Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size
Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme
“She took a deep breath, and then abruptly leveled a dark glance over my shoulder. I turned in time to see the man in the aisle seat looking away as if he wasn’t listening to us. He appeared to be a businessman, in a dark suit with a power tie and a laptop over his knees. While I stared at him with irritation, he opened the computer and very conspicuously put headphones on.”
- pages 427-428, New Moon
Word Count 1236
Review this Chapter
By the time reason caught up with the jubilation coursing through me, the manic smile was still plastered on my face.
“Of course you can’t kill her,” I muttered angrily to myself, banishing the half-formed murder plans floating around my head. This was an airplane, for goodness sake! Weapons here would be slim to none. I could strangle her with my headphones… no, it wouldn’t work – I no longer possessed the strength to kill the weakest child with my bare hands. If she was one of them, it would be completely impossible.
If. Was she, even, his kind? The more I stared, the less I could be sure. Her eyes…they weren’t a deep, blood-red; rather, a warm, inviting shade of butterscotch. She was small and wiry; he had been muscled and relatively tall. Vampire genetics? Could two of them look so different? The passionate, vengeful fighter in me replied: Of course they could! Have you ever seen to humans that are identical in every way? Not often.
Look at her, though, the tired old man in me, the pacifist who just wanted to rest, protested: She is talking to the girl like family! Would you talk to your food like that?
An impasse. That skin, that grace, that impeccable beauty, it wasn’t…human. Fifty years before I would have already made my plans to follow her, interrogate her, kill her along with my father’s killer, but not now. I had no proof, and deep down, I was tired of hurting the innocent. My own weakness disgusted me.
Suddenly, I reached a solution. “Carlisle!” I thought suddenly, lighting up. It wasn’t a common name. If one of them mentioned Carlisle, I would know they were connected with the other vampire! Straining my ears slightly, I listened.
“I promised I could get out before they killed me too,” the pale girl began. “It’s not something I can guarantee, not by a long shot.
The girl was loud. The vampire, I hope I hope, spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper. Another similarity.
“Who are these Volturi? What makes them so much more dangerous than Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie,” and Carlisle, I hoped quietly, Carlisle, “and you?”
I leaned closer, hoping to hear the magic name. The loud girl’s companion breathed in and…
…glared at me.
Had I really been so obvious? I didn’t want her to be suspicious of me, and something about her dark glance actually caused me fear. Similarity number two. I made sure she watched while I put on my headphones. I waited for awhile, cursing that I couldn’t hear them, then slyly moved my headphones a fraction of an inch off my ears.
“lisle’s study.” The brunette finished, quieter than before. No!! Had she said Carlisle?
I couldn’t hear my vampire hopeful anymore. Frustrated and brokenhearted, I picked up what the loud girl said while pretending to sleep.
“But if there are only five-“
Suddenly, she shouted, “There are rules?” Several heads flipped in that direction, and the quiet one was forced into speech.
“Shouldn’t somebody have mentioned this to me earlier? I mean, I wanted to be a…” vampire, please say a vampire, “to be one of you! Shouldn’t somebody have explained the rules to me?”
Argh, how frustrating! I was almost certain she was a…but I couldn’t be sure. Both girls spoke softly now, but after a few minutes the pale girl’s voice raised just a fraction, just enough for me to hear…
“Knock it off, Bella, or we’re turning around in New York and going back to Forks.” Forks? What kind of a vampire would live in a place called Forks? I’d never even heard of it!
“What?” Honestly, maybe they were vacationing in Spoons or something. Of all the things! Was fate trying to make a mockery of my quest? Go ahead and look, old man. You track down the infamous creatures of Spoons. You are a senile, superstitiou-s
“Charlie – ”. I froze, halfway through my satire. Had she said…tell me she had just said…
“ – and I don’t want any trouble from you. Do you understand that?” Maybe I had misheard…could Charlie be a pet name for…
I wrestled with the problem for minutes upon minutes, my rush of excitement fading again, the old man ache returning to nap steadily in my head. The airport played a movie, and I reluctantly slipped my headphones on, trying to fix my stare on the little screen – I had to blend in, the last thing I wanted was her to become suspicious. It was just luck they had other things on their minds. The glances I snuck at the pale girl were quick and revealed the same fact again and again. She had stopped talking. I waited with baited breath for her to resume the conversation with the loud girl, who had lapsed into an almost anxious silence, but she did nothing. At first, she glared back at me when my eyes flicked to her – how could she know when exactly I would look – but as she sunk deeper and deeper into (supposed) sleep, this grew less frequent.
Maybe I wouldn’t kill her. Maybe if I caught her, she could lead me to the-
How do you know that she’s one of them?
She looks like him-
A little like him-
He’s a beast, she’s a girl-
Not a normal girl!
Her friend is-
A blind man could see the difference-
She didn’t kill your father-
As good as! All killers are alike!
Oh, do you see a killer? Because I see a teenager-
Remember your fear. Get it, get it now, it will get you, GET IT-
He was a worthless drunk anyway-
Don’t talk about my father that way!
He’s my father too. He would’ve died eventually.
He didn’t deserve what he got. That thing killed innocents-
Your father was far from innocent.
It wanted to kill me, didn’t it?
You’re alive, aren’t you? Carlisle, Carlisle, what is-
And if it hadn’t stopped itself? My father wasn’t a monster. The stuff that happened to him, it wasn’t his fault. That monster didn’t know the gray, didn’t know the fear, didn’t know the blurry, weary monotony-
You did. And you didn’t like it much, did you?
What do you mean?
This witch hunt of yours got you out of it, didn’t it? If you weren’t so hungry for revenge, you would have died forty years ago in some pox-riddled cesspit. Admit it!
What’s it to you?
Maybe the monster did you a favor…
Maybe you’re better off without-
NO! NO HE KILLED MY FATHER YOU SCUMBAG HE KILLED MY DADDY HE KILLED MY DADDY
And if you kill an innocent, you are just as bad as him.
Admit it. You are beaten, old man. Without a name, you have no proof. Without proof, you can’t touch her.
But out of reach. Can’t do it. Sorry.
Fading into a haze of longing and pain...