"Walking The Ghost"

-Inspired by the song of the same name by the band James-

Warning: Angst, and not for people who really like Bella. You've been warned.

"There's a knocking at my window
Not one for yes but two for no
Some spirit is unsatisfied
From watching her world spin out of control"

One-fifteen-p.m. She taps the pencil, or if she's trying to really be appropriate, lapiz, on the faux-wood desktop. The pads of her fingers connect, and it feels a little oily to the touch, from what cause she knows not. Either way, the newfound knowledge makes her keep all bared skin away from the grimy surface. That being said, she is wearing long sleeves, to her constant chagrin.

It's not like her. If she were at home, her arms wouldn't be covered up at all, but in school, in Spanish class, as she is now, it's a necessity. Keep the secret, don't scare the humans, don't give into your urges. Three of Carlisle's golden rules for them when they are in school, keeping up the family's newest pretense. Her husband really could use a refresher when it came to rule number three. Oh no, it wasn't the blood so much as it was lust.

You see, the girl had other newfound knowledge to contend with. It was the kind that ripped apart one's soul, but also one that she covered up with a flimsy band-aid just so he never knew he hurt her. Like he used to be all for her, she continues on her end, being all for him. It's love, however onesided. And yes, she wishes she could cry --- maybe it'd stir some of his pity, he has to still have some to spare for her --- but instead she bleeds on the inside. It's still an outlet, however useless.

Sometimes knowledge isn't really golden at all.

One-twenty. She is trying to concentrate, but it's futile. Soon her attempts are drowned out by a voice in her head, asking her what on the surface would seem a simple question.

What is she doing?

It's just... the girl really doesn't want to go there. Not now, not today. Then again, lately she never does want to go there, to rip the band-aid off, and she never understands why her brother would either. He is astute, but masochistic, which is why she supposes he always asks her. She only wished she wasn't the one he came to.

This happens every day, sometimes several times each day. Almost like clockwork. He asks, she drifts off into the abyss, only to return with the hard answers. At least's there's no doubt involved, only a yearning. That it could go back to the way it was, she and her brother shared that desire. They weren't really the type to just give up anyway.

So like always, she takes a look to see.

In another class, in a different hallway, two people sit in the back row, aloof from the rest of the class. Half of their eyes are affixed to the chalkboard and to their notes in turn, the other half focusing on other people's notes, or better yet, sizing up who they could talk into getting a copy of the notes from. The two people in back don't follow this particular high-school pattern however, theirs is one of focusing on each other, flirting and being very secretive about it. That's half the fun, is it not?

The boy has his hand on the girl's jeans-clad leg, sometimes gently squeezing at her knee, or other times trailing one long, bony finger up her thigh, simultaneously activating all the erogenous zones on her lower body, for which he earns a glimpse of her biting pseudo-modestly down on her rosy pink bottom lip. It's the one that's fuller than the top lip, and so his interest is even more piqued. He looks at her with a mélange of lust and unbearably sweet adoration, which she returns in her own way, laying a small, pale hand on his leg, ready to show him just how he's made her feel. Payback isn't always a bitch, that's what he learns.

He learns it quickly, through featherlight touches, a loosened zipper, and a moan that only the very best ears could've picked up on.

Meanwhile, the viewer visibly cringes at the knowledge of how much a person can change so quickly, especially one she thought she knew better than anyone. For her there's disappointment, both in the couple of young lovers, and with herself for facilitating such things. Mostly though, she hates herself. She just lets it go on everyday, never uttering a word about it, never letting on that she knows.

That she feels... irrevocably heartbroken.

Lost at sea with nothing to hold onto.

No one to hold onto.

She's drowning.

Her brother understands what the answer to his question must be.

Two-o'-clock. The school bell rings, and Alice walks outside, hoping to rid herself of the negative thoughts littering her mind. Maybe she and Edward will hang around outside today when they get home, and wallow together. It's a distinct possibility, if he doesn't want to go it alone. She could really use some moral support. Tonight's going to be an important night.

