Numb But Moving

Chapter 9: Anger Hurts Less Than Pain

BPOV

            As I headed south I became ruthless; or, rather, my body, being driven by the monster, was an unforgiving, unsympathetic killer. Any vampire I came across that drank human blood, I killed. It was simple; even those that had lived for hundreds of years, all of who’s lives I could see through Aro’s gift, they were no chance for my natural skill and unnatural gifts.

            The only talent I actually used in battle was the one that was almost completely unconscious: my physical shield. I received the gift from the first vampire I had met after my transformation – besides Victoria – and had been using it for so long it just felt natural. The vampire had been intrigued by my ability to absorb his power, so interested in fact, that we had tested it. We discovered that the more he tried to use it against me, the stronger and more controlled my barrier became.

At the point I was at now, I could put my barrier up so close to my body, that even if someone has a hold of me, it will be put up between them and myself, like a second skin. Being able to expand my shield by will, I have the ability throw anyone that has actually managed to grab a hold of me, off. It’s a convenient gift and soon became instinctual in battle. Unless I try very hard, when I fight I always have my barrier up, mere millimeters from my skin, so no one can actually grab onto or damage me in any way.

            The ability is convenient for survival, especially with its lack of needed thought, but when you’re a vampire bent on trying to die in a fight, it makes things difficult. Not that I would ever just lie down and let them tear me to pieces. Even with seeking my death actively, I guess my instinctual will to live is too ingrained, so much so, that whenever I jump into fight, if I don’t actively think, my body will move and defend on its own. Ironic that I seemed to have no self-preservation as a human, yet I can’t get myself to commit assisted-suicide. I must be a masochist.

            I smiled from the back corner of my mind as I watched the young vampire run away. Just because I couldn’t actively assist others in my death, didn’t mean I couldn’t die, at least that’s what I hoped. I knew that the message was now sent, that the armies I had seen rallying together to form one massive army to stand against me would now know to prepare, and for the first time I was slightly happy. Of course there was that same distant pain, but there was also the overwhelming hope and tentative relief that it would soon be over.

            I sat next to the mini bonfire I had concocted that was giving off heavily perfumed smoke: my victory fire. I forced myself to sit, Indian style, and meditate; my body needed to cool down and relax after my fight, and I hadn’t hunted in quite some time, so relaxing my body would help get myself under control.

I was in the middle of the forest, not a human around for miles, so I didn’t have to worry about any chance of exposure, and after years of playing hide and seek, my physical barrier automatically formed around me, preventing any surprise attacks while I sit, unawares. I did wonder briefly whether to let that barrier down and hope some other vampire did come along, but my need for dramatics prevented me, I guess that was just one thing I shared in common – besides this damned existence – with Edward.

Edward. That name did amazing things to both my mind and body. I could feel the reactions of love, hurt, rejection, unworthiness, and just plain pain wash through me. I had been numb for so long I had almost forgotten what this kind of feeling was like. Almost.

My un-life had been relatively meaningless, but at least I hadn’t been in constant unchangeable pain. One would think after 70 plus years without him, numb or not, that I would have gotten over him a little, that the hole inside my chest where my heart used to be would have healed at least some, but I hadn’t, it hadn’t. I was the exact same as I had been just after he had left me, save the fact I couldn’t actually kill myself anymore, and I didn’t have anyone. No Charlie. No Renee. No Jacob.

Jacob. That name stirred a brief amount of emotion. He had stopped the gaping wound in my chest from gushing what was left of my soul out, but he had left me. I couldn’t offer him my heart and he had shunned me just like Edward had.

It’s horrible, yet almost funny, that the only memories I have of my human life are either with the Cullens or of those months after Edward had left and before Victoria had come. I now knew without a doubt that my mind was a masochist. It must be the only way to punish myself for ever thinking that I had a chance with the godlike creature named Edward, or that I could ever just remain friends and depend on the cheerful sun named Jacob.

I was wrong, I’m not the exact same as when he had left me, I now have my bitterness. I know it never made sense for him to love me – I was just a measly human. I wasn’t even that pretty, with my plain brown eyes and hair. It had never made sense.

But why then? Why, if he had never loved me, did he pretend he did? Was it just some sort of game for him that he played from town to town? No, that was wrong. I couldn’t think that, even without him ever loving me I couldn’t blame him. It was probably just a strange fascination he had had with me, the one mystery that he couldn’t solve.

I knew I couldn’t really blame Edward for anything, the small remnants of what used to be my heart wouldn’t let me, but that only made me angrier. Angrier at him, for what he had made me believe; at myself for ever thinking I could actually be with someone like him and then for being so naïve to have fallen in love with him; and at the rest of the Cullens, they had been mostly uninvolved, but a little warning would have been nice. Especially from Alice, all of her leading happily-ever-after promises and what she had called a friendship, only led to more heartbreak. All of the family, save Rosalie – who I was feeling oddly grateful to – had made me believe that I could actually join them; that I had been a part of their family, but really I had never been more than a pet.

No fuming, I was pulled out of my train of thought by a vision. My body’s lips curved, involuntarily, into a triumphant smile. The little messenger I had sent would put everything into play. It wouldn’t be long – I’d give them another day or so of preparation before I pounced. Maybe I would even warn them of that, playing a bit of a cat and mouse game.

As I stood, something felt quite different. My consciousness wasn’t tucked back into the farthest corner of my mind. Instead, I was close to the front, almost controlling everything, but I didn’t want to step forward all the way yet, I’d wait until when it really mattered to do that. My anger had pushed away or overshadowed most of my pain, it was a relief and I went with it.