Creep
Standalone.
When you were here before, I couldn’t look you in the eyes...
The wind moaned in the distance, matching the brick lodged in my chest perfectly. Over my downcast head, a cluster of metallic rain clouds inched towards the sun. The leaves no longer made a sound as my too big feet crunched over them. My breath was ragged, harsh. Burrowed deep inside of my body, the beast was beginning to rage. I clicked my tongue as my blood began to boil, popping and bursting in crimson bubbles inside the veins. Beneath the safe fabric of my jean pocket, my fingers clawed at themselves. My legs tore through the mossy ground, staining my already tight sneakers green.
Her face flashed again in my mind. Her lips, the shade of delicate pink roses, turned into a sad smile. Her hands were entwined with it’s twin. I couldn’t help but to keep a firm bite on my bottom lip and hope to God that she wasn’t with Cullen, while I was out running like the madman I was. It was hard enough having to think of her day and damn night, but to know that the leech was able to actually look at her made my blood boil. Angrily, I catapulted a stray rock into the horizon before me, shattering the phantom of Bella Swan.
“Jake,” It started, innocently enough. Clutching a purse, her hair tied in knots, was love in the almost literal flesh. Standing on a doorway that she hadn’t graced for moths. My heart threatened to make a hole through my ribcage as she pronounced each syllable perfectly. “I-I wanted to invite you to something.” I nodded gently, watching as her slender fingers dug through her large bag, her brow furrowed in concentration. And then she gave to me.
An invitation. A wedding invitation, to be completely exact.
I didn’t bother to read it. I didn’t bother to tell her to leave, or to mention on how the ends of my heart were splintering away into a million pieces. I didn’t even bother to turn around and catch a glimpse of the fragile tears running down the creamy porcelain of her skin. All could recognize were the animalistic urges surfacing, and the salty water burning the rims of my dark eyes.
You're just like an angel, Your skin makes me cry.
And then I ran. I didn’t care where the hell I was going, I just knew I had to go somewhere. Passing trees and boulders, celery colored grass and the occasional stray. My mind, a usual junkyard, was almost clear. With each rhythm my heart pulsed, with each leap my legs took, I saw her. The clumsy elegance of her truck, the way she managed to look delicate against practically anything, her shy confidence and charm either outshining or matching absolutely anything and everything in her subconscious path.
Every move was a damn glide. Every breath a fragile gust of wind, every laugh the chiming of bells. She seemed to make everything seem so.....perfect. So beautiful. And it fucking hurt to think about it.
You float like a feather, in a beautiful world.
I wish I was special, your so very special.
But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo.
I slowed to a gradual stop. My tan hand was flecked with the remnants of dirt and the grass stains from previous nights, and disgusted, I wiped them on the thighs of my jeans. The burning in my eyes had slowly turned into a small tingle, barely noticeable. It was then, when my chest was heaving thunderously, my black hair soaked in sweat and rain, that I realized that it was actually going to happen. Bella Swan, my Bella Swan, was going to become a Cullen. And after that, a leech. But most of all, a enemy. The prospect of it both stabbed my heart and stung my eyes at the same time. What was so special about the damn vampire anyway? I was twice as big as the pansy, and more than two times stronger. The man was a undead mess. And she loved him. She loved him....
I didn’t bother to run. Sinking to the ground, I let myself cry. The red haze clouding my vision slowly drained, leaving me with my pathetic self. In the entire time that I was there blubbering, not once did Quill or Embry try to poke in. For once, I think that they sensed that their prying would never do any good. Sam, on the other hand, tried from the beginning. His voice was like a small insect in the back of my mind; annoying at first, but you do learn to tune it out. As hard as it was to even consider, I knew that I had to attend the damn ceremony. Or come up with a fucking excuse on why I wasn’t attending. (“Sorry Bella, I can’t come to your wedding because I’d rather staple my hand to a wall....”)
And then I noticed the cliff.
To think: it would all be fucking over with one move. I bet Billy would cover my ‘accident’ with a elaborate excuse, and things would crust over in a year or two. Possibly sooner. What the hell was my purpose here, anyways? After the leech marriage, I knew that I was only destined to become the next folklore, this time told to young werewolves in 2980 or some distant year along those lines. I knew damn well that I didn’t belong in Forks, or LaPush for that matter.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.
And so I jumped. And for the total of ten or so seconds I was flying free, almost happy to be leaving. I didn’t, however, plan to hit the ground on four unbroken feet. Four running, intact, living feet. My heart thumped viciously in my hollow chest - signaling to me that I had once again, failed.
In the distance, Sam sighed. "Better luck next time, Jake" He whispered in my direction, and I could practically taste the disappointment in his tone. (But for what? That I wasn't dead, or that I wanted to be in the first place?)
