Humanity - Edward Cullen

Four

TW: PTSD AND GORE

The next morning is a sight to behold. Maria wakes up early, at around six a.m., after having a nightmare. She doesn't usually have nightmares, not anymore, but as today is the anniversary of the near-fatal car collision she was in when she was twelve, so it is only natural that the memories are reappearing in her brain.

After she calms herself down from the horrors of her memories, she stumbles out of bed, and her exposed legs are met with a chilling breeze. She shudders, quickly grabbing an oversized sweatshirt from a pile of clothes on the floor. She's a little shocked by the freezing temperature of the room because, despite the cold weather in Forks, it has never been this chilly inside the house. She rushes to the window, gazing out at the forest with wide, sparkling eyes. The floor is covered in a layer of snow, and all of the rain that fell after the snow yesterday has frozen over. The needles on the trees are coated in fantastic, icy patterns, and the driveway appears to be glittering.

"Bella!" She beams, running over to her sister's bed and shaking her awake with childlike excitement. "Wake up!"

"What? Are you okay?" Bella asks as she stretches her arms and struggles to open her eyes.

"Come and look!" Maria practically drags the poor brunette out of bed and over to the window. Bella groggily wipes her eyes and squints at the snow-covered scene before her. "It snowed!"

"Oh great," Bella huffs, frowning as she takes in the dangers of the landscapes outside.

"How can you be annoyed? It's so pretty! The driveway looks sparkly," Maria asks, puzzled by her sister's lack of excitement.

"Ice is not exciting for the uncoordinated," Bella mumbles as she leaves the window and pulls on a robe to keep her warm. Maria continues to stare out in awe, a wide smile on her face. "And snow is cold and wet, and it's just so uncomfortable. I miss the sunshine and the heat."

"I thought I would too, but I think the cold is growing on me," Maria says absentmindedly, still analysing the patterns in the ice on the trees. "It's so much prettier than all the dead grass in hot weather..."

"It's not pretty when it soaks through your shoes," Bella scoffs and heads downstairs to get breakfast. Maria sits back on her bed, hiding her legs under the quilt and picking up Wuthering Heights, which they have been assigned to read for their English class. She's never read it before. Bella has loads of times, but Maria has never been interested in it before now.

"Maria, do you want breakfast?" Bella shouts up the stairs to her.

"No, thanks, I'm going out for breakfast," Maria answers, and Bella furrows her eyebrows as she pours herself a bowl of cereal.

"What do you mean you're going out?"

"Well, I'm not going in today. You haven't forgotten, have you?" Maria doesn't have very many traditions. Of course, she celebrates traditional holidays with her family, and they have their own ways of celebrating together, but other than that, she likes to play every day by ear. She finds life is more enjoyable that way. It leaves more time for her to do something more exciting or thrilling than just sticking to the same routine day in and day out. However, there is one day every year when Maria does the same thing, without fail. On the anniversary of her near-fatal experience, the one that flipped her outlook on life around, Maria takes the day off from whatever she is meant to be doing. Whether it be school or work, meeting with friends or seeing her family, Maria will cancel her plans and do whatever she feels like on that day, alone. Originally, the year after the accident, Maria had just taken the day off of school because she was feeling terribly anxious about the whole ordeal, and her doctor suggested that the day off would be good for her. Apparently, her heightened nerves around the date of the accident every year is known as the 'anniversary effect' - something that people with post-traumatic stress disorder struggle with quite a lot. Her anxiety around the event is a lot less prominent now, showing up as nightmares or flickering moments of panic rather than manifesting for days on end as panic attacks or flashbacks. So, taking the day off now is more of a reminder of the importance of living her life to the fullest every day. It helps to remind her of the person she wants to be, and most importantly, it reminds her to look both ways before she crosses the street.