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A/N:
*sigh* ********, what in holy sweet young Jesus Christ's ******** banana's name am I doing? I've written s**t
before, but this one is totally gonna take the cake. A Twilight fanfic. *shudder* And not just a normal one, but a far-out one. Imagine Leah as a vampire and Rose as a werewolf. Both the traditional kind (well, more or less), not sparkly faggery. See? That's where I'm going. So grab your Pocky and your copy of Breaking Dawn, and hold on tight to your filthy, sweat-drenched cat ear headband and your fangirl photo
of R-Patts, because here I go.
~FE Freak, the scourge of literature
P.S. Of course I don't write like Steph. No one of you do. You may try, but you can't write just like her,
so I'll just pull my own s**t out of the bottomless Goatse-hole that serves as my fount of creativity.
Curse, a - what have I done? - Twilight fanfic.
Chapter 1: Eternity
My Edward. Not just for eighty years. For ever. It's still hard to believe, but here I was, sitting with him and my new family, the Cullens.
All the worries I'd had when I was human, the blurry fears of death or sickness, were gone. The Volturi weren't bothering us anymore. I had Renesmee. Nothing to worry about.
"Bella?" Edward's voice was concerned, which brought up murky memories of control and frustration. "We should go hunting. Charlie's throwing the family party tomorrow, remember?" Of course I remembered. "Oh, yeah. Let's go." The hunt had transformed in feeling and difficulty over the past year. Now, it was just something we did. We jumped out of the second-floor window, effortlessly, a routine movement. The river was something like a small trickle of water on the ground now, something that was easily passable. We lost ourselves in the hunt together, only snapping back from the predator's mindset when we entered the house again. Emmett and Jasper were watching a ball game, between two teams I neither knew nor cared for. Rosalie was reading some shallow fashion magazine, with Esme curiously reading over her shoulder, and Carlisle was helping out Sam and Leah after a quite serious fight they'd had. Alice was away for the night, sampling the new culture subset of Las Vegas. Even though she'd said it was curiosity, I'd seen her eyes when she told me, and I knew she was trying to feel human, as she must have had felt before all her memories had slipped away. Renesmee was sleeping over at her friend Lily's house, together with Anne, who was a year older. Nessie - no, Renesmee - was good at making friends, and now that the fear of the Cullens was over, she was swarmed by the children of Forks every day. Half a year ago, Carlisle had admitted to the townspeople that we were "different", and in an unusual commanding tone, told them that those who didn't like that could leave. None had left. Of course, the year had had its complications. It had turned out that Renesmee actually was venomous. Even though her venom had been slower than Edward's when I was dying fourteen months ago, and that Jacob was too strong to feel any effect from her diluted venom, she'd still been overcome once, at Lily's house. Luckily, she was closer to Renesmee than to us, but we'd still had to convince her parents that Nessie was harmless. "Bella? You're spacing out." Rosalie. Jake and Rose still had a very strained relationship, but she'd softened up, even towards Leah. "Oh? Yeah, maybe." "Bella, you should get something to do. Carlisle reads, and Edward and me play the piano. You can learn it too." I'd gotten that a lot. Music simply isn't me, no matter how much I try. I like listening to it, but playing just can't hold my interest for long. "Sorry. I've tried, you know. It's just not something I can spend a whole night doing." Rosalie's mouth twitched in a tiny smile. "Maybe you could go join up with Alice. You know what she's doing at the time." Parties. Lots of people. Not me at all. "Mmm, still not me. Guess I'll just have to be bored for half of eternity." I smiled, but it was still quite worrying. "You really should. She's not very talkative at the moment, so maybe you could run to Vegas and try to cheer her up. It's not even midnight yet." Argh. She knew I couldn't resist guilt trips. "Well, fine. I really don't like seeing her unhappy. Edward?" He turned his head from across the room, by the TV with Jasper and Emmett. "It's not a problem with me, Bella. Now that you can deal with the trouble you always seem to attract, it's fine." He flashed the crooked smile that I'd never get tired of. "Okay. I'll be going, then. Bye, all."
