I love you, my Angel
The night Edward 'died' but he wasn't alone. There was someone beside him, begging him to stay the whole time, pleading with him not to leave her in the darkness of her world. AU.
Sooo....This can be a one shot....or it can't be a one shot....u choose.... I got the idea from listening to The River Flows In You and looking at an old fashoned picture hanging on my wall of a flower surounded building with lots of windows and a horse buggy outside....but I'm not really sure how that ended up as this....hmmmm...
10. Chapter 10
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1709 Review this Chapter
Jasper and Alice were—they just clicked. Jasper now watched her with a complete awe struck look, half in wonderment, and half in adoration. I think he knew that she was here forever, permanently.
“Oh, yes, there are six of us in all—Esme, Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, and I,” Alice informed Jasper, the three of us sitting in the small den of Jasper’s.
My head jerked up involuntarily at Edward’s name. Yes, it hurt plenty, but I was surprised at how little that plenty was; it should’ve locked down my whole being at merely hearing his name, but it didn’t. Was I not wounded so deeply at hearing his name because I knew in days—only days!—I would leave this world behind and find Edward on the other side—whatever side that was? I thought so.
His last name was not Mason, though. It was easy to not let myself think that the Edward Alice spoke of was my Edward. My Edward was quite simply gone.
Jasper was so completely wrapped around Alice’s delicate finger that he didn’t even notice my flair of pain, or how fast I quenched the pain with thoughts of Edward back with me—or rather me joining Edward.
“Would it, Bella?” I barely had time to pull my thoughts away from Edward to answer Alice’s questioning gaze.
“Sorry, what were you saying, Alice?” I asked politely, trying to remember what they were talking about.
Jasper glanced between us but Alice answered, “Would you guys mind coming over after school—you could meet the family and all. I’m sure you’d enjoy it so much. Carlisle would love meeting you finally—I’ve babbled so much about meeting you two,”
I gave the best smile I could managed, “Yes, of course,”
Delight rippled across her face at my compliance and Jasper grinned along with her—his adorations for her grew by the second, I could see.
For several hours more Jasper, Alice and I talked, discussed and occasionally I would find myself laughing along with them over some stilly thing Emmett—her big brother—had done, or how Rosalie would fly off the wall at him after a crude joke.
Alice had already permanently cared her spaced in our coven, and had made several other places for the remaining parts of her family.
Jasper was home. Finally.
I wished him to happy in the new world I would never experience.
I had never seen Edward cry before his father’s funeral. We both had, as we’d watched his father buried in the cemetery a couple streets down. I’d loved the man as a second father; he’d been very kind, gently joking at all times. I’d been there, the same day he’d come down with it.
I’d hated to leave Edward at that time and didn’t, except at night to wash and talk to mother and father.
I gathered up food; the family—the whole household—was disoriented and out of order, and needed help. Help I would give them in whatever little ways I could. And they needed food. I gathered up the spices and noodles for pasta and, wrapped up
“Mother, I’m headed down the street, now,” I informed her, pulling my shawl over me—winter was not over yet; the roads were full of thick slush.
Mother nodded, trying to smile but failing, and said, “Wrap warm, love,” She returned to her knitting.
I shoved my feet into my winter boots and stepped out the door. Luckily it wasn’t snowing but there were still thick clouds hanging across the sky. And it was unusually warm today, like maybe it would rain instead of snow. I hoped it did.
The streets were empty. No one went out anymore, really. Hollow looking people would hobble down roads hurriedly and never meet other’s gaze. The Influenza had taken someone in almost every family on the block except, thankfully, Edward’s, mine, and an old couple down the road who were had their grandchildren living with them.
Even Sebastian, I’d heard, had perished from the disease. I was sad when I’d heard the news, instead of happy, as mother seemed to think I would be. Because I thought of the way his mother had wept and his little sister had bawled at his funeral. I’d heard they’d been close and he’d often brought her gifts to play with. So there had been a soft side to him after all.
I’d grown in the last couple months, maturity wise. Anyone who had survived this long, through both bouts of the disease, was old. I had seen Mrs. Hilt’s new babe die days after I had tended it—the little girl had been so cute with thick blond curls and an adorable smile. Now she rotted in the ground.
