Twilight Reimagined: Life and Death [ON HOLD]

The story follows Beau Swan and his vampire love interest Edythe Cullen . . . Beau is 'supposable' Bella and Edythe is 'supposable' Edward.

Beau Swan sacrificed everything when he was left with a sudden, unexpected, life-altering decision: Death or Forever-as unchanging vampire-with the love of his life.



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Author's note

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS! I MAY ADD THINGS THAT WEREN'T MENTION IN THE ACTUAL STORY . . . MY OWN IDEA OF CREATING BACKGROUND HISTORY . . . ETCETERA, ETCETERA!
AA

1. CHAPTER ONE . . .

CHAPTER ONE....

 

*Unedited Chapter . . .*

 

 

"Maybe now is not the time to make hasty decisions," Phil said to my Mom.

"It's not hasty, Phil, I have been thinking about it for some time," she replied weakly, weary.

Phil was trying to talk her out of moving. He couldn't see it as the right thing to do. I understand where he was coming from, for her to turn her back on all the memories we've had there. On the other hand, I understand why Mom wanted to leave. To get away. Maybe I would, too, you know. If she had died before I went to live with Charlie, I couldn't stay there either.

"It's hard being here, Phil," Mom continued, feeling the need to explain to her husband. "I see in him everywhere I look, everywhere I turn. The dreams will always be there, I know that. But here, within these walls, I feel like I'm fighting to keep my sanity because I constantly hear his voice. My boy, Phil." Mom cried some more, causing my heart to feel like it had been ripped out of my chest.

She had been crying intermittently for hours now.

It had been only four days ago when I decided I had to visit my Mom. One evening while I was home talking—with my new family—when a sudden feeling washed over me, like being outside on a heavy rainy day. I remembered when I leapt so fast from my seat, had I been human, I would've fallen forward on my face the way my head would spin like a roller-coaster.

I remembered hearing Edythe's angelic voice, at the time she had sounded miles away—instead of less than a step away. When I came back from my train of thoughts and looked at everyone. They stared back with anxious eyes, waiting for a reason for my sudden mood change. Of course, I couldn't tell them that I had this sudden need to visit my Mom. They—and by—they—I mean everyone except Archie—wouldn't have agreed and that was okay, I guess. I was a new vampire, and to me, that was like a hormonal teenage girl. Even though I was told I had been doing extremely well—you never know when a girl hormones will go into overdrive and she snaps.

I told Archie what intended to do and I needed his help. He spent days and night teaching me ways to control my thirst, which everyone realised I excelled at doing; still I didn't want to feel too overconfident and jinx it. Archie did well by me and got me here. I needed to figure a way to repay him, though I didn't think he wanted much . . . if anything at all.

"Why did this have to happen to my boy?" I didn't know how much more of her cries I could tolerate.

I was inside my old bedroom . . . it wasn't so much a bedroom but a room with a bed, listening to my sorrowful Mom. It made me sad, angry almost, for costing her pain. It was my first time seeing her after the funeral and she was just as distorted. I wondered if it will ever get better, and when? How long before she started enjoying life again?

Back in Forks, I see Charlie. I visit him when it was dark and quiet. He started sleeping again, but his eyes still watered when he see my bedroom. So he didn't bother to go upstairs and took all he needed and remained in the living room. I had a different pain in my heart for Charlie than I had for my Mom.

I sat on the floor, back against my bed. My knees were pulled upward, hands rested on them as I faced the door leading outside my room, down a small hallway—into the living and dining room. I could see it all in my head: layout of our small house, the way furniture's were positioned; frames lined the walls, board games Mom and I played on weekends, neatly stacked on top of grandma Swan antique wooden table, right next to the television. Leaning forward, I put my forehead on my knees with a deep groan. Mom wasn't strong like Charlie, and for a long time, it had been just the two of us. She wasn't the most mature for her age and even though she had Phil, now that I was dead, knowing I wasn't just a phone call away anymore was enough to raise new panic inside me. I worried more for her. I pained for her. My new body, the way it reacted when I feel things deeply. My emotions become . . . heightened. Jessamine had used magnified. It could get overwhelming, but thankfully, with the extra space in my head I could easily separate them, otherwise . . .

After much talk Phil was finally on-board with moving, I didn't think he stood a chance really, attempting to convince Mom otherwise.

"Okay," he agreed. "We will move—starting tomorrow. You've decided what you want to do with his stuff."

"His stuff." Mom sniffed. Something tells me she hadn't been in my room since the incident.

 I looked around. I hate my room. Mom chose the wallpaper when I was only a boy, back when children option mattered not, so there wasn't anything I could do but smile like I loved it and thanked her. It was a very cold blue, but I always thought she was colour-blind so she was thrilled with it. I had been living with it for years, and I just hate it, especially now that I was able to see it clearly with my new sight. Aside from my wallpaper, my room was pretty dull. There was a sort of uncertainty about it, like I was trying to discover myself inside it and the way it all seemed disorganised would make you think I was indolent, except I was opposite . . . neat freak . . . OCD. For some reason though, my room could never remain orderly like the rest of the house when I cleaned. It drove me nuts.

