For All Of My Life | C. Cullen

002

CHAPTER TWO
Destiny

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-Annabelle-

A week went by since her meeting with the mysterious Carlisle Cullen in the woods, and things just seemed to get worse for Annabelle. The next day, her father had really laid into her, yelling so loud the neighbor, Mr. Smith, came over to complain. Henry Steele kicked him out rather quickly and then went back to yelling at his daughter, who was only half listening. Though, frankly, she would rather take the simple frustration of her father yelling at her than the unrivaled, agonizing, soul-reaching pain of being away from Carlisle. It still made no sense to her, why her body was gasping for air, why her heart was hammering in her chest, cold sweat breaking along her body. It felt even worse than the night before, that feeling of death making her woozy enough that her mother sent her back to bed after her father finished his rant. She stayed there for a couple days, her mother insisting she had the flu, but Annabelle knew better. Though her throat hurt and her chest ached and she had cold sweats and chills, it wasn't the flu. It was the absence of that one mysterious man that made her this way. No matter how many times she thought of him to be just her imagination, no matter how many times she pretended as if he were just Prince Charming in her fairytales making his way into reality, she knew the truth of it.

Carlisle was real. He was a real man who had found her in the woods and helped her back to town. If he heard what she was thinking, how she was reacting to his absence, he would probably think her crazy and suggest to Henry and Gwendolyn to have her locked up in the lunatic asylum. It was one of the reasons she never spoke of him to her parents, besides the fact her father would demand she tell him everything—which would include her hiding spot in the woods—and then go searching for Carlisle to knock him around and make sure he never spoke to her again. Not that Henry would find him, but the threat was still there, and the thought of him going anywhere near Carlisle with malicious intent had her moaning in agony and gripping her feather pillow to her face as she dry heaved.

Annabelle had kept nothing down except for dry crackers and water, and she knew Gwendolyn was getting worried. Even Henry passed her glances as he walked through the hallway when Gwendolyn had the door open to check on her. But of course, she never said a word, and just let the aches and chills and death work its way through her body and soul.

"This should not be happening." Henry's voice roused her from her light slumber and she barely had enough energy to bring her head up and glance over at the doorway where her father planted himself, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. A deep frown etched into his face, he watched over his wife as she attended to their daughter. Annabelle could see that while he tried to keep up his usually tough exterior, there was worry deep in his blue eyes. While he was a hard man, he wasn't heartless and she knew he cared. And for that reason, she wished she could pick herself up and get over this, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. Carlisle was sent to her through no means of her own, and taken away the exact same way. These were simply her consequences, as foolish as she felt.

"Henry," Gwendolyn admonished softly, but the man shook his head and stepped into the room, standing behind his wife.

"No, Gwen. Look at her. She is an Immortal. Sickness does not effect us, certainly not a meager flu. Something is going on here, and I intend to find out what." He was very confident in his words and Annabelle felt some fear slide coldly through her veins. It felt as if he were trying to pry her own to get the truth out of her, as if he somehow knew about Carlisle just by looking at her, but that would be impossible. He might be an Immortal, but he wasn't a mindreader. She just had to breathe and let this...whatever this was pass and all would go back to normal.