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#132 - blattish (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #131 - clechyl (09/15/2013) [-]
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#129 - jukuku (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #128 - sketchE (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #127 - thatscrewedupkid (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #121 - zama (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #86 - seanbeanaway (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #83 - randomserb (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #81 - dannyqd (09/15/2013) [+] (2 replies)
My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It wasseventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I waswearing my favorite shirt — sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearingit as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

  In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small townnamed Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains onthis inconsequential town more than any other place in the United Statesof America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade thatmy mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was inthis town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until Iwas fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these pastthree summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for twoweeks instead.

  It was to Forks that I now exiled myself— an action that I took withgreat horror. I detested Forks.

  I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved thevigorous, sprawling city.

  "Bella," my mom said to me — the last of a thousand times — before I goton the plane. "You don't have to do this."My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt aspasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leavemy loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course shehad Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be foodin the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she gotlost, but still…"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been sayingthis lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

  "Tell Charlie I said hi.""I will.""I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want —I'll come right back as soon as you need me."But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.
User avatar #49 - icameheretotroll (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #46 - illutvar (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #45 - bitchitroll (09/15/2013) [-]
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#34 - draeman (09/15/2013) [-]
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#30 - redbeardfj (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #15 - breensbestfriend (09/15/2013) [-]
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#14 - iamwutiam (09/15/2013) [-]
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#13 - fnatmidenpp ONLINE (09/14/2013) [-]
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User avatar #12 - mrwillje (09/14/2013) [-]
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User avatar #141 - baloothebear (09/15/2013) [-]
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User avatar #136 - bakinboy (09/15/2013) [-]
“You’re wrong.” His voice was almost inaudible. He looked down, stealing my bottle lid and then spinning it on its side between his fingers. I stared at him, wondering why I didn’t feel afraid. He meant what he was saying — that was obvious. But I just felt anxious, on edge… and, more than anything else, fascinated. The same way I always felt when I was near him.
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