“All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them.”
"Bella?!" Angela stares in shock at me for a moment before she tries to catch my fall. Arms outstretched like wings.
She drops her glow stick and it crashes to the ground with a loud thud. I see thick neon green gloop oozing out of the crack in the plastic. I hear a sickening crunch as my skull connects with the metal floor like they're best friends. Who designed this place, anyway? Metal floors? They should expect a hate letter. Except I won't be able to send one... space shuttle.
What Angela just told me drags me into the light of discovery. The high-tech that wouldn't be used in normal hospitals. The lack of windows. Strange garbage disposal. Even the bed boxes were starting to make sense. And the use for Paraquin. With our without will, I'm all but melded into the C21-0.
"Bella, what's wrong? Please, tell me! I think your skull..." she doesn't finish her sentence, but I feel two fingers prod the back of my head and neck. Wincing a little, I force my eyes to focus on Angela's face dying in the fading light.
"We're... space? Why? When?" I throw at her. She catches my words reflexively and almost patriotically gives me answers. Answers I desperately need. "You, me, and the rest of the crew are in space because the Cullen Project C21-0 is a space shuttle. Among many others, as I might add. We're on a ten year long journey to Titleless -T for short- where we will finally land and begin a new life on it."
"...Why?"
Angela huffs and pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "War. Land... disease."
I understand Angela's words. No matter how hard I try, how forcefully I push against it, the memories are branded into my mind and stubborn enough to stay. They assault me spasmodically and I squeeze my eyes shut to block them out. Much to my avail.
Years ago, life on earth was... peaceful. Tranquil. Like you just had a warm bath, bubbles included. You're unmoving in body and mind, but still running forward at blinding speeds, demanding new technology, knowledge, and above all, power. But, this greed stands alone compared to the reactions the asteroid created to human kind.
An asteroid tens times the size of Mars had just barely clipped the edge of earth's moon, sending it on it merry way... -spiraling straight down to home at a dangerous proximity. Now, as we all know- the moon concocts ocean waves. With the moon so close to earth, the waves doubled, tripled, quadrupled until they overcame us. Entire countries were submerged in water, and people scattered higher into the mountains to escape it and breathe now-precious oxygen. Crops and pasture animals drowned, and finally choked the life out of us. Disease spreads like wildfire to a parched forest. That's when it gets really ugly.
My mind is muddled, memories don't last forever, no matter how drastic, but I force myself to battle through the barrier with pounding fists. This is my mind. I will conquer it. Even if the memories hurt like a thousand knifes stabbing into my brain.
"What's the year?" I say. My brain is having troubles fathoming the ten year long journey I supposedly slept through. I also need... what? Confirmation? Closure? I don't know.
"2047." Angela tells me as she hold out her hand and I take it, huffing up from the cold, hard floor.
So thirteen years ago, the earth died, along with my sister. And so did Renee. On the inside, anyway. After my sister Bree's death, Renee couldn't bear the guilt she threw on herself in heavy sheets. Renee was always on the verge of being Bipolar -it runs in the family- but it was never as bad after my beloved Bree passed from this world. My mother used to be so lovely, the perfect mother and as wondrous as you could imagine. After school, she'd bake me cookies and make up stories about her day. One of them I remember was how she had been on her way to work and a huge sea monster spluttered out of a sewage drain and nearly ate her car. Her eyes were the most alive and bright when she told her stories to Bree and I, it's when I loved her most. Another had been about her meeting a mysterious man who could run as fast as a train at full speed, who sparkled and glittered in the sunlight like diamonds, and could even hear your heartbeat. I've always liked that story best.
Renee had reminded me every night to brush my teeth, only to slip me a piping hot mug of cocoa before bedtime, much to Charlie's dismay. I almost chuckle at the thought, but I know I can't. Not after what she did. What she let other people do to me.
