Young Writers Society

Yes, this is a Twilight fanfic. Let's just say I went through a very obsessive phase that is now dwindling. But I am semi proud of this little story, which never ended up getting written, so I left it as is. It's long for a short story I know, but it's divided into three sections. I wrote this before Breaking Dawn came out and ruined every happy thought I had about Twilight.

Darkness
I sighed as we trudged down the darkened street, the street lights illuminating patches of the roads and pavement.

“Where on earth could we possibly go now Edward?” I grumbled, shifting my bag from one shoulder to the other. “It’s been two weeks, and you’ve taken me to every single tourist attraction in Chicago.”
Edward was the one who had insisted on taking care of the honeymoon. Of course, I had no say or idea in what he was planning. Counting on being whisked somewhere exotic like Paris, you can imagine my surprise when Edward told me we were to board a plane for Chicago, his home town.

Edward looked down at me, smiling that crooked smile that I loved so much. I felt the anger melt from my bones, trying to fight the urge to kiss his perfect lips.
“I want to show you something, something that is special to me,” he whispered softly. I stared intently at his perfect features. There was something different in the way he spoke…sadness.

Edward tugged on my hand, the one which now had a small gold band plastered to it. “Through here.”
Edward pulled me through the entrance to what was a park. A shiver went up my spine as the sound of traffic slowly died down; the only sounds were the crunching of leaves under our feet in the still night. As we walked down the gravel path, I drew in my breath. It wasn’t a park we had walked into.

It was a cemetery.

“Are you okay?” Edward asked, stopping to tilt my chin up, so that I was looking at him. I nodded. “I’m okay,” I whispered. Edward continued to hold my chin, searching my eyes to make sure I was telling the truth. When he was satisfied, he sighed, letting go.
“We are almost there.”
Edward took my hand again, pulling me off the path. We trampled through the weeds that had grown up, my uncoordinated legs getting tangled in the long stems. Edward waited patiently each time, watching with a faint smile as his new bride tried to yank off the weeds.

We came to a stop in front of two tombstones close to each other. Weeds had grown around them, moss flowing through the cracks. Stems of dead flowers lay spread around the grass, whether or not from a relative or from another grave was a mystery. I stood by Edward, my hand still clasped in his has I read the first tombstone, the one on the left.



Edward’s mother. I bobbed down, peering closer at the faded writing on the tombstone. Underneath was some writing.



I felt a tear fall down my cheek. Edward was by my side in an instant. He said nothing but took my hand and wiped away the tears. I looked at the next one.



I looked at Edward. “Your father has no poem.”
Edward softly chuckled, staring at the grave. “He always hated poetry.”

“Are you okay?” I asked the question he had asked me minutes earlier. Edward nodded his head.
“After Carlisle changed me, and I went away – remember? I came back to Chicago. I used to come here almost every night and visit my parents…” he trailed off, deep in thought, no doubt.
I stood up as he did, wrapping my arms around his chest. We had planned to make tonight…the night, but all of a sudden I didn’t want to let go of my human life. Not just yet.

“Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” I had thought that we would be there for a while longer yet. Edward nodded his head. He started to move away, but stopped short in front of a tombstone, one that was only metres away from his parents.
“What is it?” I asked. I was beginning to get worried. Not only was it getting late, but Edward was acting strange. Maybe it was not a good idea to come here after all.
“Nothing – don’t worry, love. Let’s go.” Edward broke into one of his smiles again and gently pulled me away from the tombstone. I moved with him, not before catching a glimpse at the name on the tombstone:



The words missed for an eternity had been carved into the tombstone.

Silence
Edward turned around to pluck me off his back. He hadn’t said anything since we had left the cemetery. Not that he could say much running. I hadn’t said anything, the image of the tombstone kept popping into my mind. Who was Hannah Katherine Phillips? How did Edward know her? Why did he react in that way?
It frustrated me, and a pit began to form in my stomach. Why was I so worried about this girl? She was dead.

When we arrived back at the hotel, Edward was just as silent as I was. I stole quick look at his face. It was cold, with no feeling to it. A look I hadn’t seen since…the time he went away. Something tugged at my heart, a bad memory. I shut it down quickly – a memory I was forced to never remember. One that I did not want to remember. The dull light of the elevator was causing Edward’s skin to glitter slightly, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful my husband was.

But was this new beginning to our relationship rocky already?

Edward still held my hand as well walked back to our room. It was so quiet, I was sure he would be able to hear the beating of my heart. Yet he didn’t say anything as we walked into the room. Letting my hand slide out of his, he made his way to the bed, still cold and unresponsive.
I smiled softly at Edward. “I need a human moment.” I hoped that the joke would bring a smile to his lips. Edward only nodded from the bed, so I picked up my towel and headed to the bathroom.

The hot water, as usual, worked miracles on my body. I felt my tense muscles unknit themselves, the heat of the water making me sleepy. Soon enough though, my human moment was over. I dithered in the bathroom, thoroughly brushing my teeth, combing my hair. I rearranged the towels on the rack and cleaned up the beauty products that Alice had snuck into my case.

My hand hovered over the doorknob.

