THERE 's a memory keeps a-runnin'
Through my weary head to-night,
An' I see a picture dancin'
In the fire-flames' ruddy light;
'T is the picture of an orchard
Wrapped in autumn's purple haze,
With the tender light about it
That I loved in other days.
-The Old Apple Tree by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Where the Wild Apples Grow
Chapter Thirteen: In Which She Falls

I breathed in the fresh September air. It was a bit chilly out; not so cold as to warrant a winter jacket, but not so warm that I could go sleeveless. Instead, I was wearing a plain grey long sleeved t-shirt and some very old jeans. I was also wearing my old hiking boots that I had unlaced. My feet felt loose in them.

It was Sunday, which meant that Aunt Esme and Alice had gone to church. My mother and I, of course, had stayed home, citing the fact that we were still tired from moving here and such. I said that I still had some homework to be done that would take all day. Aunt Esme said nothing, even though it was the first week of school, and it was doubtful that they would assign such a huge "project" so quickly.

Alice, however, just gave me a disappointed look. She didn't say anything either, but I could tell that she was a bit upset. I wondered how she came to care for me so quickly in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it was because we were family, and families had this special connection where you could love someone immediately, without having to think about it.

I was walking to the back of the orchard, to my tree. I tried to keep my hopes that I would see Edward there down. After all, he went to church like Aunt Esme and Alice. In fact, he went to the same church as them. I wondered if he believed in any of it…

In case he was there, I hid behind the tree where I was last night. I slowly peeked around the corner. When I saw no sprawling form, I felt like an idiot. Rolling my eyes, I went over to my tree. The breeze gently lifted my air from my face. It was so quiet out here. I closed my eyes and listened to the leaves brush against each other. So calm, so peaceful.

How anyone could live in a city was beyond me.

I licked my dry lips and opened my eyes. I let out sigh. This place was so beautiful. I could almost imagine my dad growing up here. Perhaps he even sat under this same tree…

I wiped away some tears.

It seemed as if I cried all the time now. It was like my throat was set on permanent heavy-throat mode; the feeling when you get when you know you're about to cry.

But I shouldn't cry in a place like this. It was too…cheerful here. Too happy. This was no place for tears. Sighing, I looked up at the tree. I bit my lip, looking at the nearest branch. How was it that I did it again?

I jumped up as high as I could. Quickly wrapping my arms around the branch – muttering a curse as I did so – I pushed off the bark and pulled myself completely up. Despite the chill, a sweat broke out on my forehead.

I vowed one day I would be able to do this perfectly, without breaking a sweat or hurting myself. I pulled off the gloves and rubbed my hands together, to try and soothe the pain. After a couple minutes, I put them back on and finished climbing the tree all the way to the top.

I pulled out the apple I had in my shirt pocket. It was all smushed, and the juice was leaking out and staining my shirt, but I ate it anyway. Letting out a light moan in anticipation, I took a big bite. Juice spilled out on my mouth, and I wiped it away with my sleeve.

Apples, apples. How could I have ever not loved you before?

Of course, those apples weren't Aunt Esme's apples. It seemed like you could feel the love of Aunt Esme in them. I don't know. But they had something in them that made them…special. I took another large bite and looked out over the farm beside me.

The grass seemed browner today, and a bit shorter. I wondered if whoever lived there had cut the it recently. Taking another thoughtful chew, I pushed back some of the hair falling in my face.

I saw something out of the corner of my eye then. Sure I had imagined something, I squinted. I could vaguely make out a black, moving shape. It was coming in this direction. My breath caught. I slithered down a few branches, rolling my eyes when I dropped my half eaten apple onto the ground. I vowed I would stop doing that as well.

Peeking out through the branches, I saw the black figure pick up speed. What was it? A wolf? Some sort of cow? The farmer himself? As it came steadily closer, I saw a flash of red, before it disappeared behind some trees.

My heart sped up; was that Edward? It kinda looked like him.

I moved out a little farther on the branch. It creaked ominously, but I had to see if it was him.

But then he came out through some of the trees to the right of me. Shrieking in fright and surprise, I lost my grip on the limb and began to fall towards the ground. I desperately reached for branches as I fell, and I caught one, barely. I felt my skin rip as it began to bleed.

I heard him come closer, around to my side of the tree. He was out of breath, I could tell.

