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Muddling Memory

Summary:
It's been 10 years since Bella changed and all she can remember is the pain, but someone is lurking in the shadows... Waiting for her memory to return.
I'd really love some reviews and ratings. I know it's my first one ever so I don't expect a lot, but feedback would really help me improve :) I can take it... Whatever you throw at me! ... I think ;)


Notes:


1. Find me so I can find myself

Rating 5/5   Word Count 941   Review this Chapter

Please note these characters do not belong to me. The were created by Stephenie Meyer (genius) and the story below is me going along with my (poor) imagination and making up a little something silly!

[From the Point of View of Bella]


I still don’t remember anything from before I was changed. I remember fragments of the time when the venom was pulsing through my veins. The walls around me were moving inwards and I felt like I couldn’t breath, I was slowly suffocating but my heart, instead of speeding up, was slowing down. My blood had become thick; reluctant to move around my body. I had to urge it on with every scream that stumbled out of my mouth. Then blackness.

I remember only that, repeated about a hundred times in a multitude of ways. The constants were the screaming, the crying, the slow and heavy blood but more than anything a voice. Throughout everything there was a voice in my head, a velvet slur that became fainter as the venom circulated. I knew it was only in my head for I could slowly sense every person in the room, where they stood and when they moved.

When the pain eased I was cold but comfortable. I was hard but relaxed. I could hear everything but was not deafened. The mice moving in the attic calmed me as I remembered to breathe and the swaying of the trees outside distracted me from the strangers that surrounded me. The voice in my head was now toneless, “Bella, my love. I love you. Wait for me. I will find you.” But that is all, nothing else.

“Bella? … Bella!” Mr. Appleby stood at the front of the class with a frown on his face. He sighed and continued, “Usually you’re the first to answer my questions, today you’re gone. We’re in Biology, sorry to take you from your happy place. Now, blood types. What is the rarest?”

Blood, again. We’d been on the subject for weeks. At first I thought I wouldn’t be able to resist my classmates as they pricked their fingers and tested: I could smell their scent more than ever and feel their pulsing hearts. But I was strong, stronger than I’d first expected. Human blood never bothered me like it did my coven, I was never drawn the same way they were. At times I felt faint when I saw it, I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I control myself more than they do: when I see blood I must unconsciously lock up and the concentration must take away some of my strength, but that’s just a guess. I answered the question and resumed my journey down memory lane.

I wanted more than anything to hear that voice again, that velvet. I knew how the voice had pleased me, how my entire body had become attune to the sound and texture, to the way his mouth had moved, to the smell of his breath that lingered in the air. But who was he and why couldn’t I see his face? Had I loved him too, or was this just a dream? But in ten years of roaming this earth without a heartbeat, his words were still in my head. Daydreams came and went, but he remained. Why?

The bell ran and my classmates cheered. It was finally holiday time and they would all be leaving to go somewhere sunny and warm. I liked the sun but only because of the way it made me feel. I would walk into the rays of light that shone through the trees in the forest and feel my body glitter, I could see light reflect off me in the same way it would off a diamond. I felt precious and untouchable, as though if someone came and reached out I would break because they weren’t good enough. I’d become vain when I noticed that heads turned in my direction, when boys moved their bodies to face me and their eyes looked at everything except my face. It was as though they knew that I could see them, but as long as they didn’t get caught starring, it was fine. I was repulsed and drawn at the same time: I was wanted in a way I would never let a man want me because it would be too dangerous for him. At the same time I felt taken as though I already belonged to the man with the toneless velvet voice even though I felt no strong emotion for him. Do something with anyone else would be cheating on the memory of I man I no longer had, a man who might still be searching…

I was silly. I couldn’t remember him, whoever he was. - He may not even exist. I realised I was still sat at my desk when a wolf howled from inside the forest and stirred my emotions once again, how strange. There was a smell that disgusted me but attracted me at the same time. I couldn’t explore to find it, I was expected at home. My coven was still anxious about my attending school without one of them, they were always reluctant to leave me alone. It was as if they thought I might slip and bite someone but they should know there wasn’t any danger of that. I was strong. Maybe it was something else but I wasn’t all too bothered. As long as they let me get out of the house, spend time on my own, I was happy. So I moved towards my shiny silver Volvo and sped home as fast as the engine would allow. I was already late.