I was on guard the entire day. Charlie ignored me mostly, lost in a sea of beer. He had found empty beer bottles in the garbage that weren't his, I quickly said, "I think you've had more than what you can remember," I felt wrong for lying. He accepted it. That night, I had laid a kitchen knife on my sink and slashed away at the tiny shards in my arms. It was a bloody mess. It mixed in with water, ran in wet, bloody trails down my arms and off my hands, dripping from my fingertips, and falling to the floor. Blood gathered at my feet. When I was done, I carefully wrapped my arms in a gauze. I went to bed. Alert as usual, but I felt a coldness beside my healing arms. Edward Cullen . . .
And so it was! Instead of forcing him out of my bed, I wanted to force him in my pants. "Oh, Edward! I've been so lost and scared, and since Jake's dead and you've been gone, I just --- just . . . " Words couldn't describe the despair I'd been in. A triangle of fear, gore, and hate I was trapped in. I jumped up and shut my bedroom door. I flung my panties off and up went my shirt. He was cold, both inside me and out. I moaned loudly, but Charlie was on the couch drunk and out of it. We were on the floor for a while. It was painful at first, then the pain turned into pleasure. I'd never had sex before. Each time he entered me, the world fell into a place it hadn't been for a very long time. I let out a low scream. That was as deep he'd ever went tonight.
We were back in bed. I was sweating and shaking. My legs moved without control, my fingers gripped the edges of the bed. I lost my breath for a while. I fell asleep on him, even though he was still inserted in me. Often, he would move about in there and I would moan and gasp softly. I wanted to do bad things then. I raised up to look at him, but it wasn't Edward this time. It was . . . dream demon? Oh my God! What have I done? Given my virtue to a monster! I screamed and pulled away. When I ripped him out of me, blood splattered all over the bed and seeped out from between my bruised and sore legs.
I ran for Charlie. But he was long dead. I screamed as Charlie's eyes opened to reveal dream demon's black eyes . . .
. . . then I woke up. I checked on Charlie, and made sure my legs weren't bloody. No. No sex last night, and no Edward. No me making love to dream demon, and no vampire Charlie. For that, I was thankful. My legs oddly throbbed, though. Maybe I nightmare hard. It's morning. I go down for breakfast and Charlie has a terrible hangover. I give him some water and tell him to lie down and actually get some sleep. I, meanwhile, can't continue to worry and fret over dream demon. I head out. Charlie won't care. His only concern now is having no noise in the house. I'm going into the town of Forks.
I find myself standing in front of the Cullens' old home. As I make my way through the grown weeds and grass, I see a dark figure standing in the shadowed halls of the former Cullen household.