Dusk - A Twilight Reimagining

6 - No Rest For the Wicked

Rain.

All it ever fucking did was rain in this goddamn state. Bella was here less than two weeks, and she was already sick of it. She was sick of the swaying evergreens. She was tired of waking up to melodies and gloomy darkness. Bella Swan shuddered just thinking about getting home and drying up, only to walk Chimney through the downpour later. 

The young woman kicked a rock as hard as she could, watching it split the rain and splash in a puddle across the street. She shoved her fists into her soaked pockets to prevent herself from picking a fight with the bark of a tree. Her nostrils flared as she breathed a dark smoke, contrasting the frigid air. 

Bella wanted to scream curses that had yet to be invented. 

School went terribly—a severe understatement. Her social studies teacher assigned them a "Where I'm From" presentation to introduce their world histories unit. Her essay outline was due today, but she had about one sentence consisting of "idk," "so yeah," and "kinda." And finally, worst of all, she had to exist in the irritating presence of Edward Cullen. The entire 50 minutes was a pseudo-interrogation about her experience with the man in her backyard, and all it did—other than piss her off—was remind her of what she put Jacob through yesterday. 

The day couldn't get any worse.

But, of course, it could. She felt the chill of cold water crash against her skin and force her raincoat to cling to her arms uncomfortably. Bella screamed at the speeding car as it disappeared around a corner, her feet futilely sending her running after the jerk. She couldn't control her anger as she threw her backpack to the ground and tugged off the wet coat.

Her breathing was heavy as she damn near broke down right there. Bella pressed her hands against her eye sockets and shook, unsure if anger or melancholy was taking over her soul. The rain didn't stop; did the rain ever stop here? 

Could she just get a break? 

She found herself longing again, which only angered her more. Everything angered her now, and that ironically made her fume the most. Bella itched for movement. She remembered the searing Arizona sun and how her mouth was never idle. She remembered daily spats and endless supplies of venom dancing along her tongue. Oh, how hard she fought to escape into this motionless life, this peaceful life.

Why the hell wasn't she happy?

"YO! Bella!" a cheery voice called to her. Bella spun on her heels, sending herself pirouetting to the ground. "Oohhhh, that was unfortunate," the voice murmured. 

Bella lifted her head from the ground, blinking through her confusion and stuffing her anger away violently. A strawberry-blonde girl around Bella's age sat in the backseat of a black BMW. She was sticking her head out the window, holding her bright pink, oversized sunglasses up on her head. She grinned at the downed girl, popping open the door and stepping out to lend her a hand. 

She wore everything expected of a teenage girl. Light-washed jeans, a ruffled pink top, big pink shoes, an oversized silver belt, and her statement pink sunglasses. Soft features enchanted her oval face, brought to life by a dust of silver dove makeup. 

Bella was stunned, to say the least. She couldn't help but compare them as the strawberry-blonde grabbed her arm and lifted her. Bella, in her black cargo pants, her black oversized shirt, and her large lightning earrings. Bella, with her high ponytail and only foundation on her face, stood next to Aphrodite in human skin. 

"Do I... know you?"

"Nope!" Aphrodite hummed, pointing back at her car. A pair of grey eyes stared at them from the darkness, a smile warming their depths. "But Cyra does, so that makes us besties already!"