Chapter 2: Mary Brandon
I didn't even need a car. Even with my grotesquely fast "after" car, the trip to Vegas would still cost me most of the night. Instead, I flashed out the door in a graceful shimmer - at least my speed and strength would never get boring - and started running south. No one would see me, no matter where they were looking. Everyone who thought they saw something would have lost me before they got a chance to look again. About halfway down there - it only took me half an hour - I began running along the coast, moving so fast I was almost skimming over the water. After half an hour more, I reached L.A. and started to run inland. A wierd kind of jetlag kicked in when I stood a couple of miles from the glittering, flashing city. Could it be true that I'd ran from Washington State to southern Nevada in only an hour and a bit? That shouldn't be physically possible. An ecstatic smile spread across my face as I began running towards the city. Not only was I actually impossible to explain using science, I was also capable of doing things that science had labeled impossible.
Even though I'd never been in Vegas before, not even seen that many pictures of it, the place was exactly as I'd expected. A mess of lights that made my skin softly glow and ripple with neon colors, huge surrealistic buildings rising from the desert ground and a thick miasma of cigarette smoke, sweat, aftershave and alcohol, each smell battering against my senses with a choking intensity. That would make it harder to catch Alice's smell, though it wasn't common in this city. I discreetly sniffed around for the telltale scent of flowers, spices, clean clothes and the slight, unmistakable and disturbingly clinical sting of hospital, while walking down the crowded streets, ignoring the admiring glances of onlookers, mostly men, but also some truly beautiful women. I felt a flash of pride as I realized what they were feeling was jealousy, and then annoyance that I had to be the center of attention. It was Alice's fault, only giving me clothes that you'd see in a fashion magazine. I'd gotten used to ignoring the details of all the clothes she'd bought me, just to avoid getting exasperated. The dress I was wearing now was black and loose enough not to rip as I'd covered about half of the way across the States in an hour. It was still hard to believe, that I could -
There. I smelled the sterile tang of old-fashioned hospital from a classy glass building two blocks down. Casually strolling down the street, being careful not to begin running, I made my way down there, and, not even bothering to read the name of the place, I walked up to the bouncer and fixed him with a demanding glare. He placed three fingers pensively on his chin, looking me over one too many times, and stepped aside to let me in. The lounge inside was even more classy and modern than the building, a sculpted piece of stainless steel and fiberglass forming the bar, and low, rounded plastic chairs made up for barstools. Alice was sitting in one of the chairs, chatting absent-mindedly to a black-haired man in his twenties, who seemed equally disturbed and fascinated by her twitchy, birdlike body language. When I'd taken two steps inside, she whipped her head around at a disturbing speed, smiled at me and motioned for me to come and sit down. Shooing the man away with a quick wave of her hand, she turned her chair towards me and began to talk in a low, urgent voice. "Bella. I needed to talk to you." Always to the point, maybe too fast. "First tell me what you're doing here. Rose's dead worried." Alice frowned and deliberated my words for a moment before answering. "I'm just trying to get a taste of how people around my physical age are living right now. I really never grew mentally beyond the twenty." She smiled, something that made her look warm and likable, the perfect best friend. "They're having so much fun, I almost wish I could join them. As it is, I have to make do with faking." She gestured towards a near-finished martini on the bar, a fancy, simplistic cocktail that looked like it had cost way too much for a bit of alcohol and an olive. "I almost understand how they can drink them. Almost. It's better when you have a goal with it, and when it doesn't feel afterwards like you've been drinking cement." The smile on her face spread into a large, self-ironic grin that faded again just as quickly. "But I need to tell you. I've seen something really disturbing. About in a week from now, all the possible fates for us simply vanish. We're not gonna die, that's a different feeling, but this is honestly scaring me."
A/N: I'm getting to like this. Odd, but true.
Chapter 3: Unresolved
I was shocked. Alice seeing something like that? I took an unnecessary breath to steady myself and looked her in the eyes. She wasn't lying. Why would she lie about something like that, anyway? "Give me the details. I don't want to work everyone into a panic when I get home." I sounded much calmer than I was, which Alice must have had noticed, as she relaxed, leaned back in the chair and toned her voice down. "Bella, we're not gonna die. I said so already. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than that. But on the other hand - Bella, would you stop that?" An odd, metallic noise was grating in my ears, and I realized it was coming from my nails cutting into the hard skin of my palms. "Oops." If I could still have blushed, I would be completely red-faced by now. "Doesn't matter. We'll have to wait it out. As it is, I can feel something on the edges of my consciousness now, but it's too early to see exactly what it is. So anyway, should we go home now?" I'd planned on staying a bit longer with her, but now it was probably best to return. Even with my memory, the trip home was blurry and indistinct, surpressed fear lashing at the inside of my head with every step I took. Alice was our lifeline, the only way we could plan our moves in the more chaotic periods of our existence. About halfway to Forks, I began thinking about possible causes. The Quileutes? That seemed a convincing reason for all of two minutes, and I forced it to remain in my head for three more. But gradually, I began realizing that I was decieving myself. For that - or Nessie and Lily - to be a possible explanation, the werewolves would have to play a role in all our lives, at the exact same moment, in a way that we couldn't avoid, no matter what we did. Impossible. When we were nearing Forks, I forced the annoying thoughts out of my head and began focusing on Charlie's family party. It was about one o' clock at night, which left me with a lot of time to waste.
