A story

My mother had been in love so long, with a man so great. She put all before him, his beauty was beyond comparison, his eyes as deep as the ocean. She had loved him and all that he was, and his story and her story gave life to me. Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan, A fairy tale my mother had fallen in love with. It was the something more she had always yearned for. The something she never found. Something she had always wished for, a love beyond others, something out of this world. Tonight here I am flipping through the pages of a book, to find a man, and a woman who had all there could ever be on earth. The book was written by Stephanie Meyer and I couldn’t put it down. My mother met my father when she moved to forks. Coincidently that is the place where the story was taken place in the book. My mother had loved and adored something so unreal it soon became the basis of her life. She met my father Nathaniel Parson. I can not tell you that my mother had loved him with every inch of her body, but she did love him. They got married over time and had me. Here I am tonight with no one, my mother’s final breath. She died two days ago and the only thing that seems to help me is this book. Twilight, I have found my self to be too much like my mother these days. Obsessed with something that is too unreal. Vampires I can not get my mind away from it. I want to find my own Edward, my own love. I got up from my bed and headed towards the window, pulled it up letting in a gust of wind. It felt great. Cold and icy but great.  I needed it, to get that feeling out. That feeling I have had in my stomach, that burning, aching feeling. That feeling you get when you are alone…
I sat in old rocking chair near the window; I closed my eyes and listened. Listened to the songs carried through the wind, the memories of laughter and the all things I would never hear again.
“Elora Isabella Swan” an elderly voice said “honey are you up here” I didn’t want to answer, I didn’t want to go back to deal with it all. It just seemed easier to stay in my room, and absorb the comfort that it gave me.
“I’m in here” I said amazed at the sound of my voice. It sounded so peculiar to me. I got up and walked out of my room and saw Ms. Raymer, the old woman who I had known since I was born. Time had worn her out, and I could see her eyes were red, she had been crying for mother. She lift her hands to my face and wiped my cheek, I didn’t notice that I was crying. Mothers death had been the last blow, my father had died two years earlier and now this. I walked with Ms. Raymer through the small corridor down the stairs to greet the fellow community that had come out of respect and love for my mother.
“Elizabeth was a great woman, always so lively and sweet, she was the essence of life” a woman standing in the front said. “She was the type of person anyone would love, and she loved life, it was her play ground” the woman’s words cut through me so deep, I couldn’t help but start to weep again. I tried to concentrate on something else. The woman was wearing a long black dress, it had white swirls on the bottom, and it captured my attention. They stayed in a pattern and it suddenly reminded me of the time my mother and I had gone to the art gallery and saw this painting. There were swirls of colors all blended perfectly together. It felt so peaceful, she couldn’t see it. She didn’t see the beauty of the painting, or feel the aura it gave off.
“Elora, do you have anything to say” the woman in the black dress said, looking at me with wet eyes. There was nothing I could say, not that would bring my mother back and I didn’t feel like saying anything. I shook my head and looked down at the floor, so that I didn’t have to look at the eyes of everyone, glaring at me. They didn’t seem to understand I didn’t want to go through this. I walked out of the room, trying not to lock eyes with anyone. I walked into the small kitchen and sat at the table. Everything was still, nothing different, cups had been turned down. Just the way she liked it, the broom sitting in the corner, the counters wiped clean. I look at the back door; her shoes were sitting there unchanged. They same way they always had. I couldn’t deal with it, being in the house made me angry, made me sad. I missed her so much, why did she have to leave.
Soon the sky grew darker and every one left one by one, leaving a dark empty house. I sat on the chair not moving. Just listening to the silence of the house. Tears rolled down my face, for the first time today it really hit me. I was alone. There was no one with me from now on; it was just Elora Isabella Swan, no one else.
Weeks had passed and I couldn’t deal with it, I went about doing my daily routines. Wake up at 6’o clock and get ready. Hop into my old beat up mustang. Try to go through the day without acknowledging the remarks of my peers. I didn’t really have any friends. In school I was the weird child the one who everyone ignored, or picked on. I hated senior year, but at least it was the last. Then I would soon leave…
“One more month” I reminded my self “just one more month”
“Talking to your self again weirdo” another faceless person said, I didn’t see her, or want to. To me she was nothing important or ever would be. The bell finally rung and I left headed for work. I worked at the grocery store in town. Ms. Raymer felt sorry and offered me a job. I spent 5 hours sweeping, restocking and little odd jobs here and there.
“See you tomorrow Bella” she yelled from the back of the store.
“Good bye Ms. Raymer and thanks again” I replied back. I walked out the door. It was raining. Nothing new this place had to be the greenest place I had ever seen. It always seemed to be raining and I disliked it to a great extent. Weeks passed by and each day it grew closer. Finally
“One more week” I said “just one more week” I was finally leaving. I had been in forks for seventeen years now and in one week I was leaving. I had gotten an acceptance letter to a city called Ashland; I got a free scholarship to Ashland University in Delaware. Days passed and boxes began to pile up. I packed away things I would take with me and others things to sell. I needed some extra dough to help fund my trip. My mother’s house was being sold. I had a yard sale selling some furniture and many other things my mother had collected over the years. I got one thousand five hundred dollars selling away memories that would never be forgotten.