Bree had always been the favorite child. Still is. Even in death, Renee loved her more. We had to pry her fingers away from my sister's cold hand to lower the coffin into the hillside on the dreadful, rainy Sunday morning.
We had mass burials then.
Bree had died of the one disease that unleashed itself across the world, murdering many with icy fingers. It was slow, painful, and you're awake through it all. It surprises even the doctors that Bree was able to last so long- three months. On average, the disease takes you in three days. It was the spirit, the life in her that I think kept my little Bree going as long as she did.
A silent tear rolls down my cheek as I re-live pain. So much pain for thirteen years it really feels a lifetime. I remember on my worst days with Renee, when I'm cowering in a corners, writhing with pain in my mind and soul when I wished that my life would end. Show over. Curtains closed. The un-applauding audience grabbing their coats to leave my pathetic show.
I'm following Angela into the dark inaudibly, minding to myself. She doesn't notice me. No one did. On the day following Bree's funeral, Renee's depression stole the best of her, and she went insane. She cried herself to sleep at night, imagined Bree's presense in the morning. Having one-way conversations with her. Speaking Bree's part as well as her own. She even made extra food for her. A bowl filled to the brim with cereal, accompanied by an empty seat. Charlie finally admitted her into a mental hospital, which unsurprisingly had almost too many patients. Yes- even in apocalyptic mayhem, the ward lived on. Renee stayed there for three years, me visiting her every month, until she was released and confirmed sane by five doctors.
Renee then shifted from neglect, to abuse. It didn't take long before Charlie couldn't stand the sight of either of us. He left the family for a small, rainy town up in the mountains. I begged to go with him, and he never said a single word to me. Even when I clung to his leg as he walked out of our drafty apartment, carrying everything he owned, he shook me off and slammed the door in my face.
My memory is irrevacobly foggy at this point. I remember going to a hospital once, a few weeks after Charlie left, probably from a serious injury inflicted by Renee, who said I tripped down a flight of stairs into a window. I am clumsy, and the doctor's brushed it off. I don't recall ever leaving the hospital, just suddenly popping back into hell with Renee, with no escape. Either I'd been looney on the drugs the doctors prescribed, or that's when... I went to sleep.
"Bella."
I blink and thank Angela inwardly for breaking my revere. I didn't want to dwell on the past anymore. It's over and done with and I'm here now. Away from Renee's abuse. Phil's rape. Humanity's neglect, death, and disease. At least here, the scariest thing is the dark. I jog a few steps and bump into Angela, who obviously called for me because I was lacking behind, and she couldn't feel my presence anymore. "I'm real sorry, Ang, I was, er, zoning out a bit back there." I clutch onto the crook of her elbow. We're exceptionally close to another pinpoint of light, now. I can make out two figures crouching down in the dim light of their glowstick. I watch as one of them shifts, and suddenly the light is brighter. They light another glowstick. Which means they have more.
Angela and I walk briskly to them, growing in size to full forms of humans. There is a midnight haired man with murky green eyes, staring into the almost-burning light of the glowstick. It's set in between the two people like a campfire. He seems to be in his forties. The next creature is beautiful. Angelic, yet adult in her features. She looks to be about twenty-something, with her blond waves of hair spiraling down into an elegant twist at the nape of her neck, with her naturalness highlights, high cheekbones, small, full lips, and icy gray eyes, fixated on the light.
Angela clears her throat, but neither of them look up. She clears it again and speaks. "Aro," she nods to the midnight haired man, "Jane," she cuts her gaze to the child-like blonde woman. Their heads snap up in our direction, Aro's eyes soft and inviting, Jane's glare piercing my soul. I instinctively flinch back from her gaze, absolutely terrified. The young woman who seemed so harmless, so extraordinary, turns into an ugly, deadly snake. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Angela waves me over and introduces me to them. "Aro, Jane," she repeats, "this is Bella Swan. She's a Subject."
Aro's eyes alight with new interest. "Is she, now? Well, you're up early." He cocks his head to the side and raises his brow.
