STARDUST ✑ twilight

chapter ii ; life's but a walking shadow

[ STARDUST, VOLUME I ]
Chapter II ; Life's but a walking shadow,

❝Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
and then is heard no more;
it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.❞

Macbeth | Act 5, Scene 5
William Shakespeare

❀

BELLA WAS NEVER THIS COLD.

It was a slow process that happened away from Forks and away from me and Dad. Bella used to be fun-loving and kind. She was the first to propose some bizarre, potentially consequential idea and always the last to run into it; as the oldest and the wisest, she loved watching the rest of us fumble into danger-zone territory. Her and Jake got up to all sorts of mischief, mischief Dad loved to retell and Jake loved to relive. The mud-pies, the makeshift tire swing, the fishing trips that always ended in complaints from someone with a bluegill in their pants. I felt like I'd been there myself, that I got to witness Bella Swan's impish childhood shenanigans and Jake's slow somersault into unconditional adoration.

While the current Bella was hostile and angry, there was a form of Bella I knew years before, a different Bella from the happy-go-lucky girl of yesteryears. I became acquainted with the dreary Bella when I was twelve and she was thirteen, having come back from a one-summer hiatus of never visiting cold and miserable Forks—two years that came after our first summer together, when Bella was cheerful, brave, and humorous. He personality took a deep plunge and drowned in the waters below. Bella was suddenly quiet and wanted to read in our room all day while Jacob and I took turns climbing dangerously sky-high trees. She wore clothes that looked drained of color, talked slow and proper, and always asked when she was going home. She hated it here but never verbalized her disdain. Eventually she started begging for week-long trips to California, just to avoid perpetual rain showers and gawking townie stares. Dad left me in the care of Billy most times, claiming it was because he didn't want Bella's bad moods to rub off on me; I knew it was probably due to Bella's distaste for anything and everything Forks, including me. I was very expressive in my love for my post-adoption life in Forks, and I always had a jolly smile on my face, happy as could be in the wake of being adopted. Forks was my favorite place to be, and I'd compare it to every vacation spot, to every new nook and cranny of a temporary town. I was talkative around people I loved, so I'd chatter on and on about everything I saw, unable to hold my tongue.

I love the rain. I love the trees. I love the silence.

Bella, an Arizonian girl at heart, wanted heat, open plains, and sound. Bella would never have said it back then, but I irritated her. I irritated her so much she couldn't bear being around me for long periods of time. After a year, she had a change of heart that made her act more civil, and eventually we became good enough friends that she was no longer begging Dad to take her to California and she could share our tiny room in rainy Forks, Washington with no complaint. Today, though, she was nothing like the girl I remembered who just broke from her shell. The excitement I felt for her coming here was totally misplaced; she was a completely different person. She didn't want to be here, and I tricked myself into thinking she'd be a changed sister. I thought time and distance would have no effect on her or our friendship. That first summer, where she was a mobilized ray of sunshine, was one of my fondest memories. I wondered what happened to her.

Pig-tailed and happy. Bella before.

Veil of dark hair and gloomy. Bella now.

She wanted to go home permanently. But Renee wasn't in Arizona anymore. Bella's unfulfilled wish was something neither me or Dad could grant her.