Jacob and Bella Story

Bella's P.O.V. My heart has shattered in the four months since Edward's departure. Now a canvas of unsightly acne, my chest bears the marks of my sorrow. I've retreated into the sanctuary of my bedroom, emerging only for school. Friends—and even Jacob—have become distant echoes, their calls and texts avoided like the plague. With a bold embrace of a fresh start, I shook things up. Reluctantly, I left my cozy cocoon, facing the mirror's gaze. What greeted me was a battlefield of exhaustion. Dark circles loomed beneath my weary eyes—each one a testament to sleepless nights of sadness. I tiptoed down the wooden stairs; each creak whispered warnings. Charlie lost himself at the kitchen table in the newspaper's pages. Dad's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes widening. "Morning, Bella," he said. "Morning," I murmured. I strolled to the fridge, the cool breeze kissing my face. Reaching for the milk, I snagged a box of Cheerios. With a gentle plop, I settled on the gleaming table. I scooped out cereal, savoring the cold milk and crunchy bites. My dad sat nearby, but he faded into the background. Each spoonful was a moment of bliss—until a sudden thud jolted me. Charlie's fist crashed down like thunder on the table. "That's it, Bella. I'm sending you home," Charlie said. I halted mid-crunch, my cereal frozen in astonishment. "What?" I exclaimed, eyes wide. "I'm sending you back to your mom in Jacksonville," Charlie responded. It took me a minute to grasp the meaning of his words. "What... what have I done?" I pondered, my face a canvas of confusion. This was unfair. The first week was hard when Edward left, but I haven't missed a school day, and my grades have been perfect. Charlie scowls. "That's the thing. You do nothing. You do nothing except go to school and lock yourself up in your bedroom," he says. I raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to do something bad?" I asked. "No, I want you to get out and do something fun instead of moping around all the time," Charlie responded. "I'm not moping around." "Wrong word," he admitted, frustration flickering in his eyes. "Moping word would be better; at least you're doing something. You're... lifeless, Bella. That's the expression I mean." I sighed and spoke. "I'm sorry, Dad." "I don't want you to apologize," "Then what do you want me to do?" "Bella," Charlie began, a moment of uncertainty in his voice. "You're not the first to face this kind of struggle." I nodded. "I know," I said. "Listen, you might need some support. When your mother left and took you with her, it hit me hard," Charlie admitted, his eyes reflecting the weight of the past. "I know, Dad." "But I managed it. Bella, it's clear you're struggling with this breakup. Honestly, we both know things aren't improving at all." "I'm fine," Charlie ignored me. "Maybe, well, talk to someone about it. A professional," he said. "A therapist?" I asked. "It may help." Charlie urged me to see a psychoanalyst and share my journey. Sure, I could unmask the truth—but do I want to end up in a padded cell for it? Charlie read my expression and spoke, "Or maybe your mother...." I interrupted Charlie and spoke. "Look, dad, I'm fine. I'm not going to a therapist. If you want, I'll go out tonight and hang out with friends." "That's not what I want from you, Bella," Charlie argued. I let out a weary sigh, glancing down at the table. "Dad, I'm lost. First, you're upset that I seem idle. Then, you say I can't go out. What do you want from me?" I asked. "I want you to find happiness; actually, let's rephrase that. I can't stand the idea of your misery. It's best that you escape Forks for a bit," Charlie suggested. "I'm not leaving." "Why not?" "One, I'm in my last semester of school..." "You're a good student. You'll figure it out." "Two, I do not want to burden mom and Phil," I continued. "Your mother wants you to move back in with her." "Yeah, but it's too hot there, and I've gotten used to this weather here." Dad's frustration simmered, his fist slamming into the table like thunder. "We both see what's unfolding here, and trust me, it's not good for you," he declared. Charlie drew in a deep breath, the moment's weight pressing down. "Bell's. Months have slipped by—no calls, letters, or word from him. He's gone and not coming back; it's time to move on and stop waiting," he said. "I'm not waiting. I don't expect him to come back," I said. "Bella..." "I have to get to school." I stood up, rinsed off my cereal, and dumped it in the sink. I can't deal with this conversation right now. "I'm setting plans with Jessica," I responded, my gaze glued to the floor. "I'll check if she's up for a movie in Port Angeles." Before Charlie could even blink, I slipped through the door. The frosty air