"So I hear..." I mumble.
He barks out a raspy laugh, hand on his head. "Ha! There's something... wrong about you."
I feel my brow furrow with confusion, and I'm about to broach the subject when Angela interrupts.
"Do you have an extra light?"
Aro stops laughing and points to a petite plastic box nestled beside him. Angela walks over, opens the box, and takes a glowstick. She snaps it together in her hands and it crackles to life, slowly but surely, filling the hallway with double the light. "Thank you." she tells Aro, and comes back to me.
"Bye now." Janes seethes, and I turn on my heels and resist the urge to run down the hallway like a little bitch. Her voice got the best of me, clawing at scabbing wounds. She sounded like Renee.
Angela quickly takes my hand and leads me down the hallway. "Sorry about that, Bella. They're doctors here, although I don't think they should be. Those two are really quite nuts."
"Are they? I thought that Aro guy was...nice enough." Yah, compared to the sadistic blondie.
"I guess you're right, but that Jane on the other hand..." she shivers. Wow. If this so called Jane is scary enough to make Angela shiver, I should be quarantined.
"She's different." I mutter, not wanting to go on with the subject, so I start a new one.
"What's a Subject?" I ask, stopping Angela in her tracks. She slowly turns and faces me.
"I know you don't remember, Bella, it's written all over your face. As strange as that is, it's not my story to tell, it's yours. In whatever way you became a Subject is completely your doing, more or less."
"So I have to remember?" I ask. Ang nods. I search through my brain, and come back empty handed. There's no way I can break through a fog that thick. Every time I think about what happened directly after arriving at the hospital, there's a blank expanse of white. I shake my head, telling Ang I simply can't remember. She sighs, and takes my hand again, leading me aimlessly.
"Where are we going?"
"No where." Angela answers, "Just wondering. Any place you want to go?"
Now that I think of it, I do actually need to go somewhere. Alice. "Is Alice still with Jasper?"
"I'm sure she is. I heard about him... very sad..." Ang's eyes prick with tears, and I wonder what kind of connection she has with Jasper Hale. "I can take you to them, I saw his room number in the morning report. I'm a nurse here."
A nurse seems a suiting job for Angela. She's caring, and quiet. Out of the way, but will come to your aid as soon as you need it. I really like Angela, she's a friend I want long-term. My second friend, ever, besides when I was a kid, which doesn't count.
"Please,"
Angela leads me down endless hallway after hallway, and I'm so glad the Cullen Project C21-0 has no windows. If I looked out of them and saw nothing but space I'd surely freak out and never move again, right there on the floor. But I keep my cool. "Here it is." Angela points to a door, streaming light down into the hall out of the window set in the door. I tap timidly on it. Am I right for coming back? Was Alice worrying about me at all? I do and don't hope so.
The door clinks, and then opens to reveal Dr. Carlisle. He looks very tired. Dark circles under his eyes. His hair in an utter amount of disarray from running a hand through it so much. Thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation. The blue eyes in his skull are dull, not bright and full of life like they usually are. I clear my throat dryly.
"Um, hello, doctor Carlisle, I was, er, checking on Alice." He nods and tries to smooth out his features, trying to keep up with the unemotional-doctor facade. He waves me and Angela into the room.
"Come in, come in. Alice has been worried sick about you, Bella. Angela, welcome."
Angela nods and follows me through the door. The medical room is the same as I've left it before, except now it's bathed in a haunting green light, causing everyone's faces to get a doggedly tired and endearing quality. Or it could just be me. Emmett and Rosalie are still wrapped around each other against the far wall, Esme and Alice are at Jasper's side, who's covered in a slick sheen of sweat, coughing. Cope sits quietly in a corner, Edward is glued to his loveseat we shared. I carefully walk over to the loveseat as quietly as I could manage, tripping over my own feet as usual, I land next to Edward, who slides to make room for me. It's hard, what with his lengthy frame, but I'm seated comfortably. Angela heads over and sits on the floor in front of my feet.
