Behind Blue Eyes Chapter 5

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Before I knew what I was doing I slapped him in the face and jumped off of his bed. I tried to get to my room quickly and slammed the room behind me. I sank down behind the door sobbing.

Why did all guys have to be jerks? He knew I was in pain. Remembering all the deaths that have been in my life. And he kissed me! Plus he was going out with Bella, so he’s a double jerk! I picked my self up off the floor and went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my hair. When I looked okay I went downstairs.

I grabbed some cereal and a bowl in the kitchen and sat down at the counter. Edward walked in and looked like he wanted to talk to me.

“If you touch me again I will hurt you.” I threatened in a low voice. He smirked at me and walked out. I grabbed my crutches and swung to the couch. I curled into a ball again, wondering what day it was.

Emmett sat down next to me on the couch after connecting all of the wires for a video game.

“Wanna play?” he asked. No thanks I thought.

“Nope. I’ll lose. I suck at video games” I responded, still lost in thought.

“You could play a one person game on the Wii.” He was begging now.

“No thanks Emmett. I don’t really want to play.” I told him patiently.

“Aww, come on!” he wined back. When would he just leave me alone?

“No. I. Don’t. Want. To. Play.” I said pointedly. He glared at me and grumbled something under his breath. He hooked up one controller and put in the disc for guitar hero; he stuck the Wii controller into the guitar.

The game hadn’t even started yet and I was getting a headache from the stum bar on the guitar. I got up, and swung myself into the kitchen to finish my cereal that Edward had interrupted.  

As I dumped some milk into the bowl I started thinking about Edward again. Not Edward Cullen, the Edward from when I was little. If I had said I didn’t want to go into the tunnels, he would’ve listened. He always did. It’s all my fault he died. I was overcome with fresh grief. My eyes watered and I blinked rapidly to at least postpone the tears.

Jasper walked in when my grief reached it’s climax.

“What are you thinking about that’s got you so down?” he asked. I glanced at him and a pain that matched my own clouded his eyes.

“Edward.” I responded in a choked whisper. Jasper looked startled.

“What did Edward do?” he inquired.

“Not your brother Edward, Edward whose death is all my fault, Edward from when I was 10, Edward who died right in front of me.” I told him, still whispering. I didn’t doubt the fact that he heard me though. I felt a wave of calm spread through the room.

“Why do you keep doing that?” I asked him sharply, “sometimes people don’t want to be calm.” Jasper looked apologetic. And said it wasn’t him.

“Cut the crap. I know that somehow you’re the one doing it.” I was irritated by his denial. He gave me no further answer so I put my bowl in the sink and swung back upstairs.

When I pushed my door open I found Esme gathering dirty clothes off the floor. I looked down embarrassed.

“I can do my own laundry.” I informed her. “I have been for several years.” Esme chuckled, “No you can’t.” she said. “If Alice had her way you would never wear the same thing twice.”

I grumbled at bit and found my sketchpad in the drawer of my desk. I flipped through the drawings I already finished and stopped at a blank page. I started sketching the wolves that had blocked off my exit. Placing the russet wolf in the background, I made the rest of the wolves snarling and cutting off my escape. I drew in myself with a terrified expression. Then added a rough sketch of Sam and Quill running down the road. I flipped to another blank page and sketched Edward when the medics had pulled him out of the tunnels on a stretcher. His pained expression, his arm-twisted to an odd angle blood dribbling from cuts on his face. I ripped out the page and tore it up with a cry of anguish. I started another sketch of the russet wolf that had been in the lead of the attack. I drew him sitting calmly on the top of a cliff, looking out over the scenery with possessive eyes. I drew the rest of his pack in the background. They were still snarling, but they were after a bear not me. I put the bear on its hind legs, an acknowledgement of defeat paired with determination in her eyes, swiping her massive clawed paw at a smaller gray wolf.

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