Lost Souls
by Laura Spudzmom
Chapter 02
Bella's eyes widened as she backed away, not quite believing what she was seeing. She turned and ran from the room, not even pausing to close the door. Didn't seem to do any good anyway as whoever, or whatever that was could obviously open them at will.
At this moment, she needed some distance and this is what she gained as she practically flew down the stairs, heedless of her usual clumsiness in her pursuit of getting the hell away from 'that' room, 'that' presence.
When she finally stopped running, she realized she was in the kitchen, her breaths coming in panicked huffs as her heart continued to race. She knew that she needed to calm herself or she was going to be in for a full-blown panic attack and she hadn't suffered one of those since the night of Charlie's death.
With shaking hands, she reached into the cabinet and grabbed a glass, moving then to the freezer to grab the bottle of Grey Goose she'd placed there earlier in the day.
She held on to the chilled bottle, closing her eyes as she made a conscious effort to slow her breathing and still her trembling hands before attempting to pour a shot of the stuff.
Finally feeling sufficiently calmed to be able to function, she opened the bottle, pouring the glass half full. She was out to calm and relax herself, not get trashed and she hadn't had a thing to eat yet.
Attempting to replace the lid on the bottle, she cursed as her fingers refused to cooperate. She was still shaking too badly to get it done so she tossed the lid back down and took up the glass, knocking back half of the contents in one go.
"Oh fuck", she wheezed as the liquid scorched its way down her throat.
She kept the stuff around for cases such as this one in order to keep the panic away, but the attacks had been so rare that she wasn't used to it any longer.
There had been a time, after Edward's departure, that she had used her crutch quite often, but only as a means to relax and not something to drown her sorrows.
Shockingly, Charlie had been very understanding, but in a cautiously observant way; ready to step in the minute he saw a potential problem forming, which it never had. The more she'd healed from her emotional wounds, the less she had experienced the attacks and eventually, the bottle of Goose had maintained a lonely existence in the freezer.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she took another swallow, this time enjoying the pleasant warmth of it as it spread through her.
Reaching for the lid, she replaced it on the bottle which she stuck back in the freezer. While she was in there, she grabbed a frozen meal. She needed to eat as she thought that was probably half her problem with being able to cope with what had just happened.
As she prepared the tray for the microwave, her thoughts went back to that room, the book, and the presence.
She stuck the tray in the microwave, punched the buttons and leaned against the counter to wait.
Just what the hell was she going to do if it continued to fuck with her life here? Could she eventually ignore it? Would it even allow her to, or would it escalate things as she tried?
She shrugged a shoulder as she took another drink.
Only time would tell, because, as she stood thinking about it, that's exactly what she resolved to do; ignore it. There was just no way she saw herself getting involved in the things her great-aunt had obviously been deeply involved in. She wasn't a witch, for fucks sake!
She scoffed, a scowl overtaking her features as she knocked back the remainder of her drink, feeling suddenly very brave and defiant.
She damn well wasn't gonna be a witch either. Casper could just fuck right off.
The beeping of the microwave brought her back from her musings and she turned and opened the door, grabbing the edge of the tray and sliding it onto a plate.
Sitting down at the small table in the kitchen, she stared down at the food in the tray that was supposed to resemble lasagna, poking at it with a fork. "This shit never looks like the picture on the package", she mumbled with a sigh before shrugging and taking a bite. It still tasted half-way decent and it filled her stomach, which was all she really cared about at this point.
When she'd eaten about half her food she rose and rinsed out her glass, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and filling it before taking a drink and sitting back down to finish eating.
The sound of water splashing onto the floor caught her attention and she turned to see the bottle she'd left on the counter overturned, its contents pooling in a puddle on the floor.
She glared at it a moment. "So, that's how it's gonna be eh, Casper? Jesus, where are the ghostbusters when you need 'em?" She glared all around the kitchen. "You're damn lucky I can't see you or I'd be rubbing your nose in that, you ass. You think water is gonna scare me? I've been stalked by a vampire out to kill me, so all your little tricks are gonna do is piss me off."
The only response to that was the tipped over bottle rolling the rest of the way off the counter where it bounced on the floor, splashing the puddle to a wider area.
"Fine" she grumbled, turning back to finish her questionable meal with an irritated shrug. When she finished, she rose and tossed the tray in the trash before ripping off several paper towels to clean up the puddled water.
As she bent down to clean up the mess, the door to the trashcan cupboard slammed shut, and she froze for a moment, eyeing it with disdain. Gathering the wet towels, rising and throwing them away, she frowned as she shut the cupboard once again, resentment filling her.
