Behing Blue Eyes Chapter 7

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The first thing I felt when I started to come to, was warmth. My eyes slowly opened. I blinked a few times, waiting for everything to come into focus. I was on the couch in the living room of the Cullens’ house.

I stretched my muscled before trying to move my stiff limbs. My toes bumped into something cold and hard; I looked up and twisted in my seat. My breath caught. Jasper was sitting completely still, no motion in his chest. I sat up quickly and leaned over him. He wasn’t breathing.

“Jasper?” I whispered, as I shook him. When he opened his eyes he scared me.

“Oh thank god you’re not dead, you weren’t breathing.” I told him quietly. I rearranged myself on the couch so that I was curled up next to his cold body. He was always cold, I didn't think he would get warm. He put an arm around me and hugged me close. When I started to shiver slightly, he pulled the quilt around my shoulders, sticking it between my body and his.

I started thinking about what had happened in the meadow. Who had picked me up as I blacked out? What were the Cullens? Who was the stranger that Jasper took me from?

My stomach rumbling jerked me from my thoughts. I groaned and stood up. Why was it so easy to walk now? I looked down; there was no cast on my leg. I decided not to ponder it until I ate.

In the kitchen Esme was making eggs. I put some onto a plate and said a quick word of thanks before wolfing them down. She glanced at me when I walked to the sink to wash my plate.

“I can do that,” she said, “Go rest.” I smiled at her gratefully before walking back to the living room. I paused in the doorway, wondering where my sketchpad had gone.

“What are you worried about?” Jasper asked me mildly.

“I was wondering where my sketch pad went,” I informed him. “Rosalie took it into the meadow, so me and Edward went to get it and I hit my head on a rock, then I woke up in the place you took me from.”

Jasper looked as though he was pondering the question, but I had a feeling he knew where it was.

“I believe it’s probably still in the meadow.” He said thoughtfully. I groaned. Why did it have to be in the meadow? I ran up to my room, I have an extra sketchpad hidden under my mattress.

I pulled it out and flipped to the first page. I rummaged around in my drawers for a pencil. I drew some light lines, forming the trees around the meadow; the goddess-like Rosalie sitting in the middle, her eyes closed.

I drew me, my head against a rock; trickle of blood dribbling down my forehead. I sketched out anything I could remember from the strange room with the strange man.

Feeling no urge to stop drawing, I added Jasper and myself on the couch with the blanket between us.

“My nose doesn’t look like that.” Jaspers’ quiet voice rang out behind me. I whirled around, not having heard him walk up.

I chuckled, “You scared me Jazz.” He didn’t look impressed. He slipped the sketchpad out of my hands and took my pencil. Flipping to the next page, he started a silhouette of a person under the moon, vaguely you could tell it was either Bella or me.

Next, he added a tall dark horse with a flowing mane and tail standing next to the person. There was no doubt of the person being me now. I used to love riding horses. After the accident it was difficult to do anything with out doubling over in pain, much less ride a horse.

I looked away from the drawing feeling homesick. I was angry, sad, and helpless; the only thing I really loved, other than my sketches, had been riding. Jasper still denied being able to feel or change my emotions, but I could feel him trying to calm me. I resisted him, my anger mounting. Sometimes people wanted to feel negative emotions. It reminds us that life isn’t perfect, no matter how good we seem to be, there’s still pain just beneath the surface.

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