In Dire Need of Cessation

Thirty

Peculiarly, her skeleton reminded me very much of a glazed donut, where the icing would drip and slip down the Krispy Kreme, and shine whenever they could catch a glimpse of the Walmart florescent lights. One of the many differences between Bella's foundations and donuts, was besides from Bella not being edible (insert very inappropriate thoughts) and not round, her bones illuminated under the office lights, where the light reflected off the glazing of holy water.

Every square inch was glossed with a thin coat of holy water and all that was needing to be experimented with now, was if it would actually work, (I would be shamelessly enraged if this had all been a waste of time, and I had spent my last moments with Bella, digging her corpse) and sadly, unfortunately, regretfully, there was only one way to test it.

While I swung around to crouch before Bella, I caught the sight of a very meaningful set of utensils that were as vital as an implant. The family had together congregated enough venom to fill twelve syringes, which would later be inserted into my Bella, like sodium pentobarbital (euthanasia is hardly a comparison!) (she and the patients all give consent)(they all share the similarity to want an end to this life) being embed into an animal. The only donor who hadn't supplied their offer of venom was me, who had been so wrapped and consumed by Bella's well-being that I hadn't had the time. I would cater my contribution as Bella was transitioning into a human, and my goodness, I had much to give! Every second I felt as though I was gulping liters of venom back, which would only reappear as my nerves and fear aroused further.

"Ready, love?" I asked, my voice hoarse, tempting me to cough yet I knew full well there would be no difference.

She only managed a mere groan while opening her eyes and looking into mine. It was the sort of expression that would convince me to buy soup, warm it up, and serve it to her as she was enveloped in a duvet, suffering from a cold. However, this was hardly a human infection, (not even coming close to man flu, either) as this was quite literally a life-or-death situation.

Like a normal teenager on a Monday morning, a patient after surgery, a human after a plane journey, Bella sat up drowsily and prepared to stand. Every atom that formed my body was screaming at me to aid and support her, but all I would be able to do was speak comfort, and I was sure Bella couldn't hear my voice anyway. From her reactions, I could tell it was like (drowning) swimming underwater- peaceful yet disturbingly quiet.

Using me as an anchor for her focus and motivation, she shakily rose to a stand, like a toddler learning to walk. The family watched as I swerved around the coffee table and Bella teetered through it, closing the short distance between her and the table, like a lost boat and a lighthouse. No one dared to speak, including Mother Nature, who silenced her howls of wind, her tears of rain, and outbursts of thunder.

She stood before it, me by her side, the moon flaring its support, and my family preparing themselves to leave the room for privacy if needed. They were merely here for support, to show Bella how united we all were.

Her eyes met mine, once last time before everything would be different. Innocent, scared, tired eyes. "I'll be here," I promised, "no matter what." I didn't know if outside, right this second, her friends were organizing another ritual to perform, in which would prevent any progress of this transformation. They could have been murdering another seventeen women, for all we knew, and thus, with one glance at the window from Bella's part, she dipped the tips of her fingers into the metacarpals of her physical form.

Instantly, suddenly, horrifically (EDWARD WHY DID YOU LET HER DO IT?!) her whole arm was yanked forward, like (the pull of death) an electric magnet. Bella's bones- more specifically, the holy water- snatched her away, looking as if her soul was being digested. She was being consumed whole.