The Girl Who Was Taken (Renesme Cullens Twin Sister)

Fifty

"Here it is," Renesme said beside me, sitting in the back of the car as Carlisle drove us up the driveway in the woods, toward a big house with a lot of windows. I'd seen it before, through Renesme's eyes. I'd run around the yard barefoot with Jacob, and when we walked in, and I laid my eyes on the grand piano, I knew I played there once with Edward. It was completely familiar and foreign at the same time.

When the airplane had landed, Edward had decided to run back instead of driving in the car with us. He said he needed space to think. No one was going to argue with him, least of all me.

Carlisle excused himself to his study, and Esme followed after, looking worried. Alice said she wanted to start working on the funerals, and she disappeared too. Paul and Jacob had driven back home with their packs and were going back to La Push to see their families and be there when they announced Jared's death.

"So let me give you the grand tour," Renesme said. "This is the living room where we spend most of our time together as a family, and over here's the kitchen." She led me through an archway, since the whole house was open concept, and we stood next to marble counters. "We keep the place stocked full because with me and Jacob combined, and now you and probably Paul, the food gets eaten really quick."

She took an apple out of a draw of the fridge. "You want one?" she asked, already trying to hand it over. I took it, but I held on to it, not very hungry at the moment. She took her own apple, polished it on her shirt, and bit in as she led us through to a balcony. "This is the backyard," she said through a mouthful. She chewed and swallowed as we looked out at the woods beyond us, with thick trees that were as old as the vampires, and green moss, and ferns to cover the forest floor.

I noticed she wasn't looking at the forest though, just at the bitten apple in her hand. She licked her teeth, and then frowned at me. "Is it bad?" I asked.

"No," she shook her head, "Just... Not as good as I remember." Without warning she reached out and touched my cheek, and showed me memories of biting into apples, the crunch, and snap of fruit, and the juice that would squirt out of the really tasty ones, slightly sour and citrusy on her tongue. Then she showed me the memory of only a moment ago, stepping out onto the balcony, and taking a bite of the apple. The flavor was dull, cold from the fridge, and it tasted dry, and the chunks in her mouth were a lot of effort to chew.

"Do you see the difference?" she asked. "Am I going crazy?"

I turned away from her, knowing she was asking if tasting human blood was the reason she wasn't getting as much of a kick out of an apple anymore. And I didn't really have an answer for her, I wasn't sure that food didn't taste as good after a big meal of human blood. I grew up on the stuff, and mixed and matched it with any food I desired. Especially ice cream cones or cakes. "You just got a bad apple," I said, and handed her mine But when she took a bite of mine, she still came away with the same face. Disgruntled. Unsatisfied. Slightly repulsed. "Give it a few days maybe..."

She nodded and lined the two apples, each with one bite in them, up along the railing. "This isn't how I pictured your homecoming at all," she said.

"No?" I asked. I looked around at the woods, quiet and empty, except for the few critters chirping in the trees. Then I looked back through the picture frame windows to show the empty kitchen and living room. The emptiness was familiar.

She reached out again and showed me images from her memory of the family all hanging out together, sitting on couches, talking in small groups, sharing gifts, hugging each other hello. And then she showed me some from her imagination, and I could tell they where made up because I was in them, surrounded by our family, next to our mother with her luscious brown hair, and doe-round eyes, and she was smiling, and kissing my forehead. "I'm so glad you're home," she told me. And I saw myself smiling up at her, happy for once.

I pulled away from her touch. "Don't do that." My voice was harsh, and I looked away, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "She's gone, and she's not going to come back. People don't come back from the dead, no matter how much you love them."

"Don't you want to know her better?" Renesme asked. "I can show you everything I know about her. Like the kinds of dinners she used to cook me, and how she wanted me to do dance once, and went way out of her way to find a dance teacher who wouldn't ask questions about how fast I grew. And—" she must have seen me wrinkling my nose at this, and decided to go in a different direction, "And not all of it is even good stuff. I can show you everything. I can show you her yelling at me for doing dumb things, and getting grounded, and the weird noises she made when her and dad were in the other room having sex and thought they were being quiet enough that I couldn't hear, and I hated it—That's why I moved into this house actually—but now she's gone, and I just miss her."

I grabbed onto the railing and squeezed my eyes tight, trying to ground myself in the new land that I barely knew. The last time I was here physically in this body, was with Daddy, and we were running through cities and towns, hiding in alleyways, only exploring in the dark of night. And I knew I should feel worse about losing my mother than I did about him, but for the longest time, he was all I knew, and I watched him be ground down to dust by the same man who killed my mom. At least her death was quick.

"Please, let me show you. We're twins, we're supposed to face the world together."

I bit my lip, and broke. If not for me, for her. I held out my hand to her. She was right. Even if I didn't do it for myself, for some reason, she needed this, and something deep inside me told me that I needed to make her feel better. To make her believe that what happened was worth it. That I wasn't a lost cause, and the heartbreak would someday lessen. She took my hand and showed me everything, one by one, from her earliest memories onward. And the warm loving smile of our mother was etched into my brain, and the hugs I never received now felt like I had gotten them when I was younger, and she brushed through my hair like there weren't any knots or tangles in it, and she told me I was beautiful and kind and an angel.

I felt pure love from seeing these memories, but on another level deeper inside, I hurt. Every single one of them was painful. Because these were all Renesme's memories, not mine. Witnessing them told me that if I had grown up here, things would have been different. I would have been different. Renesme would too, because if we had grown up together, we could have taken care of each other. That between the two of us and our tendency toward destruction, we would have gotten up to a lot more trouble and gotten away with it too.

"Remember the time I burnt down your Christmas tree?" I asked. And the thought of it, lighting up and the dancing flames, soothed me slightly. I had just wanted to keep that fire burning bright.

A laugh burst from her mouth, "Yeah. That was the first time I tasted human blood fresh from a body, and then I was back in my own body and our house was on fire. Mom was so angry and confused that I tried to sabotage our Christmas, and then I didn't know why I had done it either... but..."

Renesme touched her fingers to mine again, and I was back on the Christmas night, held in a warm embrace with a blanket over us as we watched the small cabin burning. "I just don't understand," Bella said, her mouth above my ear. "Why would you drag the tree to the fire? Were you not listening when Dad told you not to go near the fireplace? You could have hurt yourself." But even as she spoke in a scolding manner, her arms hugged me tight to her side, making sure I would never get hurt again. The blanket shrouded us from the snow fall, and I rested my head on her shoulder, letting my eyes flutter closed to fall asleep.

Then the memory was over and I was back on the balcony. I was crying now, having gotten too caught up in it to be able to stop myself. I wiped the tears away and hugged Renesme close. "It's going to be okay. She would have wanted us to be okay and to be happy." At least that much I had gotten from all the shared memories that weren't mine. At least now, I knew I had a mother who would have loved me no matter what, and she had risked her life, and lost it to save me. But she knew the risk, and she took it because it was worth it to make sure I was happy and free. She was gone, but we had to go on living and find happiness because she wouldn't have wanted anything less for us. 

NOTE--

Dedicated to Hotstuff7116