Starving for the sun

Cherry

A chill in the air, a soft pattering of rain, and sky that's so grey, it's almost black doesn't help her feel ready for the day.

She hides a yawn behind her hand as she tries to finish her breakfast in a hurry.

But she's dragging her feet, her body still sluggish from sleep and her mind not as sharp as it should be.

Swirling her spoon through the soggy cereal she sighs because she doesn't want to go to school. She doesn't want to deal with the gossip and whispers and stares from friends and strangers alike.

The sky lights up for less than a second before thunder echoes through the small town of Forks, she shivers at the thought of going out in the growing storm.

Charlie’s already left for work, a note on the fridge telling her that he’ll be late getting home and if she doesn't get up and going then she'll be late for school.

But she can't bring herself to stand from the table, to grab her coat and bag, and get in her truck.

She instead grabs the glass of water that sits to the left of the cereal and takes a sip that tastes of salt and lemon.

Her eyes close with the need to go back to bed and she waits a moment before taking another sip. She's exhausted but she knows she can't waste the day away, not when she has to come up with a plan.

Placing the cup back on the table, she grabs her bowl of cereal that looks less and less appealing and places it in the sink.

Her phone dings from its spot where she threw it on the couch, but she doesn't acknowledge the sound, she's leaning against the sink looking down at the cereal.

Her head is pounding, her stomach feels like it's in knots and there is an ache in her chest that feels like it's slowly spreading like it's wrapping around her ribcage and crawling up to her clavicle.

Another ding from her phone causes a soft sigh to leave her lips and she rolls her shoulders as she stands up straight before going to see who keeps texting her.

She stalls at the end of the couch for a second before choosing to get it over with and sits down. She lets herself sink into the cushions before she grabs her phone and checks her messages.

Turns out it was just Angela asking if she’s feeling alright because she’s been acting strange lately and if she was coming to school because the tardy bell is about to ring and she still isn't there.

Bella hums in thought because she didn't know she slept in that late, she could have sworn she had another thirty minutes before she had to leave. Oh well, guess she’s missing school.

She drops her phone back on the cushion next to her without bothering to answer and just sits on the couch taking in the silence of the house that she calls home. It’s comfortable and easy, simple.

Everything she wishes her life was, and everything that her life isn't. Simple, easy, ordinary. None of those are her and none of those describe her rollercoaster ride of a life.

A long moment goes by before she decides that she needs to get things done today, it doesn't matter that she feels like death and wants to sleep until she’s certain she’ll never feel the sting of beauty that resides in her chest again.

She grabs her phone and gets to her feet before heading up the stairs to her room, the rain sounds heavier now and she thinks it wouldn't be so terrible if it lasted all day.

The first thing she does is grab a notepad and a pen, crawls on her bed, and gets comfy because this isn't going to be five minutes and done.

This is going to take a while, and just for this, she has time.

She stares down at the blank pad of paper for a long minute, wishing the words would just come to her and flow on the page like spilt ink. But who said it was easy writing a letter to your dad about your death?

No one, that's who.

Bella knows that Charlie would do anything for her, he's the kind of person that's always helping others and hardly expecting anything in return. But she knows she can't tell him about this, this pain and love tangled together like vines.

He'd do anything for her, but she can't let him give everything for her, it's not worth it in the end. She knows what Charlie would want her to do, get the surgery, let the doctors take the seed that's planted itself on her heart. But she can't do that, not when it means forgetting. Forgetting what loving her feels like.

Her teasing smiles, her bright aurum eyes, her elegance, and confidence. The pride in her stance when she’s finished a long project on a car and it's finally done. Her whispered snarky remarks during class, her soft voice when speaking about something she loves.

Bella doesn't ever want to forget Rosalie Hale, she dreads what it would be like to look at her again but not see her the way she does now. She can’t do that.

So she has to write this letter, needs Charlie to understand why she gets to choose her death, why he can't take that away from her.

With pen to paper and the faint taste of copper on her tongue, she starts to write.