Music of the Day
Twilight Melody by Adrian von Ziegler
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It was mid morning, the temperatures rising to a mere 63°. It was early spring in the town of Boloxi, Mississippi. A young Mary Alice Brandon was lounging on the porch swing, reading a small book. She hummed a cheerful tune, ignoring the periodic angered shouts from inside the house.
Thomas Brandon was an angry man, prone to violent outbursts and physical abuse. He was a jeweler, but his customer base was seldom. His taste was that of a high class family, but he was stuck with being considered 'middle class'. He provided for his family, of course. But it was their fault for costing him so much money.
The whiskey didn't help like he would always claim. In actuality, it just made everything worse. His ever loyal wife, Lillian Brandon, was the barrier between his drunken rages and their children. Her kindness and big heart was passed down to their children, Lillian was glad of that. She honestly wouldn't have been able to handle two more of her husband. But, she kept her thoughts to herself.
Mary Alice jumped, a crash echoing their "family" home. She eyed the front door with distaste as she continued to hear her father rant and rave. It wasn't long before Cynthia Brandon, Mary Alice's older sister, came trotting up the porch steps.
"Alice! Are you reading the book I gave you?" Cynthia grinned.
Little Alice presented the book with a simple grin, her eyes saying, "I'm obviously reading a book."
Cynthia was three years older than Alice, and the two sisters absolutely adored each other. There were sisterly arguments here and there, as with any siblings, but they decided that it was up to them to fill their home with as much love and happiness as possible. Cynthia was the second barrier, although she was never harmed.
Thomas was painfully obvious with favoritism. Cynthia was his pride and joy, his first born. And she played that part, to protect her younger sister. Her soft musings, her intellectual words that would distract her father from his temper tantrums. That way he wouldn't beat Lillian or Mary Alice. She would take the blame for the minor inconveniences, she would take the harsh words and insults, so that little Alice didn't have to.
And sweet Alice, would always be there to make Cynthia laugh, to be joyful. They learned that being in a family takes work, more work than was necessary. But, their father would never break them. Because they had each other.
Cynthia had crawled next to her sister, whispering excitedly. "What part are you at?"
"Oh, we've met the tin man. When are we going to meet the wonderful wizard?" Alice gripped the book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, tightly.
"You'll just have to keep reading!" Cynthia giggled.
"Girls!" Lillian called, peering out the front door. She found her daughters smushed together on the porch swing. "Oh, don't you two look precious!"
"Hi, mommy!" Little Alice squealed.
Lillian stepped out onto the porch, kneeling down in front of the two girls. "Breakfast is on the table. Let's get cleaned up, shall we?"
Their mother was was a petite woman, with inky black hair that flowed down to her elbows. She was quite beautiful, and her features were passed down. She was glad that her daughters looked more like her, and nothing like their father. But, she kept her thoughts to herself.
Cynthia's eyes gravitated to the bruise on her mother's jaw. Her own eyes narrowing as she didn't have to guess where she got the bruise from. Lillian's eyes met her eldest daughter's, giving her a look that meant 'keep it to yourself'.
Thomas and Lillian were waiting at the kitchen table, while their children washed up. The girls were quick, knowing that their father had the patience of a newborn baby.
"Cynthia, your teacher tells me that you are excelling in your schooling. I am very proud of you, sweetheart," Thomas smiled, although his voice was condescending, his eyes landing on Alice.
"Thank you, daddy!" Cynthia giggled, keeping up her enthusiasm for her family's sake.
"Mary Alice," Thomas addressed his youngest daughter as if she were a mere acquaintance. "Your teacher says that you are struggling, not paying attention."
Alice gulped her food, trying to find her voice. "I'm trying my best, da-"
"Don't give me that shit-"
"Thomas, please-"
"Shut your damn mouth, Lillian. You are too easy on her-"
"Daddy," Cynthia interrupted, knowing full well that he doesn't like interruptions.
Thomas whipped his head back to his eldest. "Did you just interrupt me, Cynthia Brandon?"
Cynthia pulled herself together, shaking herself from the initial fear. "I'm sorry, daddy, but I don't want you to get so angry. I get worried for you." She pulled out her best smile, her best baby voice.
"You don't have to worry, daddy," Cynthia grabbed her father's hand. "I'll make sure that Alice does better in school."
Thomas analyzed the girl before him, he knew full well that Cynthia would make him look good. So, he put on a smile of relief. "That's my girl," he agreed, patting her hand.
"Mary Alice, you're lucky you have such a smart sister. You will do better in school, do you hear me?"
"Yes sir," Alice replied robotically.
Thomas resumed shoveling food into his mouth, not noticing the smile of gratitude that Lillian gave to Cynthia.
●○●○●○●
Cynthia's eyes flashed open, a faint gasp escaping her throat as she awoke from the elaborate dream. She rolled over, feeling her blankets. Yes, she was still in Forks. She was in her own home. She sighed, swallowing down the emotions that threatened to come out. Oh, how she missed Alice dearly.
She padded out of the bedroom, going to the kitchen for coffee. It was 5am, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She readied the coffee maker, gazing blankly as the coffee dripped into the pot. Cynthia didn't move from her spot until the coffee was done brewing. She poured herself a cup, barely acknowledging the few fae that stirred around.
