Soothing Cold
Chapter 1
BPOV
I'm near panic as the plane's wheels leave the runway, unshed tears burning behind my eyes.
There are people everywhere around me: a business woman typing on a laptop to my left, a kid in the seat in front of me kicking the seat in front of him, and a man directly behind that has gotten up three times already to retrieve things from the compartment above his head.
All these people and men moving around, crammed into this little plane with me, sends my mind spiraling and heart thrumming quicker than it should. But I sit there with my hands in my lap, clenched with white knuckles and the ends of my long sleeves soaking up the sweat gathering in my palms.
It's my own fault that I am here now, being sent to Forks to live with my father. Part of me is relieved to be moving to this tiny town with fewer people than there was in enormous Phoenix, to be away from Him and his burning touch.
I remember my mom's tear filled eyes as she sent me through the terminal, and Phil's disappointed gaze following me until the other people filing in, close around me.
Anxiety is also there, in the form of a lump in the back of my throat and stiff muscles.
By the time the plane touches down in Seattle, my muscles are all knotted and locked, and I've finally calmed myself down enough to breathe normally. Ish.
I force myself to stand along with everyone else and follow the slow moving line with my single suitcase held close to my body to act as another barrier against all the people shuffling about.
I spot Charlie, my dad, easily enough standing next to his police cruiser and I stumble forward with my head bowed in shame.
He steps forward looking like he's going to hug me before thinking better of it and just taking my bag. I'm glad, because if he had tried to put is arms around me, I'm certain I would have jerked away in a mini freak out.
"Hey Bells," is all he says before opening the door for me to climb in in silence.
After a long while of just driving, he glances over at me.
"I told the school you were coming; you start tomorrow."
I nod in acknowledgment.
"I got you something as a sort of welcome present. You just got your license, right?" He asks hopefully.
"Dad, you didn't have to," I immediately start to object. He gave me presents a lot, but they were never for free. He always wanted something in return, no matter how desperately I tried to give it back or tell him I didn't want it.
Charlie blushes.
"I wanted to. I got it pretty cheap and you'll be needing something to get to school..."
We pull up into a driveway with an old rusted red truck.
"Thanks dad," I whisper before stepping out of the car into the slight drizzle that had started on the drive over.
I follow Charlie into the house and he leads me to the familiar room I used to use whenever I visited as a child.
He leaves me there with my suitcase and it's only then that my locked muscles relax fully, slightly sore from flexing for so long.
I fall into the purple covers as the silent tears start to fall, staying there until I fall asleep after the third time that Charlie checks to make sure I hadn't tried to kill myself again.
...
The loud noise of my truck cuts off, the sudden silence making me shudder, and I step out of the nearly deserted parking lot of the school.
I had purposely arrived early to avoid the stares that we're sure to come the moment the unfamiliar vehicle entered the parking lot.
The main office is easy to find and I'm soon slipping stiffly through the few kids that had started to arrive.
With my hood flipped up, no one really notices me until third period when an arm is thrown over my shoulder and a smiling blond head of hair appears right beside me.
"Hey, your Isa-" I give a small shriek, flinching so hard that I jerk away, tripping over a book bag and then a chair.
The boy raises his hands with wide eyes.
"Whoa, sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Here, let me help."
I cringe at his reaching hands and scramble to my feet on my own to put some space between us.
"I-I'm fine," I stutter. "I don't need your help."
"Sorry," he repeats, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.
Everyone in the class by now is staring. So much for staying invisible.
The teacher quickly calls the class to order and I find a seat, trembling slightly, as I tug my sleeves lower to bunch in my palm.
After the bell rings, the same boy approaches with a sheepish smile.
"Hey, sorry again about scaring you. I'm Mike," he introduces, extending his hand in a normal greeting.
I nod, keeping my hands stubbornly at my sides.
His smile drops slightly along with his hand.
"Anyway, since lunch is next, would you like to join me and my friends at our table?"
"No thank you," I say stiffly, shouldering my bag and skirting around him.
When I walk into the lunchroom with my hood up, everyone turns to stare.
My steps falter, making me stumble slightly, and I walk faster trying to shrink into myself.
I find an empty table to sit at with my apple and water bottle, though both go untouched as I do anything to avoid the staring.
Slut, a voice says in my head, making me cringe. I should be used to it by now; it always comes when I'm most worked up.