"Look, why can't you just leave me alone? I've dealt with a lot of crap in my life, ya know? Crap that would break a normal person and I'm tired of it. I just want to live my life in peace, okay?" She swiped angrily at a tear. "Please, just find someone else to help you. I can't do this…"
She spent the rest of the day either on the phone, ordering the things she needed—like firewood—or cleaning, not that anything was overly dirty, but everything needed a good dusting and she vacuumed and mopped. Admittedly, it was mostly busy work, but it served to keep her occupied and also helped to tire her out so that she'd hopefully sleep decently.
Trudging upstairs after a quick sandwich for dinner, she ignored the door to 'that' room as it creaked open when she entered the hallway.
"Nice try," she mumbled as she entered her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a tired sigh.
Leaning against her closed door, she jumped at the sound of what she was sure was 'that' door down the hall slamming shut, her heart picking up speed at the sound of footsteps drawing close and then passing by in the hall.
Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she gathered her courage and peeked out into the hall, hoping like hell she wouldn't see anyone or anything.
Sure enough, there was nothing there in the low light she had left on. She was alone… sort of.
Closing her door and turning the lock with shaking fingers, she had to admit that this was still freaking her out, no matter how brave she tried to act. When giving it thought, she almost preferred the damn vampire being after her. At least that was a tangible being; something that she could face, get help with and be protected from. This was… well, she wasn't quite sure what the hell this was or how she felt about it, but it was obvious to her that whatever it was didn't want to take 'no' for an answer.
As far as getting any help, well… she scoffed as she made her way to the bathroom to ready herself for bed. Just who the hell was going to believe her? She may as well buy twenty cats and knit her own awful sweaters so she'd fit the "crazy lady" label that she'd be stamped with the minute she mentioned this to anyone, even Jake.
Especially Jake; he'd thought her self-isolationism had been the first step to cracking up completely and hadn't left her alone about it, constantly trying to drag her out of the house when she'd still been in Forks. No, Jake was definitely not an option.
Spitting toothpaste in the sink and rinsing, she considered her options. She could research and try to find a way to drive out this thing—entity—dead person that obviously didn't want to be dead. Drying her hands on a towel, she made up her mind. That's exactly what she would do; find a way to send him/her/it on their ghostly way.
She'd also get a dog; a very big dog.
Flipping off the light, she hopped into bed and drew the covers over herself with a shiver, hoping that her unseen companion would leave her in peace for the rest of the night. With that last thought, she slipped into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of bloodthirsty vampires, wolves and now ghostly terrors.
Bella's eyes widened as she backed away, not quite believing what she was seeing. She turned and ran from the room, not even pausing to close the door. Didn't seem to do any good anyway as whoever, or whatever that was could obviously open them at will.
At this moment, she needed some distance and this is what she gained as she practically flew down the stairs, heedless of her usual clumsiness in her pursuit of getting the hell away from 'that' room, 'that' presence.
When she finally stopped running, she realized she was in the kitchen, her breaths coming in panicked huffs as her heart continued to race. She knew that she needed to calm herself or she was going to be in for a full-blown panic attack and she hadn't suffered one of those since the night of Charlie's death.
With shaking hands, she reached into the cabinet and grabbed a glass, moving then to the freezer to grab the bottle of Grey Goose she'd placed there earlier in the day.
She held on to the chilled bottle, closing her eyes as she made a conscious effort to slow her breathing and still her trembling hands before attempting to pour a shot of the stuff.
Finally feeling sufficiently calmed to be able to function, she opened the bottle, pouring the glass half full. She was out to calm and relax herself, not get trashed and she hadn't had a thing to eat yet.
Attempting to replace the lid on the bottle, she cursed as her fingers refused to cooperate. She was still shaking too badly to get it done so she tossed the lid back down and took up the glass, knocking back half of the contents in one go.
"Oh fuck", she wheezed as the liquid scorched its way down her throat.
She kept the stuff around for cases such as this one in order to keep the panic away, but the attacks had been so rare that she wasn't used to it any longer.
There had been a time, after Edward's departure, that she had used her crutch quite often, but only as a means to relax and not something to drown her sorrows.
Shockingly, Charlie had been very understanding, but in a cautiously observant way; ready to step in the minute he saw a potential problem forming, which it never had. The more she'd healed from her emotional wounds, the less she had experienced the attacks and eventually, the bottle of Goose had maintained a lonely existence in the freezer.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she took another swallow, this time enjoying the pleasant warmth of it as it spread through her.
Reaching for the lid, she replaced it on the bottle which she stuck back in the freezer. While she was in there, she grabbed a frozen meal. She needed to eat as she thought that was probably half her problem with being able to cope with what had just happened.
As she prepared the tray for the microwave, her thoughts went back to that room, the book, and the presence.
She stuck the tray in the microwave, punched the buttons and leaned against the counter to wait.