slapped my face like a brisk reminder of reality. Pulling into the school parking lot, I breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting a prime parking spot near the entrance. I parked swiftly and seized the moment, wandering over to the inviting park benches. I pulled out my battle-worn calculus textbook, the cover scuffed and stained with years of use, and with a flourish, opened it to a pristine new chapter. I plunged into the maze of intricate equations, ready to conquer. As time went by, voices swelled around me. I sighed and gathered my belongings. I set forth to my first-period English class. The vibrant buzz of banter danced through the hallways, igniting excitement. As I entered the classroom, the lively chatter subsided into hushed anticipation. I nestled into my seat, primed for Mr. Berty's illuminating lecture. Time passed in school, and soon, the bell rang, and I started repacking my bag. I went to my calculus class and sat next to Jessica. As I did, Jessica didn't look up at me, and I sighed. I felt awful. It had been months since Jessica had said hello in the hall. Now, I worried I had upset her with my behavior. It would not be easy to talk to her now. The class flew by, and it was time to leave. I looked at Jessica, who was packing up her stuff to go. I spoke, "Jess?" Jessica twisted in her seat to face me, eyeing me incredulously. "Are you talking to me, Bella?" she asked. "Um, yes," I responded. "What? Do you need help with calculus homework?" "No," I responded as I shook my head. "Would you go to the movies with me tonight? I need a girls' night now after everything." "Why are you asking me?" Jessica asked. I smiled slightly. "Well, you're the first person I go to when I want girl time," I responded. "Hum, I do not know." "Do you have plans?" "No, I guess I can go. What do you want to see?" "I'm not sure what is playing. Is there anything you would like to see?" "Well, there is a new romantic comedy that is getting good reviews, and then there is Dead End." "What's that one about?" "Zombies or something." "That sounds perfect." I'd rather deal with zombies than watch a romance. "Okay," Jessica said, surprised at my response. "Do you want me to pick you up after school?" "Sure," I responded. Before departing the classroom, Jessica flashed a warm, radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with delight. The hours whizzed by like leaves in the wind. Arriving home, I retreated to my sanctuary—the bedroom. With a resigned sigh, I let my heavy school bag drop. I floated over to my closet, where a stylish purse awaited. Delving into my stuffed backpack felt like a treasure hunt. At last, my favorite leather wallet emerged from the depths. Then, a blaring car horn pierced the peaceful silence outside. With another heavy sigh, I descended the creaking wooden stairs, each step a familiar echo. Stepping outside, I spotted Jessica waiting in her car, the engine humming like a content cat. I slid into the passenger seat, the worn leather welcoming under my fingertips, and buckled in as Jessica finally broke the silence. "So, what brought this on?" Jessica asked. "Brought what on?" I asked. "Why did you suddenly want to hang out?" "I needed to get out after staying cooped up at home." Jessica nodded. "So, what's up with you and Mike these days?" I asked. "Nothing." "Nothing? Aren't you all going out?" "Nope." "Oh, are you going out with anyone else?" "Hum, I went out with Conner sometimes and with Eric two weeks ago." "Eric Yorkie? How did this happen?" "He asked me out, and I couldn't think of a nice way to say no." "Where did he take you?" She shared the details during our ride, and I settled into my seat and listened. The movie was early, so we ate after the movie. When the movie was over, we headed out. "Where do you want to eat?" Jessica asked. "I don't care," I responded. "Okay," As we strolled, Jessica's excitement sparkled for the movie's hunky star. She passionately described his chiseled jawline and smoldering gaze, painting with words. Meanwhile, my thoughts drifted, lost in a turbulent ocean of memories. Across the street, four familiar faces beckoned from a shadowed past. They tugged at my mind, reminding me of a darker time. Last year, Edward swooped in like a gallant knight, rescuing me from unwanted hands. I looked at Jessica, who was also looking in that direction. Instead of fear, her expression showed caution, as if she were a wary warrior navigating the city. My eyes returned to the men; a powerful feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed me. One man, with curiosity in his eyes, caught my attention. My heart raced as I locked eyes with him, frozen like a statue, caught in a moment suspended in time. "Bella..." Jessica whispered. "I think I know