Stella Starlet

Emotionless

Stella's Point of View

-

It had been a week after my miscarriage. 

I didn't even know I was pregnant. My first child was alive in my stomach but it wasn't anymore. 

The thought crippled me. 

I laid in bed every single day after that, I slept or cried. 

I hadn't spoken a single word either, not to Carlisle or any of his family who came to check on me. 

There was something about losing a child that made you feel like there was a hole in your chest; like something should be there but it wasn't. 

I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell, bellow, shout at something. I wanted to blame something else but I blamed myself. If I had known, God, if I had known. . .

Maybe I wouldn't have lost my child. 

I, in some impulsive decision, got out of bed in the same clothes I had been wearing and grabbed one of Carlisle's keys. 

Cristiano saw me walking out of the house and tried to run after me but I ran to the car and sped off. 

I drove along the twisty roads, along the coast, passing small markets and tourists. I went to the darker side of town and waited until I finally got what I came for.

I bought an eight ball of coke and seven tabs of Oxy. I wanted to take them all, numb the pain and guilt. 

After, I drove to a small peninsula-like park that was surrounded by the cobalt-colored water of Italy. It was empty and I got out of the park, and laid on the grass, looking up into the bright sky.

A tear leaked out of my eye and fell down the side of my face, onto the grass. I leaned up and inhaled some coke I scooped out of the small plastic bag with my nail.

The familiar rush of numbness met me and I welcomed it with open arms. I missed that feeling. The feeling of impending bliss and ecstasy; like I had something to look forward to. 

These were the only ways I could be set free; drugs and death. 

As the warmth of the drug hit me like being wrapped in a blanket, I heard a car pull up and park. 

I stayed laying, looking up at the sky in a haze.

"Stella, my love, please talk to me," Carlisle said as he laid down next to me. 

I looked at him, his beautiful, beautiful face. 

"Find someone better than me. You don't deserve all of this . . . bullshit."

"Fuck that, I love you. No way."

"Fuck!" I yelled as I dug my nails into my hand. "It's one thing after another."

-

Carlisle's Point of View

After a couple hours of talking to Stella, we had finally driven back to the estate. 

Stella went straight to the bedroom and went to lay in the bed.

I sat next to her and rubbed my thumb over her hand. 

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked whimsically, trying to lighten up the mood.

"I want to be a singer. I don't think I'll ever be though."

"Why don't you perform at one of our clubs sometime? Sing whatever you like, my love."

I wanted to do everything I could to make her happy, it killed me to see her sad. 

All of the sudden, I heard my mother yell for me downstairs. I heard shouting and I ran out of the room, my gun drawn, bullet in the chamber. 

I saw a man standing downstairs, disheveled appearance, and bloodshot eyes. As I got closer, the smell of alcohol got stronger.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked, tightening my grip on the weapon. 

"You!" He slurred. "I loved her so goddamn much and she ran back to . . . you!" He spit.

"Carter, leave." I heard a quiet voice from behind me. 

I turned and found Stella standing there, sorrow in her eyes as she looked at the drunk man.

"I loved you." He began to cry as he hastily wiped at his tears. "I risked my job, my whole life for you. And then you just ran away."

"Carter, you need to leave. I'm sorry, but please," Stella pleaded. "Please," she added, softer in tone. 

He nodded and walked out the front door, stumbling over his own feet.

"Call a car for him."

I grabbed Stella's hand and walked with her back to the bedroom. 

"So that was the guy?" I exclaimed as soon as the door shut.

She nodded and looked down in shame. 

"Jesus Christ, do you even love me? I just . . . you ran off and then found a new guy just like that."

I was angry and confused.

"What the hell are you even talking about?" She yelled as she got up from the bed. "You're actually fucking joking right?" 

"No."

"I came back, I thought I was going to get killed but I fucking came back!" She yelled. "I just lost our baby! I would have left if I didn't love you after all that happened but I'm here! I'm fucking here!" She screamed as her voice cracked in pain. Tears came dripping down her cheeks. 

"That doesn't explain the fucking drunk that just came to my fucking doorstep slurring about you! God, while I was scouring and looking everyday for you, you're fucking around with the first guy you saw."

I looked at her, emotionless. 

I couldn't be here anymore, I couldn't look at her. 

After turning around, I opened the door and slammed it shut. 

I walked out of the estate and got in my car, driving at a reckless speed down narrow roads.

Hearing the loud rev of the expensive car soothed my anger slightly but I needed more. 

I itched for blood, to hear the screams of someone in pain. 

After parking the car and walking into the clubhouse of our family, I went downstairs to where I knew they were torturing someone. 

The smell of blood and sweat filled the air and I saw familiar faces punching one guy tied to a chair. 

I shrugged off my suit jacket and turned to face the guy. I then punched his jaw with all my force.