When I opened it, Edward was still lying on the bed, a statue carved out of stone. I went up to him, lying down beside his stone cold body.His hands automatically wound their way around my body, pulling me nearer to him. I sighed internally, relief washing over me as his lips brushed against my hair. I twisted my body around so that I was facing his beautiful face. I traced his jaw line, looking up through my eyelids. I’d seen Rosalie do it to Emmett the other day, at the wedding, and she made it seem so natural.

I, however, looked pitiful.

It was enough, however, to make Edward laugh, and he smiled for the first time in hours.
“Edward…” I trailed off, tracing my hand across his stone stomach. It was cold – not that I would mind.
“Yes Bella?” He was now playing with a piece of my hair.
“Who is Hannah Katherine Phillips?”
There was a thick, heavy silence in the air. Edward dropped the lock of hair, and it fell in front of my eyes. My heart panicked.
“Shhh Bella…” Edward was up in an instant, cradling me in his arms. I felt my stomach curl. Why wouldn’t Edward tell me?

“Who is she?” I demanded, turning to look him in the eye.I heard Edward sigh as he turned away from me.
“Please?” I whispered. Edward looked back into my eyes, and I gasped. His face was full of sadness, a sadness I had never seen before in my life. A sight that broke my heart into a million pieces. I reached up to touch his cheek. If a vampire could cry…
Edward opened his mouth to speak, hesitating.

“Hannah Katherine Phillips died because of me.”

Memories
My face didn’t hide my emotions. The colour had drained from it, shock plastered across it. Not in a hundred years could I imagine Edward, my angel, my perfect angel, killing anyone. Edward’s slate was almost as clean as Carlisle…almost. The word stuck in my throat as I thought it. Hadn’t Edward once mentioned that there was a time, a period where…
I shook my head. No, Edward would never kill anyone, not even intentionally.

“I don’t believe you,” I found myself choke the words out.
“Hannah Katherine Phillips is dead because I killed her. Her death is my fault. Because of who I am, who I was, she is dead.” Pain saturated his voice. Again I found myself thinking if vampires could cry.
“Tell me.” Edward hesitated again. I had never seen him worked up so much before, so hesitant. Usually it was I who was the tentative one.

“Remember that night in the car, when I saved you from those men?” I nodded, a shiver running down my spine at the memory. “I explained to you in the car how my mind works. How that one of the…gifts I bought into my new world was my photogenic memory. Remember?”

His eyes were dark as he stared at me, his hand nonchalantly caressing my face. He started at my jaw, working his way up as he traced. “Yes,” I whispered in reply. I was too afraid to talk in my normal tone of voice. Edward’s own voice was at his usual decibel of sound – quiet and reserved, so that I had to strain to catch every word.

“My memory – my photogenic memory – allows me to remember everything. Ever since I was eight, every image, every memory has been stored away, now a clear picture in my head. I remember the memories I want to remember – like the first day I met you, for example. I also remember the memories that I try so hard to forget, the ones that still fight their way for a place in my mind, never letting me discard them.
Hannah Phillips is one of those memories I have tried so hard to put from my mind. Why should I let her memory bother me, especially now that I have you? It’s absurd!” He shook his head.

I sat gaping at him. It was the first time I had ever heard Edward talk for such a long period of time. I knew there was a lot of angst building up inside that stone cold body of his, but not that much. I tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t. My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish several times. Edward was silent.
He wasn’t making a lot of sense, and I tried to piece it together. Somehow my Edward was responsible for the death of another, Hannah Phillips. And he had never forgotten it.

“Tell me, please Edward. I want to know what happened.” Pleading seemed like the best thing to do.
“It is a long story.”
I rolled my eyes. “Our flight to Seattle doesn’t leave until the day after next. I’ve seen enough of Chicago’s many attractions to last me an eternity. We have time.”
“Only if you want to hear it,” was Edward’s response.
I turned back around so that he was cradling me in his arms, and I leaned against his head, his chin resting lightly on top of my mass of messy brown hair. His arms tightened around me, the cold fingers running unconscientiously up and down my arm.

“For you, Bella, I will tell of the time before my life began.”

Hi!

One: Me too! OK, maybe I should clarify. Breaking Dawn totally ruined Twilight for me too. I was in love with it before I had to carefully structure my sentences around my parents when talking about it. Now, Twilight is dead to me.

But I love your piece. I wish Breaking Dawn had gone this way--so far.

Just a few nitpicks, however.

Elizabeth Masen

1883-1918

Loving wife of Edward Masen

Doting mother of Edward Anthony Masen

Edward Masen

1882-1918

Loving husband of Elizabeth Masen

Cherished father of Edward Masen

Question: Because everybody thought that Edward died, wouldn't he be buried there too? That seems like something that would stand out in Bella's mind.

“My memory – my photogenic memory – allows me to remember everything.

Do you mean photographic memory? I believe that's the right word.

I could do more nitpicks, but that's not really my style. I mostly just do things that stood out tremendously for me.

Overall, I loved this piece!

LOVE --ULTRAVIOLET

P.S. Mind PMing me for next part? (You said there were three parts, right?)