Cascade and Cyanide

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Cascade and Cyanide
By americnxidiot
Preface
Bella
December 14
People had always warned me about Edward Masen.
He was the first name I heard when I stepped foot into Forks High School earlier
this year. An overeager blonde boy named Mike Newton had taken it upon
himself, without my consent, to give me the rundown on this small town school.
“To save yourself from social suicide,” he had said, as if the choosing the right
circle of friends in Forks was the most important decision I would ever make. As if
Forks was Clallam County 98331, the hottest zip code in northwestern America.
He told me of the trendy places to shop in Port Angeles, and of the best diner in
Forks. “And the most important thing,” he had been very adamant about this, “is
that you avoid Edward Masen. The kid is psychotic.”
Psychotic was a word commonly used to describe Edward. Weird and freakish
were other good ones. My father decided upon “troubled” when I first mentioned
his name at dinner. Edward frequented the police cars of Forks, never doing
anything bad enough to earn a sentence, but constantly fined for more minor
offenses. Trespassing, illegal parking, littering, and one count underage drinking,
though Charlie released him into the care of his adopted parents after the last
one with a verbal warning. And he’d lost his license soon after turning seventeen
for marijuana possession.
But the Edward I had met and fallen in love with wasn’t like that. He was funny,
honest, and incredibly passionate about music and art. He was the kind of boy
who would write a poem when he was angry, or would play piano until his
frustration passed. It took a lot of effort to get him to open up to me, but I was
so thrilled when he had. I earned his trust the old fashion way– ignoring the
rumors, and talking to him as if I hadn’t been forewarned about his problems.
And it did take a while.
Eventually he realized that I held genuine interest in him as a person, and not
just the alleged town psycho. He began answering my questions with questions of
his own, getting to know me slowly and thoroughly. And I was stunned to learn
exactly how intelligent and caring he was. Edward never gave me any reason to
be afraid.
Which made it even more terrifying seeing him like this. Edward was hunched
over a sketchpad, his arm flying furiously across the page, feet jittering so much
it looked like he was seizing. The pencil in his hand was bent and strained with
the force of his grip. Nonsensical words slipped out of his mouth at an incredible
rate. I had entered his room ten minutes ago, and Edward had yet to notice my
presence, so consumed in his drawing and whatever was running through his
head.
“Fucking heart is beating out of my chest,” he seethed, ripping his apparently
inadequate creation out of his sketchbook and beginning a new one before the
paper had even hit the floor. It landed gently next to the empty baggy coated in
white powder and a rolled up dollar bill.
“Edward?” I asked, my voice shaking like it never had before. His eyes shot up to
me, green irises hidden by highly dilated pupils.
“Bella? What are you doing here?” He was quickly distracted by the sound of my
name, “Bella, beautiful beautiful Bella, fee fie fo fella, ella ella ella.” It would have
almost been funny if it weren't so disturbing. He sounded like a drunk child. His
pencil changed direction on the page, but never stopped scratching. I took a
moment to really look at the discarded portrait on the floor. A girl with wide and
dark eyes stared up at me, hair twirling wildly around her head. She was
haunting and beautiful, as was her creator.
“Edward, are you doing cocaine?” I asked over his unintelligible rambling.
“I’m in the midst of a creative hurricane, my dear sweet beautiful Isabella. That
stuff,” he gestured frantically to the paraphernalia on the floor, “only helps the
process. Just enough to push me over into the abyss. Plus I took it hours ago, so
I barely feel it anymore. No need to worry Bellaella.”
My mind frantically searched for stored information from health classes, anything
to help me figure out this situation. It didn’t look like an overdose. He was barely
sweating and the jittering seemed completely voluntary. Perhaps he really hadn’t
done that much. That scared me even more.
“You haven’t been to school in a few days, Edward.”
“Of course not. I can’t leave until this is finished. Tickle polyester sick within the
parapet.”
I gulped, noting the dozens of water bottles scattered around him on the carpet.
“How long have you been working on this?” I asked, not entirely sure what “this”
was.
“Time is an irrelevant and cruel measure. There’s barely time for sleep let alone
for something as superfluous as school. Screwing for a dollar sucking on a fire-
hose. But now that you’re here, I can finally finish. My muse has come to me.
Chewing on a rubber line tied to chairs and rare bits.”
