Twenty-Five - Lynne

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I walked through the halls mindlessly, letting my mind wander to about a hundred different things. I couldn't bring myself to walk to Bella - to tell her to the extent of how sorry I was.

It was unforgivable, what I said. And how much I meant it. How badly I just wanted to smack her across the face - after everything we've been through. Which, is no excuse.

I was the oldest of my family. Even Alexandria, my twin sister. By three and a half minutes. And my mother always invested her trust into me. She told me if I was ever acting like a brat, I'd be treated like a dog. That was her rule. One of her only rules.

But Bella didn't deserve it. I knew she didn't.

"Hey, Bella?" I asked, knocking on her door. There was no answer, not even so much as breathing. I sighed, "Bella, I just want you to know--I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up. I shouldn't have said that shit, and you didn't deserve it. You really didn't. I wish I would've never even opened my stupid mouth. I love you Bella. I love you more than Mommy, I love you more than anyone we've met - you're my baby girl. My only baby girl."

There was still silence, so I gently let out a breath as I opened the door slowly, revealing the large room with Bella hunched over in the middle, tears rolling down her face.

Slowly, she looked up to me, "Lynne. . ." She started quietly, but then stood up to meet me halfway with a hug, "Lynne!" She cried, throwing her arms around my neck and letting her tears fall on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Lynne.. I'm so sorry for being a brat. I'm so sorry for everything." Her voice was delicate and soft, like a kitten.

I pushed her hair down against her back, holding her tight, "It's okay, Bella," I said, picking her up so her legs were wrapped around me, her head planted in my shoulder, "It's not your fault."

She sniffled, "No. It is my fault. I shouldn't have blamed you for Laurel's death. I'm sorry."

Hearing her say that was bitersweet. Nice in the sense she finally forgave me for what happened, but bitter in the way that she began to think it was someone else's fault besides mine.

That was terrifying. Because it was my fault.

I should've kept an eye on her - I should've actually tried to do something more than sit there and hold her tight. I wish I would've done something.

She spoke after a second of nothing besides her cries, "I'm sorry." She whimpered out, letting her eyes flush over like a river.

"Bella, it's not your fault." I repeated.

"It is my fault," she answered, shaking her head.

"Bella--."

"It's all my fault!" She cried out, breathing quietly.

My own breaths turned cold as I held her tight.

I realized that I hadn't made her start loving me - she already was doing that. I realized instead that I had turned her into a monster.

A monster who was slowly falling into its own mind.

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