Every soul in the room is dead-silent. Not one word is spoken. They all hold their breath, anticipating something. I close my eyes -not sleeping, of course, not ever- relaxing a little. I steal glances at Edward, and I catch him staring right back at me occasionally. I blush, duck my head to hide my face, and twidle my thumbs. Hours seems to pass before Jasper's starts an erratic fit of coughing. Alice starts to wail and dabs his mouth with a hankerchief, it returns maroon and begging for more. Carlisle sprints over and pours a small vile of clear, crisp liquid into Jasper's mouth. Carlisle casts a look of fear towards his son-in-law. Jasper swallows most of it, and Alice takes the excess away with the end of her sleeve.
After a while, things are calming down, and I can't take Edward's penetrating gaze any longer. I break the silence and speak to Angela, more to save myself than her, even though I know she's hurting from the cold tile floor.
"Switch spots with me?"
She nods enthusiastically and hops up, knees cracking. I feel insensitive for not offering it to her earlier, and plop my ass down by her feet. I sense Edward's eyes on my back the whole way, but I pretend not to notice. Time continues on, slowly but surely, until I'm practically falling over from boredom. I don't dare leave though, for fear of them resenting me for it, calling me out on my weakness.
Then, finally, finally, the lights up ahead start to flicker and sputter out, only to come back again, like strobe likes. All heads snap up in it's direction, their breath hitching. I watch too, fascinated by the lights quick movements. They flicker for what seems like eternity, before is smooths over into a constant flow. Every chest in the room breathes a sigh of relief. There's a miniscule beeping noise coming from Jasper now that wasn't there before. I whip my head around to see that Jasper has been hooked up to a big machine, with flashing lights and beep noises, the whole lot. It looks very expensive. Rosalie asks the question I've been itching to hear. I love her for it, because I'd never have the guts to do it myself.
"How long was the power out." It's not a question, because Rosalie knows she'll be answered. Carlisle relectently pulls a handheld from his back pocket, searching for the time. His breath hitches and everybody freezes in place, even me.
"Seven hours, forty-two minutes."
Rosalie, Cope, and Esme stare at Dr. Cullen with disbelief. Emmett melts away from Rose's side and is streaming curses at the top of his lungs. "Shit! Shit shit shit!"
"Fuck!" Emmett fist pounds the wall, and I watch in wonder at his hand comes back littered with tile and drywall. Edward springs from the couch, barely scimming my head and is cursing along with Emmett in clear rage. I've never seen him so angry, so open with his emotions. Where's the calm and collected doctor I ran into the other day? Who so nicely gave me clothes and showed me my room when Alice wasn't able? I wouldn't be shocked if Edward was part animal, he's so obsessed with rage.
"What's going on?!" I shout at the top of my lungs. They ice over and twist their faces to stare at me. Shit. Me and my huge mouth. At least they're quiet...
"The power," Carlisle clears his throat dryly before he can continue, "was out... longer than we thought." He casts a nervous glance at his son-in-law, who is now concious and trying to comfort Alice with a shaking hand through her spiky hair. I wait for more of an explanation, and Carlisle stalls, seeming to collect himself. "All the extra energy pods we have are most likely almost used up on the Subjects now, to keep the sleep units going... which means-"
Edward inturpts his step-father, cutting him off in a cold, almost robotic voice. "If the power goes out again, Jasper's life support will fail." I look at the strange machine hooked in Jasper with new eyes. That machine there is Jasper's lifeline. Jasper's disease dawns on me. The very one that took her with icy fingers, proded and crushed her chest to squeeze the life out of her. Steal her heartbeats. Jasper had the sickness that murdered Bree out of my life. I stare at Edward with horror as people cheer outside of the Cullen's tense bubble. "The lights are back!" If only they knew somebody's life was connected to those very lights...
I don't think they'd be cheering.
End of Chapter Seven.
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