torture of loss。 But there was
no pain； none at all。
In the instant that I heard his voice； everything was very clear。 Like my head
had suddenly surfaced out
of some dark pool。 I was more aware of everything—sight； sound； the feel of
the cold air that I hadn't
noticed was blowing sharply against my face； the smells ing from the open
bar door。
I looked around myself in shock。
〃Go back to Jessica；〃 the lovely voice ordered； still angry。 〃You promised—
nothing stupid。〃
I was alone。 Jessica stood a few feet from me； staring at me with frightened
eyes。 Against the wall； the
strangers watched； confused； wondering what I was doing； standing there
motionless in the middle of the
street。
I shook my head； trying to understand。 I knew he wasn't there； and yet； he
felt improbably close； close
for the first time since since the end。 The anger in his voice was concern；
the same anger that was once
very familiar—something I hadn't heard in what felt like a lifetime。
〃Keep your promise。〃 The voice was slipping away； as if the volume was being
turned down on a radio。
I began to suspect that I was having some kind of hallucination。 Triggered； no
doubt； by the
memory—the deja vu； the strange familiarity of the situation。
I ran through the possibilities quickly in my head。
Option one： I was crazy。 That was the layman's term for people who heard
voices in their heads。
Possible。
Option two： My subconscious mind was giving me what it thought I wanted。 This
was wish fulfillment—a
momentary relief from pain by embracing the incorrect idea that he cared
whether I lived or died。
Projecting what he would have said if A） he were here； and B） he would be in
any way bothered by
something bad happening to me。
Probable。
I could see no option three； so I hoped it was the second option and this was
just my subconscious
running amuck； rather than something I would need to be hospitalized for。
My reaction was hardly sane； though—I was grateful。 The sound of his voice
was something that I'd
feared I was losing； and so； more than anything else； I felt overwhelming
gratitude that my unconscious
mind had held onto that sound better than my conscious one had。
I was not allowed to think of him。 That was something I tried to be very
strict about。 Of course I slipped；
I was only human。 But I was getting better； and so the pain was something I
could avoid for days at a
time now。 The tradeoff was the never…ending numbness。 Between pain and
nothing； I'd chosen nothing。
I waited for the pain now。 I was not numb—my senses felt unusually intense
after so many months of the
haze—but the normal pain held off。 The only ache was the disappointment that
his voice was fading。
There was a second of choice。
The wise thing would be to run away from this potentially destructive—and
certainly mentally
unstable—development。 It would be stupid to encourage hallucinations。
But his voice was fading。
I took another step forward； testing。
〃Bella； turn around；〃 he growled。
I sighed in relief。 The anger was what I wanted to hear—false； fabricated
evidence that he cared； a
dubious gift from my subconscious。
Very few seconds had passed while I sorted this all out。 My little audience
watched； curious。 It probably
looked like I was just dithering over whether or not I was going to approach
them。 How could they guess
that I was standing there enjoying an unexpected moment of insanity？
〃Hi；〃 one of the men called； his tone both confident and a bit sarcastic。 He
was fair…skinned and
fair…haired； and he stood with the assurance of someone who thought of himself
as quite good…looking。 I
couldn't tell whether he was or not。 I was prejudiced。
The voice in my head answered with an exquisite snarl。 I smiled； and the
confident man seemed to take
that as encouragement。
〃Can I help you with something？ You look lost。〃 He grinned and winked。
I stepped carefully over the gutter； running with water that was black in the
darkness。
〃No。 I'm not lost。〃
Now that I was closer—and my eyes felt oddly in focus—I analyzed the short；
dark man's face。 It was
not familiar in any way。 I suffered a curious sensation of disappointment that
this was not the terrible man
who had tried to hurt me almost a year ago。
The voice in my head was quiet now。
The short man noticed my stare。 〃Can I buy you a drink？〃 he offered； nervous；
seeming flattered that I'd
singled him out to stare at。
〃I'm too young；〃 I answered automatically。
He was baffled—wondering why I had approached them。 I felt pelled to
explain。
〃From across the street； you looked like someone I knew。 Sorry； my mistake。〃
The threat that had pulled me across the street had evaporated。 These were not
the dangerous men I
remembered。 They were probably nice guys。 Safe。 I lost interest。
〃That's okay；〃 the confident blonde said。 〃Stay and hang out with us。〃
〃Thanks； but I can't。〃 Jessica was hesitating in the middle of the street； her
eyes wide with outrage and
betrayal。
〃Oh； just a few minutes。〃
I shook my head； and turned to rejoin Jessica。
〃Let's go eat；〃 I suggested； barely glancing at her。 Though I appeared to be；
for the moment； freed of the
zombie abstraction； I was just as distant。 My mind was preoccupied。 The safe；
numb deadness did not
e back； and I got more anxious with every minute that passed without its
return。
〃What were you thinking？〃 Jessica snapped。 〃You don't know them—they could
have been
psychopaths！〃
I shrugged； wishing she would let it go。 〃I just thought I knew the one guy。〃
〃You are so odd； Bella Swan。 I feel like I don't know who you are。〃
〃Sorry。〃 I didn't know what else to say to that。
We walked to McDonald's in silence。 I'd bet that she was wishing we'd taken
her car instead of walking
the short distance from the theater； so that she could use the drive…through。
She was just as anxious now
for this evening to be over as I had been from the beginning。
I tried to start a conversation a few times while we ate； but Jessica was not
cooperative。 I must have
really offended her。
When we go back in the car； she tuned the stereo back to her favorite station
and turned the volume too
loud to allow easy conversation。
I didn't have to struggle as hard as usual to ignore the music。 Even though my
mind； for once； was not
carefully numb and empty； I had too much to think about to hear the lyrics。
I waited for the numbness to return； or the pain。 Because the pain must be
ing。 I'd broken my
personal rules。 Instead of shying away from the memories； I'd walked forward
and greeted them。 I'd
heard his voice； so clearly； in my head。 That was going to cost me； I was sure
of it。 Especially if I couldn't
reclaim the haze to protect myself。 I felt too alert； and that frightened me。
But relief was still the strongest emotion in my body—relief that came from
the very core of my being。
As much as I struggled not to think of him； I did not struggle to forget。 I
worried—late in the night； when
the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses—that it was all
slipping away。 That my