"At night she goes walking around her old home
Objecting to how it's all changed
She preferred her arrangements to the ones which we have made
Walking the ghost"

He takes up her invitation, and they journey out to the woods, finding a peaceful makeshift haven amongst a verdant field of ferns, completely overshadowed by the evergreen trees all around. There is no sun, no warmth, no other colour but green all around, and it is oddly calming. For once they can feel like they aren't trying to hold themselves together as if they'll burst into a million pieces of themselves if they don't. They can let loose... sort of.

There are no words, they just sit there, placidly recalling the better days, before all this trouble started. How it felt to be loved, or in his case, how it felt to be wrapped up in a lie packaged and advertised as love. At least Alice can say she was never lied to. Not even now, for he hasn't lied, just hasn't cared to mention it. Some will classify that as lie by omission, but she wouldn't go that far.

She doesn't have the wish to call him a liar.

Because he's not that.

Tonight's going to be an important night, for both of them. But as that time grows ever closer, the anxiety takes root deep within them, and they start to second guess themselves. Maybe it was supposed to end up like this, maybe they were supposed to end up with...?

Gold eyes meet another curious pair, and it's an unspoken thing. Is misery really their lot? Can't they be happy like everyone else? Would it hurt to try?

Do you want to try?

I think I want to try.

Do you want to try?

I guess I'll try.

It's okay if we just try....

She bites her lip, and unlike the other girl, her action is completely modest. She's unsure of herself, this all feels so foreign, but she is definitely thinking about it. She never thought about him like that before... thoughts are racing through her head and nothing seems to stick. She supposes he's handsome, and a very genteel individual, but is there something more there? Is there a soul-stimulating spark, like the one she had experienced long ago, on a rainy day when she thought she'd met her soulmate?

After the slight pause, she nods, and they both sit up, facing the other. At first it feels mechanical, the way he pulls her closer, ghosting a hand down her cheek. Then it seems to have potential, eyes watching for signs of any outward reluctance. When he tries to scan her mind, he finds it blank and there's a twinge of pain for the other one whom he could never read. Sometimes, more than ever now, he wished he could've back then. Then he would have never made his grand mistake.

She was so fickle and he... he was much too devoted. He had really gotten himself into an insuperable mess this time.

Their lips meet, only the lightest touch at first, both with eyes open and wide, as if shocked at finding themselves kissing when that's what they'd set out to do. Then he goes in for another, shutting his eyes, and after a few seconds of moving her lips with his, she shuts her eyes too.

It wasn't horrible, they both thought afterwards. Comforting in a way, but not... quite right either. However, the motion had soothed them, and the course of the night was set in stone.

It was going to be a very important night for the both of them.

"There's baggage on my shoulders
Making me stoop bending my frame
My neck is crooked lopsided
I will never be tall again
At night she goes walking around her old home
You can feel so much sadness wrapped up in her bones
I can feel so much sadness wrapped up in her bones
Walking the ghost"

Alice is finally finished packing well after dark, and there is one piece of luggage that shall remain here. It's a trunk containing all the presents, all the cards, even some of the flowers she'd dried to save as keepsakes --- all the physical remnants of her marriage because he had given her those things over the years. Finished. The marriage is well and over, there's no use denying it, so why would she want to keep his gifts? Simple: she wouldn't.

Surprises are in store though, because apparently, her husband, ex she reminds herself, has taken it upon himself to pry himself from his woman and come up to the bedroom they never share any more. What does he want to say? Alice isn't sure, but surely it can't be anything useful.

--

Jasper is looking for his wife, because it recently occurred to him that he hasn't hardly seen her outside of school, but even then, they're enrolled in different grades. He and Bella are supposedly seniors, Alice and Edward are in junior year, and Rosalie and Emmett are having yet another honeymoon, so the town's never even heard of them. He has a mind to see her, but he's not sure what he'd do, so he decides just go upstairs and see what happens.

He finds her bent over a beautiful antique chest, bent like a wilted flower and looking just as sad as one. The trunk is one he's seen before, he knows what its contents are, and what it means to her specifically. Her sadness while rifling through the various things inside lets him know that she must know. That's she's found out. He wonders why she hadn't said anything before now, because surely --- and he's really only realizing this now --- she must've seen them together. He feels the slightest twinge of guilt for it.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't answer his apology, and he also realizes that he didn't expect her to. How long has it been since they've spoken about... anything at all? Months? He can't even recall taking the second or so to say hello, or good morning. So realistically, she shouldn't speak to him either.

