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Leaving Home

Summary:
Set before Twilight. Bella's final thoughts before leaving her home in Arizona to move to Forks. Oneshot.


Notes:
Disclaimer: Bella Swan belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Not me. I own books about Bella Swan, maybe, but not Bella herself.


1. Leaving home

Rating 0/5   Word Count 593   Review this Chapter

Bella walked through the hallways of her house one last time, her heart breaking a little more with each step.

She walked through the dining room where so many holidays had been celebrated, the kitchen where so many meals had been shared.

Room after room full of the love her mother had put into it, decorating and redecorating the rooms that had been empty when she moved in, but were now beautiful. Who could tell that the elegantly floral bathroom with counters that shined had once had a parade of goose border adorning the walls?

The hallway that had started out plain, boring until her mother took over. How much effort she had put onto those walls, stamping out a design like a simplified fleur-de-leis, using only the cut-up spongy part of dozens of curlers!

She stepped for the last time into her room, and felt like she was being torn in two. She stared longingly at the walls, those calm blue walls, the walls that had embraced her as she slept every night, for as long as she could remember. What would she give to have them again, to stay forever?

But that wasn’t an option anymore. She did not belong in the house anymore. The days of Bella and Renee had come to an end. There was no room for her in her mother’s new world.

The room displayed no sign of her life anymore, no more posters or pictures or dirty socks lying everywhere. The walls she had always cluttered were bare and clean, empty.

They were not her walls.

She had no walls anymore.

Forks would be exciting, she tried to tell herself. New life, new home, new walls.

Deep down, though, she knew that it would not be that easy. Who knew how long it would be before she felt home again? Before she would come to think of Charlie’s house as her own?

She had no memories there. Fishing trips, maybe, or fishy meals. No true memories.

No memories like when she got her first stitches, the first of many, after hitting her head on the marble table in the family room. Back in those days she thought she was going to be a gymnast. Right.

No memories like the times she sat in the front room watching lightning dance across the Arizona sky.

No memories like the time she spent five hours sitting in the tree outside her bedroom window, until long after the sun had gone down. An attempt at setting a world record, failed after she discovered the actual record was 52 years.

Thousands of memories flashed through her mind in those final moments, as she ran her fingers lightly down her cool blue walls one last time. She looked around her, committing to memory every last detail of a room that would never be hers again.

She allowed herself 30 more seconds, just enough time to let a single tear run down her cheek before she picked up the last of her bags and walked out.

Back through the hallway, back through the kitchen.

She lingered in the doorway, knowing that an era of her life was ending, not knowing how long it would be before she embraced the new one she was facing. Who knew what waited for her, outside the world she had called her own for as long as she remembered?

Clutching the doorknob tightly, she took a deep breath and braced herself for whatever the future held for her.

For the last time, she closed the door and walked away.