Title: Like A Lifeline.
Claim: Bella Swan.
Word Count: 577.
Summary: It's been two months since the beginning of New Moon, and Bella finally decides she can't take it anymore.
Note: It hasn't been beta'd, so please forgive any weirdness. Also -- I'm totally rusty on fanfiction; we're talking two and a half years or so since the last piece I wrote. Could be spoilerish for those who have't read New Moon. Rated for mentions of some emo practices, ohnoez!
Bella silently marveled at how sleek they were, neat; pristine. But no matter how wonderfully lovely they appeared, her reflection would always be distorted on the polished and modest silver exterior. It was as though something so simple could see through her, too. …See what he had made her become.
She didn’t think as she picked them up -- she just knew that she had to hold them, warm them. And as her fingers brushed the blades, a pulse somewhere deep in her chest quickened. Oh, how great the cold felt… It reminded her so much of --
No! The scissors shot out of her fist and onto the linoleum, as though of their own accord. Each clink made her wince involuntarily, and the harsh skidding echoed ominously. Bella stood several feet away, her body trembling and wracking with each infamous sob. How did they – what was that – ?! She moaned with a choked sigh. It felt so good!
Urgently, she shook her head, lips quavering. No, I am not going to think about that. She felt her eyes harden. Her mind was made up. Swiftly, she ducked and clasped the cool metal as calmly as possible. That’s not what this is about.
And there she perched, unsteady on her knees in the center of the kitchen, lights glaring brightly down, cabinets content and cheery where they hung and sat. Outside of the small window it was a typical Forks day – raining profusely, cloud cover masking what hope the sun had left. Bella stared at the thick lather of grey and clutched the scissors to her chest like a lifeline. And in some ways, they were.
Edw – desperately, she forced out a loud and whooping cough, drowning out her own thought of his name. He was comparable to a single pair of scissors. Good, but possibly evil. Helpful, but destructive. Uniquely beautiful, but absolutely deadly. And he had been the very one to cut her off from civilization when he’d left; simply snipped the thread and plunged her into the dark hole of oblivion and denial. That’s all it took, and her sanity vanished.
However, their purpose now was to help, and to destruct. All she wanted was for the pain to disappear.
“All I want is my life back.”
The words were quiet, barely whispered. It has to be done. Determined, Bella furrowed her eyebrows and slowly brought the glimmering blades to rest at her left wrist. She bit her bottom lip. I have to do this. I have to.
But she couldn’t. Tears stung her eyes, and she flung the scissors into the sink, sinking dejectedly onto the stiff linoleum floor. What has this come to? What’s happened to me?
“Edward!” she wailed, holding back gasps of defeat. She had to say it, had to get it out…! No one was home to hear her, and even so, Charlie wouldn’t care. So many times she’d yelled out his name in her sleep, hoping that maybe the nightmares would stop, and she would wake to find that this had never happened…
“Edward, Edward, Edward…!” Each time she spoke his name, her tone grew quieter and quieter, and she began rocking back and forth, wrapping her arms around her knees for support. Why did he do this to her? Why did he leave?
“Edward, please….” Bella’s voice was barely audible now, fading instantly into the house and out the window with the dying sunset.
“I love you.”