My legs move forward in a hurried pace, then a dash towards the front doors. It was stuck. How did it get in? I kicked the door open, spraining my ankle in the process. This is something you see almost only in action movies. And they never sprain their ankles doing it. I see the figure standing at the top of the staircase that leads to other, much higher, parts of the house. I race to get it. But I think it's a him. I'm out of breath when I reach a bedroom door . . . Edward's old room. I'm about to open it and peep in, when another door slams shut across from me. That room, I think. I'm apprehensive. Should I or should I not open that door? Who knows what will behind there waiting. Maybe it's my imagination. Maybe it's dream demon. Maybe it's truly nothing and I'm going crazy, and dream demon isn't real, either.
The door opens itself. To reveal nothing. The room is a storage closet, a large one at that. Walls painted white with beautiful Asian flowers and writings decorating them. There are also no windows. Which is strange because the closet itself is big enough for a newborn's bedroom. There are boxes stacked in corners and shelved high above my head. I look through some. They're only pictures and samples of ordinary things. Pictures of me and Edward, Charlie and me. When I went to Jacksonville to visit my mom. My eighteenth birthday, before the chaos happened. Pictures of me and my friends. Pictures of me and Edward standing together hand in hand in the hallways of Forks High School. I was smiling.
The samples took me by surprise. There were bloody cloths and shards of glass that held blood. My blood. I ran my finger across the jagged edges of the glass, the blood smooth and dried. I vision popped into my head: the ballet studio. When James attacked and nearly killed me. This, this is a shard of glass that had been thrusted out of my leg by my own fingers. I throw the shard down. I can't touch it. I can't remember back when my life was truly in danger the first while I knew, or met, Edward. A question lingers in my thoughts. Why would he have saved all the bloody things and glass shards? How did he get the pictures? Why did he want them at all? Edward was officially making my skin crawl.
So shadow man isn't here. Wow. Now I have a "dream demon" and a "shadow man". Who else will I have an encounter with? I go home.
Leaving is necessary.