It's your own fault you're here; you shouldn't have gotten caught.
It's not my fault, how was I supposed to know that my mom's art class got canceled and she would find me in that bathroom floor?
Try again, the voice says. But try something that you can't heal from.
The backs of my eyes burn but I've long since grown used to pushing the tears away when people are around.
Charlie would be crushed if I actually succeeded.
Charlie; he works for the police. He has a gun; that could work. No one, not even the best doctor could bring me back from that...
Slut.
I cringe again at the familiar voice.
You let me do this to you; this is your fault for letting this happen. You're a slut. A whore. You get off on this too, don't you?
I don't, I really don't; it hurts! Please stop.
I fold my arms against me, trying to hold in my sickness and heartache.
Slut, you let me do this. What would everyone think of you if they knew what you let me do to you?
I don't want this! Why won't you stop? Why won't you go away...? Why did I stop fighting? I'm so tired...
The gun, the gun will work. I know where he puts it every night, I used to watch him as a child as he took the clips out and hung it up.
But he stopped taking the clips out when I grew up. They'll be in there now.
My head snaps up as the chair across from me is pulled out.
RPOV
The new girl's head whips up at a breakneck speed as I pull out the chair across from her, eyes widening to saucers.
They are immediately drawn to Emmett as he pulls out the chair next to mine, and her little heart picks up speed, working itself frantically.
The sent of fear is potent as she stares at my best friend, and my concern grows.
Edward had peeked into her mind at the beginning of lunch, and couldn't seem to get out after that, relaying to us everything he heard or the flashes of images that he saw. The thoughts were horrible and suggestive in a way that made my heart immediately go out to this random human girl.
Isabella is what everyone knows her as. Apparently, she had quit the freak out when stupid Mike Newman casually threw his arm aground her in greating.
The poor child, she's only a sophomore.
"Hey," I say quietly, sitting down in the seat while sending Emmett a warning look.
I wanted to come over here by myself, but Emmett had insisted on coming along.
I can see her struggle to swallow. She also seems to have a hard time dragging her eyes over to me, flicking them back to my idiotic best friend, and then down to the table before repeating the cycle.
My sharp eyes are drawn to the ends of her sleeve bunched in her hand, where she moves them to her lap.
"Hi," she says softly, sitting back and effectively putting more space between us. I doubt her reluctance has anything to do with her instincts telling her that I'm dangerous.
"I'm Rosalie," I introduce, offering my hand.
This is something I never do to a human, I never willingly get close, but she might be like me and maybe I could help her.
She might take my hand, even though she didn't take Mike's, because I'm not a male. She seems more stressed around them, considering the constant glances she sends the large boy beside me.
She does take my hand, hesitantly. She doesn't jerk away from the cold like I expect, but seems to relax slightly.
"Bella," she introduces.
So she likes to go by a nickname.
"This is my brother, Emmett," I gesture beside me, where said boy grins reassuringly at her.
She nods at him, not taking his offered hand.
Emmett lets it drop, not offended in the slightest.
The other students' shocked and jealous whispers about two of the Cullens talking to the new girl reach my sensitive ears, but they're easy to ignore.
"So how are you liking Forks so far?" I ask, forcing myself to make small talk with this girl.
When chief Swan gets home, I'll be sneaking in to remove the bullet clips. I've never gotten so involved with a human before, but hearing the suggestive thoughts that she thinks...well I can't just sit back. Carlisle didn't do that for me, and I won't do it for anyone else.
I may not know for absolutely certain that this is what's going on, but I do know that she was just thinking about killing herself later tonight.
"It's better than Phoenix," she grimaces and I hear Edward give a soft gasp from our table. I have to refrain from turning to face him and demanding what he saw.
"That's good I guess," I mumble. "Do you mind if I sit here tomorrow?" I ask as the bell rings.
If she says no, I'll just do it anyway.
She glances at Emmett, hesitating. "Sure," she finally says, standing up with her uneaten apple and unopened bottle.
She tosses them both into the trash on her way out and I return to my concerned siblings as Edward starts to describe what he saw in Bella's thoughts.
A/N: Okay, so I've had this written for a while but it's no where near completion. I don't know when or how often i will be updating, I just wanted to put this out there. I'm going to do that with a few of my stories, even ones that I will probably not finish. Thanks for reading and please review!
~Silver~