Edward had held me that afternoon while I’d cried. I’d cried for the child and her mourning mother, but I’d cried even harder for the fact that two days beforehand the child had been running around, full of life. Was Edward next? Would he slip through my fingers? Or Betty, my niece who visited at least once a week? Mother? Father? Would we all be gone in days?
Carefully hoisting the box of food under my arm, I knocked.
After a few seconds and no one answered, I opened up myself. It wasn’t worried about the lack of attention the door received—in the last couple days I had ended up coming in on my own; the house was in enough chaos—but I was instantly worried when I entered and there was no sound.
A smashed urn that had once sat on a small cabinet sprawled across the wood floor. A mirror hung crooked over the cabinet.
“Edward!” I called, dropping the box, not hearing the jar of sauce shatter inside it.
My heart started double time and my throat suddenly hurt. A small cry broke from my lips. It came out choked and sounding agonized.
I hardly heart it—my ears suddenly felt plugged, except my breathing; it was almost painfully loud as I tore through the house. I couldn’t get my legs to move fast enough—they felt stiff.
His room, the living room, dining room, and kitchen: all empty.
I didn’t realize I’d been screaming his name the whole time until my ears starting hurting and my throat was raw.
Nothing! It was all empty! He was gone, and I’d never be able to see him again, never look into his smoldering green eyes, and listen to his laughter.
The pain—so intense!—made my knees buckle with the weight of it; I grasped the stair railing, my dress wet and tangled around me. My knuckles were white and stung, but I ignored it.
I still rasping Edward’s name when I realized I hadn’t checked the once place he could be—the river, the one that ran through his land. It was only a few feet away from where the backyard ended.
Stumbling to my feet, I shoved the pain away viciously, and ran through the house and flew out the backdoor, not bothering to close the door.
Edward, Edward, Edward.
I trudged through the snowy grounds, wiping tears away as quickly as they pooled. Loud sobs were still ripping out of my chest in horribly painful lurches. My arms flailed around me, trying to keep my balance while running through the thick slush.
Once in the woods, I ran a little steadier; grasping anything I could to propel me faster.
I didn’t notice the way the branches snagged my hair, or the snow that was soaking my socks, or the cuts the thorns I grabbed gave me. Because it was all nothing compared to the agony that was so close to falling on top of me. Nothing.
I made to the river, barely stopping in time to not barrel into the icy waters churning under me. I gasped a branch and looked around for Our Tree.
The Tree was actually two. One was dead, sprawled out at the base of a large walnut tree’ huge branches and little branches made it great to climb.
Edward and I had spent countless hours at its roots, talking, laughing.
And there, flapping in the wind, was a note. A familiar scrawl was visible.
My breath caught in my throat, and I lunged for it in one quick movement, ripping it loose from in between the wood and a small, silver needle.
I sniffled, fingers trembling as I read.
I am terribly sorry I couldn’t say this in person; our timing was most unfortunate.
Mother is sick. I can almost see her heartbeats running to their end, and I think she can see it, too, now. She’s terrified of my going to the hospital with her, but she’s too weak to stop me—that scares me.
Isabella, I can feel this—my mother is slipping through my fingers, just like my father has.
There are no words efficient for me to say how much I wish I could be holding you as I write this, to feel you safe in my arms, but I fear if I leave Mother for even a second she would leave to an infirmary without me.
Please, stay indoors; don’t go out. Head home as soon as you finish this.
Dearest, don’t worry about me. I will be home as soon as Mother is stable. I promise to return.
I love you.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been crying—sobbing uncontrollably—until the page was splattered.
I slowly sank to my knees, my heart being cut with a serrated knife.
“He’s gone,” I finally muttered distantly. I was no longer connected with my body.
My tears suddenly stopped. My breathing evened out. My heartbeat calmed. My face was blank.
He was gone. My mind didn’t fumble with the idea, instead smashing down on my being with one quick blow.
I shut down. Time spun by unnoticed. My fingers held the paper tightly, but my eyes could focus on it or anything else, wandering around in chaotic circles.
He was coming back, some small part of me insisted. It didn’t really work; the rest of me—my heart—knew Edward was never to return to the place under the tree where I sat, that I would never watch him run, ride his horse that he loved so much, or hold me in his arms.
I slumped to the forest floor, my hair everywhere, and blacked out.
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