Just what the hell was she going to do if it continued to fuck with her life here? Could she eventually ignore it? Would it even allow her to, or would it escalate things as she tried?
She shrugged a shoulder as she took another drink.
Only time would tell, because, as she stood thinking about it, that's exactly what she resolved to do; ignore it. There was just no way she saw herself getting involved in the things her great-aunt had obviously been deeply involved in. She wasn't a witch, for fucks sake!
She scoffed, a scowl overtaking her features as she knocked back the remainder of her drink, feeling suddenly very brave and defiant.
She damn well wasn't gonna be a witch either. Casper could just fuck right off.
The beeping of the microwave brought her back from her musings and she turned and opened the door, grabbing the edge of the tray and sliding it onto a plate.
Sitting down at the small table in the kitchen, she stared down at the food in the tray that was supposed to resemble lasagna, poking at it with a fork. "This shit never looks like the picture on the package", she mumbled with a sigh before shrugging and taking a bite. It still tasted half-way decent and it filled her stomach, which was all she really cared about at this point.
When she'd eaten about half her food she rose and rinsed out her glass, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and filling it before taking a drink and sitting back down to finish eating.
The sound of water splashing onto the floor caught her attention and she turned to see the bottle she'd left on the counter overturned, its contents pooling in a puddle on the floor.
She glared at it a moment. "So, that's how it's gonna be eh, Casper? Jesus, where are the ghostbusters when you need 'em?" She glared all around the kitchen. "You're damn lucky I can't see you or I'd be rubbing your nose in that, you ass. You think water is gonna scare me? I've been stalked by a vampire out to kill me, so all your little tricks are gonna do is piss me off."
The only response to that was the tipped over bottle rolling the rest of the way off the counter where it bounced on the floor, splashing the puddle to a wider area.
"Fine" she grumbled, turning back to finish her questionable meal with an irritated shrug. When she finished, she rose and tossed the tray in the trash before ripping off several paper towels to clean up the puddled water.
As she bent down to clean up the mess, the door to the trashcan cupboard slammed shut, and she froze for a moment, eyeing it with disdain. Gathering the wet towels, rising and throwing them away, she frowned as she shut the cupboard once again, resentment filling her.
"Look, why can't you just leave me alone? I've dealt with a lot of crap in my life, ya know? Crap that would break a normal person and I'm tired of it. I just want to live my life in peace, okay?" She swiped angrily at a tear. "Please, just find someone else to help you. I can't do this…"
She spent the rest of the day either on the phone, ordering the things she needed—like firewood—or cleaning, not that anything was overly dirty, but everything needed a good dusting and she vacuumed and mopped. Admittedly, it was mostly busy work, but it served to keep her occupied and also helped to tire her out so that she'd hopefully sleep decently.
Trudging upstairs after a quick sandwich for dinner, she ignored the door to 'that' room as it creaked open when she entered the hallway.
"Nice try," she mumbled as she entered her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a tired sigh.
Leaning against her closed door, she jumped at the sound of what she was sure was 'that' door down the hall slamming shut, her heart picking up speed at the sound of footsteps drawing close and then passing by in the hall.
Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she gathered her courage and peeked out into the hall, hoping like hell she wouldn't see anyone or anything.
Sure enough, there was nothing there in the low light she had left on. She was alone… sort of.
Closing her door and turning the lock with shaking fingers, she had to admit that this was still freaking her out, no matter how brave she tried to act. When giving it thought, she almost preferred the damn vampire being after her. At least that was a tangible being; something that she could face, get help with and be protected from. This was… well, she wasn't quite sure what the hell this was or how she felt about it, but it was obvious to her that whatever it was didn't want to take 'no' for an answer.
As far as getting any help, well… she scoffed as she made her way to the bathroom to ready herself for bed. Just who the hell was going to believe her? She may as well buy twenty cats and knit her own awful sweaters so she'd fit the "crazy lady" label that she'd be stamped with the minute she mentioned this to anyone, even Jake.
Especially Jake; he'd thought her self-isolationism had been the first step to cracking up completely and hadn't left her alone about it, constantly trying to drag her out of the house when she'd still been in Forks. No, Jake was definitely not an option.
Spitting toothpaste in the sink and rinsing, she considered her options. She could research and try to find a way to drive out this thing—entity—dead person that obviously didn't want to be dead. Drying her hands on a towel, she made up her mind. That's exactly what she would do; find a way to send him/her/it on their ghostly way.
She'd also get a dog; a very big dog.
Flipping off the light, she hopped into bed and drew the covers over herself with a shiver, hoping that her unseen companion would leave her in peace for the rest of the night. With that last thought, she slipped into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of bloodthirsty vampires, wolves and now ghostly terrors.
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.