I don't belong here.
The wind moaned in the distance, matching the brick lodged in my chest perfectly. Over my downcast head, a cluster of metallic rain clouds inched towards the sun. The leaves no longer made a sound as my too big feet crunched over them. My breath was ragged, harsh. Burrowed deep inside of my body, the beast was beginning to rage. I clicked my tongue as my blood began to boil, popping and bursting in crimson bubbles inside the veins. Beneath the safe fabric of my jean pocket, my fingers clawed at themselves. My legs tore through the mossy ground, staining my already tight sneakers green.
Her face flashed again in my mind. Her lips, the shade of delicate pink roses, turned into a sad smile. Her hands were entwined with it’s twin. I couldn’t help but to keep a firm bite on my bottom lip and hope to God that she wasn’t with Cullen, while I was out running like the madman I was. It was hard enough having to think of her day and damn night, but to know that the leech was able to actually look at her made my blood boil. Angrily, I catapulted a stray rock into the horizon before me, shattering the phantom of Bella Swan.
“Jake,” It started, innocently enough. Clutching a purse, her hair tied in knots, was love in the almost literal flesh. Standing on a doorway that she hadn’t graced for moths. My heart threatened to make a hole through my ribcage as she pronounced each syllable perfectly. “I-I wanted to invite you to something.” I nodded gently, watching as her slender fingers dug through her large bag, her brow furrowed in concentration. And then she gave to me.
An invitation. A wedding invitation, to be completely exact.
I didn’t bother to read it. I didn’t bother to tell her to leave, or to mention on how the ends of my heart were splintering away into a million pieces. I didn’t even bother to turn around and catch a glimpse of the fragile tears running down the creamy porcelain of her skin. All could recognize were the animalistic urges surfacing, and the salty water burning the rims of my dark eyes.
You're just like an angel, Your skin makes me cry.
And then I ran. I didn’t care where the hell I was going, I just knew I had to go somewhere. Passing trees and boulders, celery colored grass and the occasional stray. My mind, a usual junkyard, was almost clear. With each rhythm my heart pulsed, with each leap my legs took, I saw her. The clumsy elegance of her truck, the way she managed to look delicate against practically anything, her shy confidence and charm either outshining or matching absolutely anything and everything in her subconscious path.
Every move was a damn glide. Every breath a fragile gust of wind, every laugh the chiming of bells. She seemed to make everything seem so.....perfect. So beautiful. And it fucking hurt to think about it.
You float like a feather, in a beautiful world.
I wish I was special, your so very special.
But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo.
I slowed to a gradual stop. My tan hand was flecked with the remnants of dirt and the grass stains from previous nights, and disgusted, I wiped them on the thighs of my jeans. The burning in my eyes had slowly turned into a small tingle, barely noticeable. It was then, when my chest was heaving thunderously, my black hair soaked in sweat and rain, that I realized that it was actually going to happen. Bella Swan, my Bella Swan, was going to become a Cullen. And after that, a leech. But most of all, a enemy. The prospect of it both stabbed my heart and stung my eyes at the same time. What was so special about the damn vampire anyway? I was twice as big as the pansy, and more than two times stronger. The man was a undead mess. And she loved him. She loved him....
I didn’t bother to run. Sinking to the ground, I let myself cry. The red haze clouding my vision slowly drained, leaving me with my pathetic self. In the entire time that I was there blubbering, not once did Quill or Embry try to poke in. For once, I think that they sensed that their prying would never do any good. Sam, on the other hand, tried from the beginning. His voice was like a small insect in the back of my mind; annoying at first, but you do learn to tune it out. As hard as it was to even consider, I knew that I had to attend the damn ceremony. Or come up with a fucking excuse on why I wasn’t attending. (“Sorry Bella, I can’t come to your wedding because I’d rather staple my hand to a wall....”)
And then I noticed the cliff.
To think: it would all be fucking over with one move. I bet Billy would cover my ‘accident’ with a elaborate excuse, and things would crust over in a year or two. Possibly sooner. What the hell was my purpose here, anyways? After the leech marriage, I knew that I was only destined to become the next folklore, this time told to young werewolves in 2980 or some distant year along those lines. I knew damn well that I didn’t belong in Forks, or LaPush for that matter.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.
And so I jumped. And for the total of ten or so seconds I was flying free, almost happy to be leaving. I didn’t, however, plan to hit the ground on four unbroken feet. Four running, intact, living feet. My heart thumped viciously in my hollow chest - signaling to me that I had once again, failed.
In the distance, Sam sighed. "Better luck next time, Jake" He whispered in my direction, and I could practically taste the disappointment in his tone. (But for what? That I wasn't dead, or that I wanted to be in the first place?)
I don't belong here.