Not to be morbid or anything, but I'd never given much thought to how I'd want to die. If I happened to be asked about it though, I wouldn't have to think very hard. It would be the same way I wanted to live: happy, content, surrounded by the people I love. Preferably it would be in my childhood home of Forks, Washington.
My parents got married young and quickly figured out they were in way over their heads.
They divorced when I was just a year old, my mom taking me and my twin sister Bella with her. I guess it got too hard though, taking care of two babies by herself.
Not even two months after she left, she sent me back to my dad and that's where I lived for most of my youth.
I'm not sure what criteria she used to decide which daughter to keep: the quieter one? The one who looked more like her? Was it random?
It wasn't like I was particularly upset at the decision though. I loved living with my dad.
His best friends were Harry Clearwater and Billy Black. We spent a lot of time at their houses: Fish fry's, birthdays, big games. I would trail behind Leah and Rachel and Rebecca or play with little baby Seth. Their houses were my second home and their children were basically my family. For a time I actually thought we were real cousins.
My dad had never been the most affectionate or vocal father, but the small things kinda canceled that out.
After every softball game he took me out for pizza, every birthday he sent balloons to my school, and whenever I got a good grade he would take me to the toy store and let me pick out whatever I wanted.
That all ended though when Renee decided she was finally stable enough (a lie) to take care of both me and Bella and I was sent to live with her.
It was a big change for me. Sure, I talked to Bella and Renee on the phone all the time and we saw each other on holidays, but how much could you really know someone through calls and occasional visits?
It wasn't terrible per se. It seemed like every time I opened my eyes we were in a different place: Denver, Los Angelos, Orlando.
Not that I minded. I'd always been adventurous and found it exciting. Not to mention the fact that for the first time in my life, I got to spend more than a couple of weeks with my mother. Getting to know Renee was great. Getting to know my sister was even better.
We had basically been separated for the first 13 years of our lives. I had been closer to my school friends and Leah than her.
It was a little patchy at first, neither of us knowing what to make of the other. And Bella was more awkward than a deer walking for the first time. But I had lived with Dad my whole life and knew how to deal with her.
I dedicated my whole first month there to breaking through to her. Accompanying her to the library, asking her for help with school, inviting her to my games and practices, etc, etc. Within no time she warmed up to me, and that was that. Bella has been my best friend ever since (as I'm pretty sure I was hers).
I was grateful for my time with Renee and Bella but there was always something missing. As much as I loved them, Home was home.
And that's why I was overjoyed when Bella came up with the tremendous idea that we go live with Dad for the remainder of our high school career.
Renee had gotten remarried not too long ago to this minor league baseball player named Phil (nice guy), and Bella had wanted to give them space. I hadn't really cared about that (we would be out of the house in a few years anyway, why did they need space?), but I was behind going back to Forks.
So here we were outside of the airport, waiting on Dad to pick us up. We both leaned against the building, Bella tapping her hands against it and shifting her weight over to her other leg every so often. She stared out into the air, obviously somewhere else mentally.
I nudged her shoulder, making a note of how I didn't have to reach to do it.
Bella had always been the taller twin but in these last few months I had been rapidly catching up with her. This time next month I would probably be taller.
"Don't be nervous"
Bella shook her head, "I'm not.". She continued to look off into space but under my unrelenting gaze she continued.
"I mean, I am, but not a bad nervous. Just... anxious. I haven't been here in years."
"Oh, and whose fault is that?" I smirked, teasing but not blaming.
Bella returned a small smile.
I let my head lean all the way back against the wall and closed my eyes, taking it all in. The constant pitter patter of rain, the moist air that seemed to wrap around me like a blanket.
"I'm ...Soliced"
"Soliced. I don't think that's a word"
"Of course, it's not a word. It's a feeling." Bella let out a chuckle, small but still there. She didn't look any less anxious but at least she seemed out of her head.
I linked our arms together and laid my head on her shoulder, continuing to listen to the light rain. Usually, I always had something to say (a trait I'd gotten from my mother), but nothing came to mind right now.