My mind could not connect the Edward I knew and this twitching, terrifying mess
before me. There was no way they could comprise the same person. This person
before me was psychotic and scary. I felt terrified of this person. This person
could hurt me.
Edward suddenly stood and moved towards me with a loud step, “Bella, Bella,
you have to sit by me so I can get your eyes right.” I didn’t even let myself
consider the implications of that statement, and focused on helping Edward get
past whatever was making him act like this. I touched his bronze hair for the first
time, running my fingers through it like my mother did to me as a child. The
calming scratches always put me to sleep.
Edward’s eyes closed and his breath shook horribly, his mess of hair nuzzling
frantically into my moving palm. I swallowed my fear and continued my
ministrations, ignoring the continuing stream of words from his mouth, “… pay
another player oh you’re such a good lad here’s another dollar tie him to the
bedpost…” I touched his hand gently and sat him down on the bed, pulling him so
that he lay with his head in my lap.
His eyes shot open after a few minutes, and he grabbed my fingers from his hair,
placing a kiss in the center of my palm. Edward’s lips covered every inch of my
hand, and my heart stuttered. Broken sobs escaped me as I realized this had to
be my Edward. Even in this frightening state, he affected me more than any other
man.
His mouth soon tired of my hand and began moving up my arm, licking and
sucking along the bare skin. It felt so good, and I had been waiting so long for
proof of his affections, but not like this. I yanked my hand away from his willing
lips, tears running freely down my face.
For a moment I saw my Edward, staring up at me with confused and rejected
eyes. But the glaze soon overtook them and the muttering continued, “… sick
with witches’ covens craving for a raw meat…” He sat up off the bed and resumed
his jittering on the floor, grabbing the fallen sketchpad and picking up where he
left off. I just cried on his bed, too shaken to stay, but too terrified to leave. If he
hurt himself… I couldn’t think of it.
So I stayed, watching with a heavy heart as he mumbled and sketched,
occasionally stopping to down a water bottle or to run to his adjacent bathroom,
but always returning in the same manic state. It wasn’t until hours later, when he
calmed and eventually passed out on the floor that I let myself give into my
exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep on Edward’s bed.
Before this, I had justified the rumors. Edward was shy, and difficult to talk to at
first. Years at a school where children mocked you for being strange and
psychotic could easily explain his frosty exterior. Also he was adopted, so maybe
the rumors came from his birth parents, or perhaps a troublesome childhood. I
didn’t believe there was something actually wrong with him. He was just
misunderstood.
But something was horribly wrong with Edward Masen. Something that had
nothing to do with the drugs or the gossip or his family.
And I had no idea what to do.
Chapter 1 – Insulté
Bella
September 4
I slammed the door of my old red Chevy truck, gripping the handle when my feet
slipped on the rainy ground. It was rarely wet like this in Phoenix, and it was
never this humid. I glanced around to the other girls in the parking lot, shocked
at how many had styled their hair this morning. I knew the damp weather would
flatten and frizz my hair in minutes, so I didn’t see the point. It’s not like I was
trying to get anyone’s attention anyway.
Junior year was a terrible time to move. And I was already a day late for school,
thanks to problems with paperwork. These other students had known each other
possibly since childhood, and I doubted many were looking for new friends. I’d
left my few friends back in the sun of Arizona, along with my best friend: my
mother.
But none of that mattered now. Dwelling on my real home would only bring me
sadness, and make this day harder. Charlie had been nothing but sweet to me
since I’d returned to him. Like me, Charlie didn’t wear his heart of his sleeve, but
I knew he was happy I was in Forks. He’d been alone for a long time.
I locked the driver’s side door with my key and headed towards the building,
which loomed threateningly under the gray sky. This town felt like a bad horror
movie. All we needed was some lightening, maybe some fog, and we’d be golden.
I was especially careful with my steps, not wanting to embarrass myself in front
of these strangers. My hands pulled open the heavy door and I relished my small
victory. No slips or falls. But my mood fell again when I looked at my schedule
and around the lobby, and realized I had no idea how to get to homeroom.
“Need some help?”
My eyes searched around and settled on a blonde boy who was staring at me
eagerly. He was medium height with a boyish face, completely non-threatening in
appearance. I nodded slowly, biting my lip to avoid speaking just yet.
The boy’s eyes shot to my mouth and then back to my face. A smile lit up his
features, and I relaxed. He seemed friendly enough and I needed some help.
