Grief, 4/5- Depression
Title: Grief, 4/5- Depression
Author: wingsss
Rating: K+
Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around for my own amusement, and hopefully yours also. Hope you enjoy!
Author's note: This fan fiction is written as a series of one shots from the perspectives of characters in the 5 different stages of grief as described by psychologist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her book "On Death and Dying." They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
Depression- Edward Cullen
Catatonic. That was how the all described my condition for the months after the accident. They tried not to think about it too much in my presence, and I tried desperately to not hear them. But I knew. Jasper couldn't even be in my presence, because I spread my uncontrollable depression onto him. He tried to calm me with his gift-but not even that could lift my mood. It just made me lethargic. Not happy.
After shutting myself up in my room with my thoughts, I eventually stopped hearing voices. I just heard… nothing. I tried not to think, because it killed me. I tried not the even breathe, because her smell clung to my clothes, to the linens in my room. Traces of her where everywhere. So I stooped even looking around my room. I closed my eyes, stilled by breathing, and just lay. I was dead. Ninety years too late, I was finally acting like a corpse.
I wasn't able to suffer through the funeral, but every night I did go to visit her grave. I was so used to sneaking though her window every evening, it had been the highlight of my days. It was It felt so… odd to be in her presence, and unable to smell her blood. It was still in her body, but the cells were dying. As the days went on, the smell got fainter and fainter, until all I had left was the ghost of her. The memories of her. They were fleeting, like human memories. I thought I could remember her face, her voice, her laugh, her smile… but then it just barely escaped me. It hurt too much to remember fully. I'd catch a glimpse of her face… and then nothing. Like my mind was protecting me from the perfect recollections it held, because to think about them too much would kill me.
It was around three in the morning when I got out of bed and ran downstairs. I fleetingly enjoyed the chance to stretch my legs as I sprinted though the front door and through the trees to the small Forks cemetery a mile up the road from town.
That night, the ran soaked me as I sat on the ground, facing her tombstone. My fingers traced the indents of the letters etched in the marble. The stone was white marble-I tried not to think of the irony of that. Renee picked it out because it was simple and pure, traits most people assigned to Bella. I guess I was the only one who knew exactly how not simple she was. It was hard, white, and always cold. Just as I was. And as she would never be.
The ground was damp, but it was just misting right now, not full out rain. So I lay back, next to where her body lay deep underground, and let the rain and mud soak my clothes. Lying there, it was easy to pretend that I was dead too. It was quiet and dark. I could stay here, by her side, forever.
I hated who-and what-I was. I wished to be dead, because then Bella might still be alive. I wished I didn't have to hunt, because then I could have been there for her. I wished I was human, because then even if I couldn't have saved her, I might have been able to die by her side.
I hated myself for being such an idiot this past year. For leaving her, for refusing to change her… I would never be able to forgive myself. I owed her my… existence… after she came to Italy to save me. I would never be able to repay her. The fact that I might have been able to prevent this, to even my debt to her… well that was too excruciating to deal with right now.
I just didn't know where to go from here. I couldn't even remember what used to fill my days before I knew her. All I thought was that there was no point to this anymore. Who knew how many more empty days I would have to float through before the end came for me? The idea of ending the painful emptiness early was the only warm thought I could muster.
I had made up my mind a long time ago regarding what would happen after Bella died. Of course, I never imagined it would be so soon. I didn't know what I could do-I was in the house and everyone was watching me out of the corner of their eyes, for any sign I was planning something "rash," as they put it. It shouldn't be so hard to understand that there was nothing in my life anymore once Bella was gone. My life was, once again, a moonless night. But now, there were no stars-no points of light or reason. There was no reason for this tragedy. There was no reason for anything, and there certainly was no reason for living any more.
Author: wingsss
Rating: K+
Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around for my own amusement, and hopefully yours also. Hope you enjoy!
Author's note: This fan fiction is written as a series of one shots from the perspectives of characters in the 5 different stages of grief as described by psychologist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her book "On Death and Dying." They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
Depression- Edward Cullen
Catatonic. That was how the all described my condition for the months after the accident. They tried not to think about it too much in my presence, and I tried desperately to not hear them. But I knew. Jasper couldn't even be in my presence, because I spread my uncontrollable depression onto him. He tried to calm me with his gift-but not even that could lift my mood. It just made me lethargic. Not happy.
After shutting myself up in my room with my thoughts, I eventually stopped hearing voices. I just heard… nothing. I tried not to think, because it killed me. I tried not the even breathe, because her smell clung to my clothes, to the linens in my room. Traces of her where everywhere. So I stooped even looking around my room. I closed my eyes, stilled by breathing, and just lay. I was dead. Ninety years too late, I was finally acting like a corpse.
I wasn't able to suffer through the funeral, but every night I did go to visit her grave. I was so used to sneaking though her window every evening, it had been the highlight of my days. It was It felt so… odd to be in her presence, and unable to smell her blood. It was still in her body, but the cells were dying. As the days went on, the smell got fainter and fainter, until all I had left was the ghost of her. The memories of her. They were fleeting, like human memories. I thought I could remember her face, her voice, her laugh, her smile… but then it just barely escaped me. It hurt too much to remember fully. I'd catch a glimpse of her face… and then nothing. Like my mind was protecting me from the perfect recollections it held, because to think about them too much would kill me.
It was around three in the morning when I got out of bed and ran downstairs. I fleetingly enjoyed the chance to stretch my legs as I sprinted though the front door and through the trees to the small Forks cemetery a mile up the road from town.
That night, the ran soaked me as I sat on the ground, facing her tombstone. My fingers traced the indents of the letters etched in the marble. The stone was white marble-I tried not to think of the irony of that. Renee picked it out because it was simple and pure, traits most people assigned to Bella. I guess I was the only one who knew exactly how not simple she was. It was hard, white, and always cold. Just as I was. And as she would never be.
The ground was damp, but it was just misting right now, not full out rain. So I lay back, next to where her body lay deep underground, and let the rain and mud soak my clothes. Lying there, it was easy to pretend that I was dead too. It was quiet and dark. I could stay here, by her side, forever.
I hated who-and what-I was. I wished to be dead, because then Bella might still be alive. I wished I didn't have to hunt, because then I could have been there for her. I wished I was human, because then even if I couldn't have saved her, I might have been able to die by her side.
I hated myself for being such an idiot this past year. For leaving her, for refusing to change her… I would never be able to forgive myself. I owed her my… existence… after she came to Italy to save me. I would never be able to repay her. The fact that I might have been able to prevent this, to even my debt to her… well that was too excruciating to deal with right now.
I just didn't know where to go from here. I couldn't even remember what used to fill my days before I knew her. All I thought was that there was no point to this anymore. Who knew how many more empty days I would have to float through before the end came for me? The idea of ending the painful emptiness early was the only warm thought I could muster.
I had made up my mind a long time ago regarding what would happen after Bella died. Of course, I never imagined it would be so soon. I didn't know what I could do-I was in the house and everyone was watching me out of the corner of their eyes, for any sign I was planning something "rash," as they put it. It shouldn't be so hard to understand that there was nothing in my life anymore once Bella was gone. My life was, once again, a moonless night. But now, there were no stars-no points of light or reason. There was no reason for this tragedy. There was no reason for anything, and there certainly was no reason for living any more.