beat is slow and low. Three identical wavering notes hover in the air, setting a sad tone. A tiny break separates each deep sound.

Then another sound breaks in. I can almost see his long, delicate fingers dancing over the keys, left hand beating out trios of deep weeping notes, like little sets of triplets, as his right hand sings on the higher notes.

It does not begin fast. It starts out weaving in and out at the same pace as the metronome-like low sounds. The tune is complex, though. High, higher, high, higher, pause, higher, higher, highest… long pause, high, middle, low…

He repeats again. This time the notes linger half as long.

And again.

And again.

The slow and the fast make up a beating, churning, discordant and yet perfect melody.

There is no love here. Different than the music I remember, though it is the same impossibly complex beauty. That was sweet, pulsing, slow and soft then fast and joyful. This too winds to a climax, but it is not bliss, it is agony.

He plays, as he always has, upon an instrument that sings the same tune as my heart.

The music grows a bit faster. Now he weaves in other notes, seemingly random. They flee to the edges of the tune…

They are nonsense. And then I realize as the beat expands in velocity that they follow the same pattern, high, higher, high, higher, higher, higher, highest, high, middle, low…

Just more extreme.

I begin to sob. My heart speeds in time to the increasing fervor of the beat. The seconds, nay, the world, seems to swarm at the same pace. The room spins, the multicolored spines of books a kaleidoscope of impossible whimsy. They are a rainbow, and then they are one, and then a rainbow again.

I sob. I can feel the inside of my soul crack, brittle, dry for lack of rain, for want of love.

The music speeds further. I slip from the bed, collapse, fall to the floor with a thunderous crash. My knees then my hands strike the ground, but they cause no pain. Even if I were human, that would be a mere annoyance compared to the great rending agony in my heart.

As the world closes, pulsing, in on me, I hear a cry as pained as I…