“Yeah, I don’t know how to find my classroom.”
He took a step toward me, and grabbed the wrinkled schedule from my hands.
His blue eyes lit up in recognition. “This is right next to my homeroom. Mind if I
walk you there?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the stupid question. Of
course I didn’t mind. I was lost.
We moved down the hallway slowly and he glanced at me with that eager look
again. “So you’re Isabella Swan, right? The police chief’s daughter?” I stiffened a
little. I should have known the arrival of a new girl in Forks would be cause for
discussion.
“Yeah. Bella. Call me Bella, please.” My left fingers twisted my hair, a nervous
habit I’d had since I was a child. He gave me that weird look again and I stopped,
letting my hands fold in front of my chest.
“Sorry,” he smiled, picking up my discomfort, “I didn’t mean to make you feel
awkward. You’re just… very pretty. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Why he thought that would make me more comfortable, I will never know. A
telltale blush warmed my face and I stared down at my feet. The boy coughed
nervously. “Now, Bella, there are a few things you should know about Forks. You
know, to save yourself from social suicide.” He laughed at his own joke, and then
continued, “My friends and I are the best kids at this school. The guys and I are
on the football team together,” he boasted, which was very caveman of him. I
wondered how much longer it would take to get to my classroom. “I’ll definitely
save you a seat a lunch so you can meet them.” He nudged my shoulder with his
own, and I fought back my flinch.
“We all go to Ray’s Diner up on Main Street at least once a week, and you’re
welcome to come next time, of course. It’s a big hot spot around here.” That fact
made me want to groan. Could a diner really be the most exciting thing in Forks?
I shuddered at the thought. “There isn’t much shopping here, but Port Angeles is
only an hour away. There’s a pretty cool store there called Necessities &
Temptations. And of course, there’s The Landing Mall.” He fluttered his hands in
an obvious gesture, as if I were familiar with Port Angeles, and knew what he was
talking about.
He continued to ramble until we finally arrived at the classroom, stopping against
the wall before we parted ways.
“And the most important thing, Bella,” he pointed a finger at me affirmatively,
and I felt like a scolded child. It was ridiculous. “I promise you this. The most
important thing is that you avoid Edward Masen. The kid is psychotic.”
I frowned, immediately feeling sympathy for the boy who had been singled out
before I even met him. That didn’t seem fair. “You know that’s a hefty accusation
for me to believe considering I don’t even know your name.” He sensed my harsh
tone and his eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh, shit, I’m so stupid.” He smacked himself lightly on the side of the head,
trying to be endearing. “I’m Mike Newton.” Mike stuck his hand out for a tentative
handshake. I sighed and then took it, grinning slightly at the bright smile on his
face. The boy had been nice, if a bit enthusiastic, and it wasn’t right to keep a
grudge over a person I’d never met. For all I knew, this Edward could be
psychotic, and Mike was only looking out for me.
The warning bell rang and Mike jumped slightly. “Well, that’s my cue. Please take
my word on Masen. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” I nodded in resignation,
“If I don’t see you in class, I’ll see you at lunch.” He winked at me, which was
rather obnoxious, and turned to his classroom next door. I took a deep breath,
and entered room 176.
Most of the students were already seated, and I only noted two empty chairs.
One was in the corner, surrounded by three talkative boys, and the other was
next to a small quiet girl and between two kids who were asleep on their desks.
The second option was infinitely more appealing. I slid into my chair, pulled out
my book and began to read, figuring if I kept my attention focused elsewhere,
people would leave me alone. The teacher called roll, going through the list
alphabetically. A minute or two later, she got to me.
“Isabella Swan?” I raised a shaky hand, and tried desperately to ignore the stares
of my new classmates. They didn’t look away until morning announcements
began, and I’m sure my face was bright red. I glanced up from my book and to
the desk next to mine, where the small, dark haired girl was peering at me
curiously.
She seemed harmless enough so I gave her a small smile. I needed to know
some people here, I guess. Maybe she knew Mike.
“Hi, I’m Bella.”
The girl giggled, “Believe me, I know. You’re the talk of the town, and I can see
already how much that’s going to bother you.” I chuckled and nodded, folding my
book closed. “I’m Alice Brandon. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
The student body’s familiarity with me was unsettling. Maybe Charlie was more
excited to have me here than I originally thought, and had told the town the good
news. I’d be sure to rib him for it later.
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