We stayed like that until the clearing of a throat came from our left. I opened my eyes to see my Dad standing right in front of us.
His mustache had grown a bit longer and the lines around his eyes had deepened slightly, but overall he still looked the same. From his cop uniform to his awkward stance.
My heart seemed to skyrocket.
"Girls-"
"Dad!"
Before he could finish the sentence I was in his arms, hugging him like my life depended on it. He seemed to still for a moment before hugging me back just as tightly.
I took a deep breath and for a second I was five years old again, running to him after winning my first softball game. I could've sworn tears started to form in my eyes.
After what felt like a lifetime (but was really no longer than ten seconds), I let go and moved back, making room for Bella who stood behind me with an unsure look on her face.
Bella and Dad exchanged a brief, stiff hug that was the complete opposite of ours. It would've looked weird to anyone else but I knew that was just them. They didn't warm up to people easily. That was okay though. They'd have lots of time to figure it out.
Dad took all three of our bags with only a little bit of protest from Bella. It was a brisk walk to his squad car. He loaded the bags in the trunk as we got into the car, Bella in the passenger seat, and me in the back. He then got in and just like that, we were off.
The ride from the airport could only be described as torture.
Sometimes I forget how alike Bella and Dad really are. We made small talk, Dad asking me about how Softball was going and Bella about her hair. My sister's answers were short and precise so I did most of the talking. Even then, the tension was still palpable.
There were lots of pictures around the house: pictures of Grandpa Geoffrey and Grandma Helen (who I was named after), pictures of me and Bella throughout the years, and some of Dad and Renee.
Me and Bella exchanged a look as we gazed at the last ones. I knew Dad had never really recovered from his failed marriage, but it still hurt to have such a big reminder.
Apart from the pictures, the house was mostly bare and lacked any personal touches. Still, it was nice and comforting.
I went straight for my old room right across from Bella's, wanting to give the two of them some time to connect interference-free.
I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation though,
"You like purple, right?"
As a child, my room had been a loud green, with sports posters and stuffed animals everywhere. But for my thirteenth birthday, Charlie had redecorated the whole thing.
We brought paint swatches and all new decor and spent the whole day on it. Afterward, I invited all my friends to my house to show it off.
It all seemed kind of pointless looking back on it, since I left to live with Renee not even a year later.
The walls were now a warm, light brown color. There was a big, mahogany desk with a lava lamp on it to the right of the bed and a nightstand to the left. Both the bedspread and curtains were green (my favorite color). There were some posters with generic quotes on the wall and a white fuzzy, carpet in front of the nightstand.
There was a small closet, mostly taken up by a dresser.
I put up my belongings, which were mostly sports gear and shoes. I had only packed the basics for clothes and planned on going shopping with Bella later on for more.
Dad was called into work a little later. He apologized but me and Bella shoed him off.
He ordered us some pizza, wrote down his work number and emergency contacts, and checked all the doors and windows a dozen times before leaving.
My heart clenched at the action. Renee had been rather scatterbrained and Bella picked up most of the slack.
Bella had to not only parent herself and Renee but sometimes me too. I often felt guilty about it and tried to make her job easier.
But with Dad, that wasn't a concern.
I had almost forgotten what It was like being taken care of without feeling bad for it. It felt nice.
I used the time to email Renee and make some calls to my friends back home.
The pizza came about an hour after Dad left and I decided to chill in my sister's room while we ate.
Bella sat against her headboard, reading a beat-down Jane Austen book while I lay at the bottom of the bed, listening to my iPod.
Bella didn't speak. Not that I expected her to.
While Bella was more like our dad, I was more like our mom. I liked making new friends and trying new things. Having conversations with people sometimes got me drunker than alcohol ever could. But I liked these quiet moments with my sister.
Shortly after, I faded to sleep. The feeling of a blanket being thrown over me and the sound of a light switch flicking was the last thing I remembered.