The night went faster than I'd expected. Edward and me spent about six hours in the cottage's bedroom. Even though I'd won the wager with Emmett, I could still hear his booming laughter all the way from the house. I decided to ignore it. Another two hours passed watching Renesmee while she was sleeping, admiring every single detail in her glossy hair, even as a cold, foggy Forks dawn broke above the pine trees. Nessie, Edward and me walked through the forest for the next five hours, Renesmee never getting bored once, instead following us from above, leaping from tree to tree and once in a while bursting into excited giggles while me and Edward studied every single animal, every single plant and every odd landscape formation, finding fascinating patterns in the most unassuming things. By four o' clock, when we got back from the walk, Charlie's party had already started over at his house. Odd how it was so easy not to call it "my house" anymore. I should've thought into the conspiratory smile on Alice's face as we drove there in Edward's Volvo, crammed together in an oddly familiar, human way, because when we pulled up to the house, I realized that there was no way Charlie would have organized all this by himself. "Family" at least seemed to have a very loose definition in this context, as the cars parked all around were clearly not just close family. Inside, I found out that Alice had helped invite everything that could possibly be called family, together with the families of people who'd married into the Swans and close friends of just about every family member present. Later, through the mess of shouting, eating, chattering and gossip, I found out that she'd volunteered to let some of the guests sleep in our house, a logical idea, since the amount of people had passed the hundred at about six o' clock, and now, after two more hours spent unwillingly talking to obscure relatives, tolerating various friends of the family undressing me with their eyes and working up the courage to eat something - like Alice had said, it tasted well enough, but afterwards, it stuck in my stomach, and I had to suppress the urge to throw up - the amount was pushing a hundred and fifty. Even later, I stuck to small-talk with my close family - Charlie, the Cullens and a slightly freaked-out Renee - as the rest had emptied the scarce wine on the tables and were beginning to do beer runs with everyone from the age of twelve. The night passed easily with that, and I realized that I could get pretty close to sleep by just lying down alone, relaxing and not worrying about Alice's words.
Chapter 4: Waiting
About five o' clock in the morning, when the party had started to burn out, I could no longer expand the noise to fill my entire head, displacing all the anxiety. I already knew we weren't going to die, but still. As I'd learned the hard way, some things easily get way to close to that for comfort. Maybe I'd have to live through the burning again. Maybe it'd hurt as much as when Edward left. It could maybe even be worse than when the Volturi were coming to kill Renesmee. I gasped and sat up in my old bed at an unnatural speed. A little squeal escaped my lips, and I stood up and began to pace around the room at a frantic pace. My chest felt oddly empty, as if someone had ripped a hole through my ribs and out through my back. I knew this feeling too well, and I'd hoped I would never have to feel it again. When I was still human, this was the feeling I'd get every time I was thinking about things that were far too hard and painful to comprehend. I kept obsessively flashing back and forth between my bed and the door, trying to drown out the unwelcome thoughts with physical activity. Once in a while, a surreally clear and melodious shriek exploded from deep in my chest. I kept it low enough not to wake Renee, who was sleeping on a mattress by the wall, but even that demanded more self-control than it had meeting Charlie a year ago. But someone had to hear it, and I wasn't as much afraid to tell them than I feared I would react. Luckily, I couldn't blush or cry anymore. Not even bleed. Somehow, the thought deepened my frustration and fear, and a moment later, Alice barged in the door, disturbingly silent. "What's the matter, Bella?", she whispered in a tone that held as much poorly-veiled pity as it did compassion. I decided to get it out. If anyone would understand, it had to be Alice. Not Rose. She was too bitter, and every time I talked to her, she somehow managed to change the subject to her own story. "Sorry if I'm wasting your time, but I just can't seem to grasp what you saw. It's-" "Really. Stop avoiding the question." Her words sounded crude, but her voice was tolerant. "Okay... I'm afraid." Alice's face flattened into a frown, and she exhaled loudly and glanced down at her fingers for a split second before answering. "That's no problem. I'm scared too. Even more now, when I can see who's behind this." "Who?", I wheezed in a voice that actually managed to sound breathless. "Aro. His mental fingerprint is all over my vision. Seems like he just won't leave us alone." I inhaled in shock, and shivered at the thought that I'd never look scared again, even though this - Aro trying to get to us again, veiling Alice's sight, maybe trying to kill us all - tore through my