And yet, it kind of bothers him that she doesn't.

--

"I'm returning these to you," Alice informs him, ignoring his apology as if she hadn't even heard it. She was trying to go out with some dignity, and accepting his apology now... no, that wouldn't work at all. He was still entranced with her sister-in-law, her ex-best-friend.

Ha, seems I've a lot of exes lately... she thinks miserably to herself.

"But I gave them to you," he replies, looking quizzically down at her from where he's standing. "They're yours, Ali, not mine."

"I don't want them anymore because you gave them to me," she says simply, turning her face away from his reaction. She knows it's a harsh thing to say, and she can feel a little of his hurt seep into her own emotional core, but she ignores it mainly. It doesn't even cover one percent of how much hurt he has inflicted on her, so she shouldn't feel pity, right?

"In fact, if you want, give them to her, see if I care..." she trails off, feeling hysteria creep upon her. It's her own, and she feels the flood gates of things she's been holding back burst open, and things just come gushing from her mouth before she can stop herself.

"You... I loved you so much. I would never, and I mean NEVER do that to you, Jasper! How long has it been? Since they got back from honeymoon? More? Actually, know what? It doesn't matter. Every second you spent with her is just as horrible as anything else. And I haven't even mentioned it till now, but it's been way too long. I am actually degrading myself by staying and staying quiet. I saw you with her so many times, and you... you looked at her like you loved her, and said it... and my god I just... you used to love me like that! I gave myself all to you, and you... with her of all people... if you're not going to care about me, then at least have a heart for your brother! He loved her, even if she is a stupid, conniving..." Alice took a deep, heated breath, then continued on, "husband-stealer, and now you have done this to both of us. Better yet, you flaunt it, in school, and at home!"

She flinched as if recalling these atrocities, and he couldn't help but shy away at the tenor of her words.

"Are you proud of what you've done? Was it worth it... hmm? Was she eons better than I was? Is that why you've abandoned me for her, is she better, more compliant... more attractive to you? I know I'm small, but you never seemed to mind before," she said, no longer shouting, but her calm atmosphere unnerved him because it was like walking on thawing ice. Hit one of the pressure points, everything cracks, and you find yourself drowing in seconds. It was dead frightening.

"Oh, don't stand outside the door, come in if you're going to eavesdrop," Alice spat venomously, and he turned to see Bella walk in, clearly unabashed, unruffled. Merely curious about the argument, he supposed. And for some reason, Bella's reaction didn't ring true in his ears. Something about it was off.

"In fact... here! Wear my dress, I'm sure you two will have a lovely wedding in time," she added, throwing up a bunched-up bridal gown to the brunette, who caught it deftly, and held onto it, giving a strange look towards the woman who'd thrown it. It was utterly indecipherable.

"Just remember that you're in it for better or for worse, and that vows do really mean something. I can see that neither of you took it very seriously the first time, so maybe with each other you'll be better about it. Maybe you being married to me and Edward was just a test run. Maybe this," she pointed between Bella and Jasper, "is the right thing. You two seem to be perfectly fine with it, so you couldn't possibly be doing anything wrong, could you?"

"However, don't expect us to come to the marriage ceremony. He and I are leaving, and it's very possible you will never see us again. We may come back to see our family, but you two? No. I'm sure you understand."

The silence in the room at that point was truly astounding.

"I'm sensitive to unkindness
Stab in the back burn in the ribs
I need your fingers to straighten my flesh
I hope your fingers are kind
Walking the ghost
Walking the ghost
Walking the ghost"

-So, thoughts? Hate it? Love it? With the proper encouragement, I'll write a sequel one-shot to this, as well as a prequel showing the start of the affair. What could that proper encouragement be? Why, reviews will most certainly do the trick, especially if they say more than "Great, loved it, update soon!" -nods-

-You review, I'll write.

-Have we got a deal?