Random x reader (BOOK 2)

Edward Cullen x Reader Part 1

(((A/n: this is a cross over with legacies, only years later )))

(Y/n's intro)

My father once told me music wasn't an activity that consisted of noise and patterns, but an instrument that humans created to express what the composer felt from the heart when words abandoned them.
'There was a reason that music is more powerful than words can ever describe it and that it is far mightier than the sword 🗡️ or the pen 🖋️. Because music not only cuts deeper than any blade imaginable, but it opens doors in the darkness when times are tough and when the composer seems to only complicate through song'.

(Y/n Pov)

Which leads me to why I'm walking through the crowded hallways, my head down, eyes lasered focused on the floor. Heading to the one place I call Sanctuary in this purgatory of teenage hormones called Forks Washington High School.
I could easily navigate the halls full of students with my eyes closed because I had one special tool up my sleeve that also helped me keep bellow everyone's radar these days.
I could hear everyone mentally chatting like how everyone verbally speaks all at once during the lunch hour and you can hear all their conversations going on around you if you remained silent.
Mike caught a glimpse of me as I turned a corner down the hallway after I passed him at his designated locker and he called out.
"Y/n, hey how are you-".
He saw I didn't change my speed or indicate that I heard him, which was why he cut himself off as he thought sadly.
'She didn't hear me'.
Eric was beside him so he wacked Mike upside the head as he said aloud.
"Dude.
Leave her alone, can't you see she wants to get to class, education is important you know".
Eric was shacking his head as he thought, going back to getting what he needed from his locker.
'Hopefully Charlie will scare Mike away so I have a shot'.
Mike then said humping at Eric.
"Yeah, but she's involved with school activities like track and pep rallies yet she never talks to anyone".
'Shes been here a Year, it's kind of odd'.
Erics voice was still in hearing rang as I walk walking away.
"Girls will be girls dude".

I rushed into the empty music room, my chest felt like it was being weighed down by rocks and my throat felt like it was caught in a vice-like grip which made it hard to breathe as I fought the tears that were fighting to escape when I heard what Eric thought and said.
When I made it to the stage podium, I dropped my backpack on it carefully and held onto the podium as I left out a silent verbal cry I could hear in my own head, the scream I exhaled the night of the accident a year ago.
A scream that haunts me.
Dad always said that a composer's ability to hear nosie others can't is a gift that helps make great musicians become legends.
Now, the gift was a terrible curse.
Because I couldn't escape that night, and escape the reality I might never see my father again.
The police said his body went missing  at the accident site, and he was declared Dead while I was F***** unconscious in the hospital.
I spent two weeks alone in my own house, waking up, and hoping he would just walk through the door and smile, saying 'I'm home baby girl'.
When I got back to my old school all I got was pity and constant reminders and apologies expressed by my peers and teachers for the loss I suffered.
It just made the notion that I'm alone in this world without my father all the more harder to stomach, especially when I kept having to get up from the couch I wanted to sleep on as I watched my comfert movies when there was a knock on the front door (usually it was the neighbors with food and condolences).
I know what your thinking, what about my mom? Why couldn't I live with her?
I wish I could've lived with her, if I knew where she is.
The thing was Dad said she was in hiding, and all I have of her was a picture, a picture I found in his things when I thought to clean his dirty laundry (doctor called this denial, I called it an activity that allowed me to move around the house and not just grieve on the couch with a pint of ice cream.
Dad always said that I look just like her while I was growing up.
He said she wanted to be there with us, but she didn't want to risk my safety.
My dad always thought ahead in case something happened to him; his asked his old class mate, Charlie swan, to look after me and be my godfather. I called Charlis Uncle Charlie, because he was family despite us not being biologically related.
When Charlie was contacted by a concerned neighbor of mine because I asked her to since I didn't have Charlie's number and I didn't want to be alone anymore (Forever bless Mis Hudson for her kind heart, she was like the grandmother I never had because from what my father tells me, both grandparents on my mother's and dad's side of the family are dead), Charlie drove all the way to California to come and take me home.
I just needed to get away from that place.
Now here I am, one year later in my junior year, hiding away in the music auditorium.
I got my breathing under control as I fought the tears and sat in the empty room.
I didn't have classes until April because I spent the past two weeks, tirelessly completely half of a spring semester's worth of work because the nightmares started again.
Now I could spend my time here, in the auditorium meant to be the stage for forks highs band to practice for school events.
Now it was my safe haven from the constant reminders of what I have to live with outside the double doors.
Once my tears were no longer pushing to escape from my eyes, I took shallow breaths while covering my eyes.
Focusing on something that could take my mind off of the memories of my fellow students thoughts back at my old school, thoughts that we're molding with my new peers thoughts, almost like they were coming from the same source.
They were all thinking about my dad, sad that he died, but some were thinking/thought he didn't die and that he left me behind at the accident sight.
I clasped my hands around one another when I thought back to that night, my father would never leave me, not like that.
'No way my dad would leave me, not while he was pulling me out of the car while bleeding out'.