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Everything I Can't Remember

Bella is changed, but something is wrong. The blinding pain that accompanies the change has wiped her memory completely. How will the Cullens catch a spooky newborn who doesn't remember them? How will Edward react? And how in the world is Bella going to handle herself?


1. Chapter 1

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1623   Review this Chapter

Pain. That was the whole world, everything. Burning, searing pain that ate up my self and left it shattered.

I thought I had had a body, two arms, and legs, but now there was only the pain.

A high, screeching wail was my constant companion.

Curiously, as the wail went up and down, pain from one small area seemed to rise and fall.

Finally, that area, my throat I remembered, was just too dry and soar, and now the wail fell silent while a rasping whisper took its place.

This too, was painful.

What is that?

There, something sweet, something that smells unbearably good, delicious even.

Pain and more pain.

There, there it is again.

For a moment the pain dulls the tiniest bit, and there is something hard and cold on my … arm, that’s it.

As it traveled up to touch my face, the pain drew back a bit more, so I became aware of a smooth sound, caressing my ears, bringing me a new emotion, something sweet and gentle in this unbearable sea of pain.

I felt the pain surging, preparing to wash me under, but I held on to the sound, a voice I realized, to the touch, and to the smell that tickled some memory that was being burned away by the pain.

But, like swimming against a rip tide, it proved useless as my hold on the beauty ripped free and I drowned once again in the burning.

Finally, I rolled what little of my self that was left into a small ball in the center of my being.

I was tossed about, bashed again and again with that pain, knowing nothing, screaming, praying, begging for an end, and, eventually, forgetting about any possibility other than pain.

For an eternity I existed only in the now of the pain and burning.

Then, my world of pain stopped abruptly and tossed me out into a new world.

For a while I just lay there, waiting for the pain to come back.

It seemed to be gone, but for a bit it concentrated in my throat, making it tight and dry.

I would have to do something about that soon. It was making it hard to concentrate.

Spreading my awareness out, I felt something soft under me, something that seemed to be made up of many tiny pieces of …something thin, all wound together.

After a few tries, I opened my eyes.

I gasped, shocked and delighted.

There was a new world around me, full of colors and shapes and wondrous things I had never imagined.

Somehow, though I did not remember anything before this moment, I thought that the golden fabric of the walls seemed clearer, more defined.

The wrought iron and the tiny roses seemed more real somehow, clearer.

There were tiny imperfections in the graining of the metal, little rough spots on the roses, and I could see them all.

Something told me I should not be able to see them this way.

For a moment I contemplated that.

Why should I not be able to see the every thread of the sheet that I lay on. How did I know that it was a sheet?

Were not these roses?

How did I know that? And how did I know that roses were really red flowers and smelled very sweet?

Clearly, there were thing I needed to find out.

But, there were so many things to wonder about! My senses were pouring in information.

I was somewhere with rain and trees and cold wind.

I was in some kind of structure that creaked in the wind, and the breeze eddied around its frame.

On the air was the taste of pine and something bitter and wet. The softness of the sheets, everything that made this new world so vividly. So much better than the old world of pain.

All this time, I had moved nothing but my darting eyes.

Now, I slowly lifted myself from the bed, sitting up to take up more of the room. In the corner were racks upon racks of CDs.

I could read each label from my place on the bed. As I moved, I caught a deliciously sweet scent that made me freeze.

Foreign emotions burst into bloom at the scent.

I whipped myself around to investigate. There, in a chair beside the bed, was a man.

No, boy.

No, somewhere in between, a teenager.

He had thick bronze hair that fell just right over his perfect face.

His skin was smooth, pale white, too pale, something told me.

Cocking my head, I studied his face.

I locked gazes with golden eyes that were, at this moment, completely astonished.

He was the most beautiful thing I hand ever seen, not that I had seen much.

The only things in my mind or memory were this golden room, with this large bed and this beautiful boy.

My whole being was pulled toward him.

Something deep within me needed him, urged me to join him on that bed and hold him close and never leave.

Still though, my survival instinct screamed at me to be careful, he could be dangerous.

His scent, however luscious and attractive, also had a hint of power in it, one that made me wary.

I decided to wait and see what would happen.

His lips moved and the wind that feathered from his mouth seemed sweet and comforting.

His voice itself, though, that was silver and honey and everything velvety smooth. I loved it.

Maybe, if I stayed, he would speak again.

But, the sound he made meant nothing to me.

He sat up and moved as if to come toward me, but I flinched away from him, not understanding and wary.

My instincts told me he could harm me, but my mind berated me for not leaping into his arms.

He froze, and hurt flashed across his face.

This stabbed me like a knife.

I did not know who this man was, or why he was hurt, but I felt that he should never be hurt. No, he should always smile.

That would be heavenly.

He murmured something else, but all I understood was “Bella.” I knew that word.

It had something to do with the past…but I could not remember.

I remembered pain, and I remembered that word, Bella, but that was it.

The boy moved again, slower this time.

He held his hands up so I could see his palms.

I knew this meant that he meant no harm. I was remembering more. I let him come all the way up to the bed, where he slowly, slowly lowered himself to sit beside me.

I stared up at his golden eyes in wonder.

He was so beautiful.

His white, white hand lifted to my cheek.

As his hand drifted across it, the sensation left behind was something like the pain from before, but it did not hurt.

It sent a thrill all the way to my toes.

He was whispering something else, but I could only pick out certain words, and understood nothing of the rest of his meaning.

I caught “Three days, waiting, excited, home, Charlie.”

None of that made sense, but for the last word flashed an image of an older man with wrinkles around his eyes.

Who was that?

Suddenly, a door I had not noticed was flung open, and a girl stepped into the room.

This startled me and I leapt to my feet, leaving the boy there on the bed.

She had the same golden eyes as the boy, but her hair was black, and it was short and spiky, pointing in many directions.

She moved like a dancer, flowing over the ground, not walking like everyone else.

As she came in, I tensed, wary again.

This man, I decided, might be friendly, but now there was another.

I did not know if I could escape if she joined the golden eyed male and attacked me.

But, I did not want to leave the man.

I longed for him as I knew I would never long for anyone.

But, there was my instinct, and I wanted to survive …

In my moment of indecision, the girl was halfway across the room, moving very rapidly.

Another male entered the room through the door the girl had left open, and that sealed my fate.

There was no way I could escape three, especially with this new male. He was huge, seeming to have muscles I did not know could exist.

One whole wall was glass, and without hesitation I burst through it, landing lightly on the soft ground below.

Amazingly, none of the glass shards seemed to scratch me as they clattered down around me.

I flashed into the tree line, quick as lighting, and hesitated, looking back, still drawn to the bronze-haired boy.

He stood on the second story where I had jumped from, his mouth ajar, eyes locked to me.

For a moment, I felt my face soften, and I took two steps back toward him, pulled as if by a magnet.

But then, the small female and the huge male joined him at the broken window, and four more people, two males and two females, spilled out of the door just below it.

I might have stuck around with two.

Three was pushing it, but I wanted to be with that boy so much. But seven?

There was no way my instincts would allow me to stay with this kind of threat.

My eyes widened as I saw that all their eyes were locked onto me. I felt fear rise up in me and I began to back away slowly.

The boy burst out, “No!” It startled me, and I turned and flashed away, through the darkness that now separated me from one person I might be able to trust.