stomach and chest like my lifeless organs were melting into white-hot iron inside me. I actually thought I felt something in my cheeks, like a blush. Alice kept her gaze fixed on me, a mixture of frustration and unfocused anger dancing in her - unsurprisingly - already almost-black eyes. When I thought she was going to take the anger out on me, the odd feeling intensified, and I felt a tickling sensation under my eyes. Her mouth fell open in surprise, her expression showing worry, fear and a look of recognition. "Alice... what's bothering you?", I managed to squeeze out between the reflexive, panicked contractions of my chest. "Look in the mirror. After that, I'll get Carlisle to talk to you." I was just about to ask what she meant by "talking to Carlisle" when I looked in the mirror on the closet. My cheeks had actually taken on a flush, but it wasn't a healthy, rosy blush. My face was still pale, but red lines snaked up my cheeks and up to my eyes, giving me a sickly look. Where the lines ended, small drops of blood were beading on my eyelids. Alice picked me up while I stood stunned in front of the mirror, and lifted me over her shoulder without any problems. It seemed like she'd seen this before. Almost as if she'd read my anxiety, she started explaining while she began running towards the house, the window not even being an obstacle. "Very rare. Happened to Rose in the beginning.", she told me in an urgent voice. "Not physically dangerous. But it must really be bad to provoke that reaction. That's why we need to talk to him. Can't afford to ruin your life when we need it the most."
A/N: Not a pause, more like an extended vacation. Ah well.
Chapter 5: Reconciliation
The days began passing much faster from then on.
After a quick, formal talk with a concerned Carlisle, somehow all the problems seemed to fade into the background - with a little help from Jasper, but I was too preoccupied with not caring to get angry at him.
The days and nights spent with my family seemed to pass again, and I sometimes found that I had no words for immortality. I wasn't going to die. All the minor depressions and moping I had wasted precious hours of my life on back when I was ...alive, had no base now. The only real worry of humans was no matter to me. But still, no amount of optimism or Jasper's emotional manipulation could push away the reverse of the situation. What would I do in a few decades, when my family and friends were aging and dying? Should I risk taking away their souls, as was Edward's perpetual worry? I spent four nights - the thought that the next could be my last terrified me beyond all reason, so I avoided the thought - lying on my back in bed, vaguely missing sleep, thinking about that and other things, things that I would be better off suppressing.
The morning of Thursday - not "the last day", not "the last day" - everyone had completely dropped the habitual human charade. Alice seemed to have told everyone, and the miasma of stress in the spacious house was palpable. Edward was staring out the window, unmoving, and Carlisle and Esme just sat by the table and stared worriedly into each others' eyes. Alice and Jasper were outside, probably talking. It hurt to think of how Alice had to be feeling for telling the others. Emmett was uncharacteristically restless, pacing around the living room and up and down the stairs, while Rosalie, who normally avoided any proof of her state that she could, was venting her frustration on the trees across the river. In my detached state on the couch, I wondered what the werewolves would think of it. Oh. The Quileutes. Jacob. I hadn't thought about what would happen to him and his pack. Alice couldn't see them, so there was no need in asking. No need to worry the others even more. An odd sound from the driveway caught my attention, and it took me about a fraction of a second to realize that it was Alice, growling out a stream of words that would have sounded horrifying in anything else than her crystal-clear, girlish voice. Moments later, she came flitting in the door, followed by Jasper and Rosalie, her usual lithe gait replaced by a jittery, neurotic step. Looking defeated, Alice handed Carlisle a small package, painstakingly wrapped in outdated, bone-colored paper. A tiny intake of air through my nose sent a cloyingly sweet smell into my useless lungs, a stench like moldy sugar and rotting apples. The only person who could have sent that package was Aro. Stunned by stress and fear, I just sat there, silent, as Carlisle ripped open the paper and emptied out a large crystal vial and two folded pieces of paper. He looked over one piece, a antique scarlet sheet with decorative gold trim, but for some reason threw it to the side while he unfolded the other. The only thing I could see on the red paper was a perfect circle with two jagged lines cutting through it, drawn like a simple work of art. Carlisle's eyes quickly flickered over the other sheet, off-white and decorated with black ink swirls on the back. His expression darkened over the three seconds it took him to read it. He wordlessly passed it to Esme, and by the time it reached me, the atmosphere in the room was downcast and miserable. The letter was written in Aro's delicate handwriting, and the dark red ink seemed to radiate a palpable smugness.