Cynthia sat at her small table, her eyes unfocused as she stared at her coffee cup, the steam mesmerizing her. The steam seemed to morph before her eyes, swirling, jittering. She interpreted the shapes as humanoid, a small one. She blinked, the shapes flickering away as if it had never happened. Scrying was difficult for her, it never lasted long. She sighed again, bringing the cup to her lips.
She glanced at the clock, time was moving agonizingly slow. She wanted so badly to go visit Bella, but she had to stay away for now. She knew that Edward was there, against Charlie's wishes. Bella needed to have this talk with Edward. So, Cynthia would stay put, until Bella called for her.
●○●○●○●
Edward sat silently in Bella's rocking chair, she was sleeping, unaware that Edward was in her room and waiting for her to wake up. It had been a couple days since they had returned from Italy. Edward was told to wait, by Alice of course, to speak to Bella. She was still angry, rightfully so. Alice saw that Bella would have been explosive, (No pun intended. Okay, maybe a little.) unable to calm.
So, Edward waited. Waited until she was ready. Alice said that this time was okay, nothing bad would happen. But he was still wary. That vision he saw... he had never seen her so angry before. It was intimidating, he must admit. He gazed at his beloved, she didn't talk in her sleep, like she had before.
His brows came together. So much had changed, so much. He knew that this Bella wasn't the same as before. She was different, but was it in a good way? A bad way? He wasn't sure. His attention was brought back to her stirring, waking up.
Bella sat up slowly, already knowing that he was in her room. But he didn't know that, of course. They locked eyes, neither saying a word. Bella stood up, more graceful, he noticed. Edward stood and carefully made his way towards her. He could see that her eyebrows had puckered, her thinking face. He went to speak, "Bella, I-"
Edward's head snapped to the side, shock and confusion bubbling in his chest. Bella had slapped him, hard. And what's even more confusing, it stung. He dared to look back at her face, unable to shake the shock. He instinctively took a step back.
"I suppose I deserve that."
"You're an idiot."
Edward sighed. "I know."
"You're an asshole."
He flinched. "I know."
"Do you?" Bella's voice went up an octave.
Edward let out a shuddered breath, he was certain that if he was alive, his heart would have been pounding. This is what he was afraid of, he was terrified of losing her.
"Bella, I know what I did was awful-" Bella scoffed, folding her arms and looking at anywhere but him.
"-but I am so sorry. When I left, I thought I was protecting you. I realize now that it was a bad decision on my part."
"It was a dumbass decision," Bella scoffed again. "What you did is unforgivable."
Edward swallowed thickly. Is this it?
"You broke my heart, Edward. You left me out there, alone and terrified. You left me out there in the middle of the woods!" Bella ended in a shout.
Charlie stirred, his snoring stuttered, but he did not wake.
"Did you know a human can die of a broken heart?" Bella asked.
Edward could only nod.
"And yet you-"
"Bella, please," Edward whispered; hoarse and trembling.
"What, Edward? Did you think that I would come back so easily?"
"I could only hope," he whispered.
Bella let out a sharp laugh at his audacity.
"I hoped you would because of who you are. You're kind, forgiving, selfless-"
"The Bella you knew is dead."
Edward recoiled as if she had slapped him again. He couldn't speak. He was drowning. He had promised himself that he would leave if she wanted him to. But now? He doesn't want to leave. He wants to stay with her, to love her, to hold her. Could he leave?
Bella was right. Her old self was dead. She felt different, and she really did die in the Mirror dimension. The Queen brought her back, yes, but she had died. She was reborn as Fae. More or less.
"I'm a completely different person now, Edward. I'm not the same weak, insignificant human you first met. I've grown, I've experienced new things. I've changed. I'd like to blame you, but I don't want to put my change in a negative light. It's far from negative. This change is good."
Edward involuntarily sank down to his knees. The weight of his desperation and sadness was too much.
"Am I too late? To beg for your forgiveness? Am I too late to make it up to you?" He asked weakly.
Bella's eyes widened slightly in surprise. But she answered, nonetheless. "I haven't decided yet."
Edward chuckled, humorless. He looked up to her face, and she was surprised to see defeat, despair. He never rose; he stayed on his knees, before her. Completely and utterly vulnerable.
"I love you, Bella. I never stopped loving you. I was wrong. I never should have treated you that way. It's inexcusable, it's unacceptable, I know that!" He gripped at his hair, seeming to grimace at the pain. He stuttered over his words. "I - I fucked up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
The corner of Bella's mouth quirked, she found it amusing to hear Edward use such language. She couldn't help but admit that she enjoyed seeing him grovel. Even so, she didn't like him being in pain.
Charlie's dreams are coming to an end. He will wake soon.
Bella, too, slowly sank to her knees. She kept her hands folded in her lap. She loved him, so much. But this wasn't something that she'd forgive so easily. He needed to prove himself.
"What are you thinking?" Edward asked, hoarse and desperate.
"It's weird, seeing you like this," she muttered offhandedly. "We will talk later."
She rose from her spot on the floor, leaving him alone. "You should leave. Charlie will wake up soon."
Edward met her eyes once more, seeing her face, instantly knowing that she was serious. And something else. Something magical.
He nodded, heaving himself off the floor and made his way to her window. He walked sluggishly, a human pace. He jumped down, flinching at the sound that solidified his fears.
Click.