"Where are you going?" Phil asked Mom. I heard the sound the couch made when she stood.

"I'm going to make tea," she answered in a dead voice. "Would you like a cup?"

"No. But let me do it. You sit and rest." He instructed. I could tell Mom hesitated because Phil added, "Come Renee. You're tired. You need sleep and food in your system. Let me handle it and you sit," he told her again with finality.

It was a hard task for her to do. Just sit. I knew because I dislike sitting when my mind wouldn't turn-off. I got that from her. It only gave us more time than needed to be alone with our thoughts, which could be very, very bad.

"I never told you—Charlie thinks I blame him for what happened to Beau," Mom told Phil as she retrieved her seat. The couch sounded again.

"Do you?" Phil asked timidly, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

I didn't know if I wanted to know either.

"I do not know," Mom answered frankly. Her words brought with it a new pain in my frozen heart.

Phil was quiet, which was probably best. Renee was his wife—sure. Charlie was her ex-husband, father of her only child. Did he really want to get in the middle of that? No. Hence his silence.

Honestly, now wasn't the time for my parents to be angry at each other, play blame card. I thought death brought parents closer.

"Get some rest. I'll wake you when I'm done."

"How long is it going to take to make one cup of tea?" Mom asked, and there was a little mocking to her tone.

Phil laughed a short laugh.

"Actually, I'm going to make noodle soup with diced potatoes and carrots. You have to eat something."

"Hmmm! Sounds delicious."

"Let's hope it taste that way," he said with a smile in his voice

"Beau." My left ear twitched upward immediately when I heard my whispered name from outside my window.

My body astonished me, truly. Its reflex was not like anything I ever encountered. Sometimes I even frighten myself. Other times it seemed to move faster than I could keep up, that was still strange for me, too. It was like the second I think of an action, my body was already performing its deed.

The voice belonged to Archie. He had been waiting outside while I process . . . well . . . what I could of Mom's heartbreak.

Archie was telling me it was time for us to go. We caught an early flight to Phoenix and booked to return on the last flight to Forks. Because of our skin condition we were unable to travel during the day.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'm coming."

I stood at a human pace and walked forward—to the door—where I placed my body against it for what felt like hours instead of mere seconds. I heard Phil in the kitchen; Mom had finally fallen asleep, though she'll wake before Phil gets the chance to wake her. She could never sleep for long when distress.

Backing away from the door, I glanced around my room for the last time. Last time, I thought. My room was a bit small but cosy. I looked at the chair next to the tv-stand—with a giant teddy bear I'd won at some carnival, sat on it. I thought Edythe would've found something funny to say about Teddy, if not for the way he looked, for sure his name. Teddy. Likely one of the cheeses and most common name.

"I love you, Mom . . . always and forever," I muttered.

As I was going to the window I climbed through earlier to get inside my room, something creek beneath my foot. Just as I think to stop, my new body when sculpture still. I shook my head, a small my smile shaped my lips despite my mood. This body was all too great . . . too great for me. On bending knees I pulled back dark coloured carpet that hid the wooden floor and realised quickly what I stepped on. I couldn't believe I didn't remember it was there . . . my hidden floorboard, about the size of a shoebox. I used to hide candies from Mom inside. She liked to check if I had more than I should stash under my pillow. I opened it and there were a few items inside.

"Beau." Archie's voice sounded again. "We need to go now."

"I am coming," I answered.

"You said so before." There was a bit of inpatient in his tone now. "You know, for a vampire, you move like a human."

Like I hadn't heard that one before.

I thought it was best not to delay any longer. I didn't want Archie to think twice about coming to my aid again. I grabbed everything inside, shoved it in my pocket and act quickly to replace what I shifted around and just as swiftly I was through the window.

"Did being here help?" Archie's question drifted to from the other side of the road.

I was really fond of Archie. He was easily like. I could just imagine had I been a vampire in the early years—the fun we would have had.

"More than you know," I answered, voice weighty with emotions. My throat was tight. "Thank you, Archie, for helping me. I know the magnitude of angry voices we will hear once we get home but honestly, I'd do it all over again."

"Like I told you, Beau, you're my brother and to me—we've been friends for a very long time. I'm just pleased you found what you came for, please to share this with you."

Being home again under such circumstance brought a nasty feeling. I'll never return for what once held meaning to me was leaving soon. Mom. All will remain were empty walls, promises made, grief and a whole lot of sadness.

"Take care of my Mom, Phil," I said like he could hear me. "She's all you have now. Never stop loving her. Never stop doing right by her. Be patient with her—she'll need it now more than ever. And Mom . . . Oh, Mom. I am sorry."

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