"Dear Cullen family,
I apologize for our unfortunate encounter yesteryear.
Naturally, we viewed the existence of your young Ms. Renesmee C. Cullen as a possible threat,
and we were obliged by the trust of our beloved citizens to take action.
I dearly hope that you understand our motives for this.
We would like to continue the peace with your coven, make no mistakes,
but there has been a resurgence of distrust among the inhabitants of our ancient city.
We will regretfully need to take action, but we will avoid the use of unneccesary force if possible.
Thus, we have been forced to resort to untraditional methods.
Unfortunately, the suspicion extends to your allies of the Quileute tribe of La Push,
and as such, even though we of the Volturi council have no will to embroil these shapeshifters,
who we have seen to be both honorable, temperant and peaceful,
there is a long-standing grudge between our citizens in Volterra and the vicinity and creatures of this kind.
Please do not panic.
We only do this to ensure the continued safety of humans and our comrades.
If you wish to mitigate some effects of this sanction,
then drink the contents of the attached vial once the sanction has taken effect.
It does have a cost, but we have never assumed you to be vain and greedy.
We hope our trust in you is not misplaced.
Aro, Caius and Marcus of the Volturi Council
Overseen by Renata and Alec of the Volturi Guard."
Emmett began snarling a steady stream of words under his breath while pacing the length of the living room.
"Damn it, they know perfectly well that we don't trust their crap. And if they're this formal, it can only mean they're out to kill us again, the bastards." Even as Jasper and Edward began joining in the strained conversation, their words were drowned out by a buzzing in my head. The Quileutes. Quil. Embry. Sam. Seth. Leah. Emily. Billy. And most importantly, Jacob. What were they going to do to them? Emmett was right - Aro's syrupy, formal tone was a clear warning. Still, the part about the vial was clearly the most disturbing. Potions and occult trappings weren't their favored method of solving a conflict, and I knew from experience that Aro preferred to use his hand-picked soldiers for critical situations.
Something drastic was needed to make the millenia-old Volturi deviate from their time-honored customs. With a bit of effort, I pushed my mental shield out from myself to convey the message to Edward. He seemed to have understood, because his expression hardened and he turned silent in the middle of his conversation. When he resumed it, it was clear that he thought the idea plausible, as he told the others in strained tones about my theory.
A/N: Having a moving plot is one of the rarest things in my stories/fics. That may come from me originally being a slash writer. Oh yeah, I like reviews. Give them to me.