them...." I muttered. "What? Come on, Bella. We should go." I ignored Jessica and strolled past her; the gravel crunched beneath my shoes. Confusion gripped me, yet the men's fierce heat and energy pulled me closer. This urge danced through me, an irrational whim defying all reason. It pulsed like a heartbeat, familiar yet wild. It was pure exhilaration, electrifying my very soul. When I approached the four men, I heard a beautiful, familiar voice telling me to stop. It was his voice. I looked around in shock. The voice spoke again. "Go back to Jessica. You promised nothing stupid." I was alone with Jessica, staring at me and feeling frightened. The four men stared at me, confused, wondering what I was doing. I shook my head. I knew Edward wasn't here, but he had felt surprisingly close to me since I last saw him. His concerned voice carried the same anger I had once found very familiar—something I hadn't heard in what felt like ages. "Walk away, go." The voice was slipping away. I thought I was having some hallucinations. One, I was crazy, or two, my subconscious mind gave me what it thought I wanted. "Bella, turn around," the voice growled. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding. Anger danced in my mind—a curious echo, signaling that Edward cared. It was a wild gift from my subconscious, wrapped in dubious evidence. I moved closer to the men, and one of them confidently said, "Alright, we've got a taker." "Turn around, Bella. This is dangerous," the voice said. I stepped backward, and he faded. I tested my hallucination and strode forward again, and he appeared again. "Stop now," the voice said. "You're not them," I said. "We'll be whoever you want, honey." The first man said. "What a ride!" the second man said. The second man extended his hand to help me onto the bike, and I hesitated. He appeared on the other side of the bike. "Walk away. Go," he said. I looked at him with determination and climbed onto the back of the bike. "I can break promises, too," I said. The second man looked confused and said, "Okay." The bike speeds up rapidly; the wind whips my hair as I question my decision. "Wait," I said. The second man guns the engine, going faster, and Edward stands directly in our path, more present and precise than ever this time. The bike illuminates him and races toward him. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" I yelled. The bike stopped suddenly, and Edward melted into the bustling street. I scurried off and walked back, my heart pounding. As soon as she saw me, Jessica stormed up to me, her face red with anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked. "I ...saw something," I responded. "You are insane. Or suicidal. So what, you're like an adrenaline junkie now? Go hang gliding or bungee jumping. Get on some random stranger's motorcycle." I knew he wasn't real, but I didn't care. I needed to see him, and if danger was what it took, that's what I'd find. After Jessica had dropped me off, I whispered goodnight to Charlie. I headed straight for my sanctuary—the sanctuary of my bedroom. Lying down felt fleeting, like peace was hard to get. A jolt of agony pierced through me, a fiery brand marking the absence of Edward. It felt like a giant hole had ripped through my chest, leaving me gasping for air. The sheer intensity threatened to swallow me whole. My vital organs, laid bare, felt like wounds freshly opened as the air danced over my broken skin, a cruel reminder of my pain. Throbbing and bleeding, the raw discomfort resonated deep within me, an unwavering ache. Years later, those memories blistered in my consciousness, etched forever in the core of my being. Each breath, though unobstructed, hitched strangely in my chest; my head spun like a carnival ride. A heavy, persistent breathlessness overcame me. Curling inward, I hugged my ribs tightly, coldness seeping like frost into my bones. To escape reality's harshness, I embraced numbness as a temporary refuge. A chilling wave of grief washed over me, penetrating my senses. Yet, I discovered I was still here. I was alert and painfully aware of the ache that radiated from my chest, sending wracking waves of hurt through my limbs and pulsing in my head. It was manageable, I reassured myself. Enduring hardship meant confronting the looming challenges and pains. Though the pain remained sharp and unyielding, a strange strength bloomed unexpectedly within me. This inner resolve now allowed me to bear the unbearable weight of loss. I wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or a hallucination, but the same hot pain returned. It reminded me of my past struggles. A quiet stillness surrounded me as I thought about the coming morning. Uncertainty danced at my doorstep for the first time in ages, alluring and unfamiliar.