Chapter 6: Curse
The silence lasted for five minutes, the longest until now. After that, it was punctuated by Alice's periodic snarls and growls as she seemed to find more and more details about it. As Edward listened to her thoughts, his face seemed to turn even paler, and his face contorted into a frustrated grimace. When he spoke, his voice was flat and monotone. "Alice thinks it's something that will change us, change what we are. She can't see more than that. Aro has really covered up after himself this time. The last words came out in a sarcastic growl. He cocked his head an inch to the side, like he was intently listening to something. His eyes widened, and every bit of anger vanished from his face, replaced by pure desperation. "It's coming. No more than a couple of minutes." Only a matter of minutes? What about those who weren't prepared, such as the Quileutes and... Nessie? What was going to happen to her? As far as I knew, she was still at Lily's. If something happened, she would be helpless. But should I run away from the others to find her, or should I betray my daughter to be with the rest of my family? The decision was too heavy, and I sat frozen on the couch, grinding my teeth. The strained silence was suddenly broken by Alice crying. No, trying to cry. She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut to stifle the reflexive sobs, but she was still shaking from the effort. This time, Edward didn't need to speak for her as she struggled to choke out a few words. "Now. Get... ready. Don't be... afraid." Emmett just had time to growl under his breath before a wave of cold slammed into my chest and cut off my vision. I didn't feel like I was falling or floating - I was nowhere, and there was nothing to fall through or float in. A familiar thirst ripped through my throat, leaving behind a feeling of vulnerability and hollowness, like the spark of life that distanced me from my instincts was being ripped away. My body tensed, then relaxed, letting a sensation of raw power fill the hole in my soul. In a moment of stillness in the dark, I was free to think the feelings through. Something in me felt more human, not quite so unnatural and alien. A rising power was peaking behind the pain in my throat. The nothingness vanished. It was still dark, but I was somewhere again. I struggled to open my eyes, but nothing changed. Only after several minutes had passed did I realize that the darkness had faded, and I was clutching my head in my hands, eyes wide open. The first thing I noticed was that my heart wasn't beating. Somehow, it felt so much more absolute now, an emptiness in my chest that I couldn't ignore. I felt dead. Not just inhuman, like before, but truly dead. My hands were smooth and dry against my face, lacking the thin sweat of life. I had to concentrate on every breath, pulling so much useless air into my lungs. I could still sense Edward's familiar lilac-honey-and-sun scent and Alice's sharp, sterile hospital stench, and the faint sound of cars on the freeway was still reaching me. Theoretically, eveything was normal. With me. But I had to check on the others. What if I had been lucky?
I was the first to open my eyes. Nothing had happened. Not as far as I could see, at least. Everyone was sitting or standing where they had been before. But somehow, something felt off. Wrong. Alice slowly opened her eyes, and I saw my confusion and fear mirrored in them. Her eyes were still a golden yellow, but the wrongness was still there. Something about her had changed, but I couldn't seem to notice. She was just as dead as before - the word felt easier to think now, when I didn't feel so inhuman. Oh. That was it. Alice was still pale, faultless and perfectly beautiful as always, but the marble-like white of her skin had changed to a more human tone. She was still pale, and I felt no warmth, breathing or heartbeats from her or anyone else, but she wasn't as overtly monstrous as before. Something began to sting on my neck and arms, and Alice's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, like she knew what was happening. She darted forward, attempting to shove the others out of the room. When she had the others moved under the stairs, she ignored their confused questions and Emmett's swearing as they woke up, and stared at me with a mix of incredulousness and anger. "What are you doing?" she hissed at me. "Are you really that stupid? Get out of the room, now." When I sat still, incomprehending, she threw herself across the room in a hurried movement, as if braving some painful danger, and slung me across her shoulder. She sprinted into the adjoining room, laying me in a dark corner by the stairs, and stared at me, confused. "Are you really as stupid as you seem?" she asked me, though her tone was more curious than patronizing. The only thing I could manage to stammer out was "What are you talking about, Alice? What's wrong?" Alice rolled her eyes, then pointed at my arm. "That's what's wrong, Bella." When I became conscious of what I saw, the stinging pain flooded back into my body. My arm was red and blistered, with blackish, charred marks on my shoulder. Emmett had woken up and was mumbling expletives through his teeth as he took in the burn that, judging from the pain, spread across my left arm, my neck, the left side of my face and my right shoulder. Alice began inspecting the wound, muttering sourly at me. "I can't believe that you didn't feel it, Bella. If I hadn't gotten you out of there, I guess you would've burned up. I can't be sure, though. Whatever Aro's done, it's huge. It's not just the sun, I can feel it. It's much more, too much."
- by Eres Vanes |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 06/21/2010 |
- Skip
- Title: Curse - Bella POV
- Artist: Eres Vanes
-
Description:
Here comes the s**t hurricane.
Long, filler-stuffed, crappily laid out and, somehow, mine.
If you read it, comment and review. - Date: 06/21/2010
- Tags: twilight bella fanfiction fanfic
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Eres Vanes - 02/26/2011
- Y'know, you might need to learn how to spell before you tell the guy who has not made a single typo out of ignorance in five years. I know what a paragraph is, I just get jolted out of concentration easily if I have to layout. Try to review the story, will ya, or do you lack the critical insight to comment on anything besides the superficial?
- Report As Spam
- Hank Moody - 02/23/2011
- You need to pick up a book on writing, and first learn what a paragraph is and how to construct it. Second, introduce yourself to spellcheck.
- Report As Spam