When he saw me hanging by a limb (excuse the pun), he dropped the stuff he was caring and yelled out, "Are you alright?"

I almost started to laugh. "No. I'm not."

"Do you need me to catch you?"

The thought of Edward touching me...my arms around his neck...close enough to kiss made me blush.

When that thought entered my mind, I almost slipped. I heard him hiss.

"Careful," he called out.

I sighed; my fingers were beginning to burn from holding onto the branch for so long. "Alright, I'm going to let go on the count of three."

"Okay." I glanced down; his arms were ready to catch me. "One…two…three."

And then I was falling. For a second, all I felt was terror and ultimate exhilaration – I assumed that's how I would feel if I could fly. But then I crashed into Edward, who, struggling to hold me, fell to the ground. I landed heavily on top of him, my face right in his face.

I felt the breath leave me. He started coughing. Grimacing, I rolled over off of him and started brushing leaves off of my clothes.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized over and over again as he slowly stood up. He held out his hand, telling me to stop talking. I shut up immediately.

"What were you doing up there?" he asked, rubbing his nose.

I blushed. "Thinking." I shuffled my feet on the ground. "And eating apples."

He hmphed and sat down on the roots; he didn't say anything.

I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do. He patted the spot next to him and I sat down cautiously.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying not to stare when he took his black-and-white plaid jacket off, and saw that all he had underneath was a plain white t-shirt. He checked out his arms and rolled up his sleeves.

I had to hold back a gasp. He had muscles.

Now I could never be able to talk to him ever again.

They looked so foreign; it was like I had never seen a boy's arm before. And I hadn't...at least, not like this.

I averted my eyes.

"I'm fine. A little sore, but fine." He rubbed his neck awkwardly.

After a few minutes of silence, I stood up. "I should be going back to the house. Aunt Esme and Alice will be here soon, and they'll be wondering where I am."

He looked up from where he was staring at the ground. "You can stay. I mean, you live here. And you were here first."

"Well, you came here to be alone. Plus I fell on you." I started to stand up again and brushed off the leaves.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he shut it. "I guess I'll see you at school then."

"Yeah." I started blushing again. "See you later."

He nodded and reached into his jacket pocket and got out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I almost said something myself, but I figured I owed him to not lecture him on the benefits of not smoking.

Once I was out of sight of the tree, I ran as fast as I could back to the house. Aunt Esme and Alice weren't home yet, but they would be soon – probably in a couple of minutes. I went through the back door, letting it slam behind me, and went up to my bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and threw myself on the bed.

I buried my face in my pillow and screamed; whether it was in embarrassment…or something else entirely, I didn't really know.

I had regained most of my composure by dinner time, but I still felt a little out of sorts. My hands were shaking as I passed the salt shaker over to Alice, who glanced at me curiously before continuing to regal us with her story about what embarrassing happened at church earlier that day.

Two of the people at the table where inactive participants in listening – myself and my mother. I was still lost in memories of talking to Edward, and my mother was in her own little world of numbness. She ate her food – the little that she did – mechanically. Our extended family didn't seem to notice our preoccupation.

It made me feel frustrated with myself.

Why couldn't my mother and I be ourselves again? The ones who were happy, and who didn't feel like they had big, huge holes ripped right through their chests? The ones who could smile and laugh without feeling like they couldn't breathe? What happened to them? Were they locked away in some secret vault inside our hearts, never to be seen again? Would the real Bella and Renee ever come back?

My stomach felt hollower, my chest emptier with each passing thought.

Would I ever be normal again?

Heavy thoughts for such a light atmosphere. I carefully put my fork down and wiped my mouth with a napkin.

I had to clear my throat before I spoke. "I'm done. May I go upstairs?"

Aunt Esme and Alice turned to face me at the exact same time; I felt my face flush.

"You hardly ate your fish," Aunt Esme commented mildly.

"I don't really feel all that hungry." I couldn't look right at her as I spoke; I directed my attention to her forehead. "I had a big lunch."

"I didn't see any dishes in the rack."

I was beginning to feel irritated. My depressing thoughts and Aunt Esme's interrogation weren't really helping my mood.

"I had some cereal bars and chocolate chip cookies," I added quickly. "And some apples."

The thought of apples led to thoughts of Edward –running home on Friday, his pants falling down slightly; his arm muscles in a tight white t-shirt…I swallowed.

Aunt Esme gave me a long look. "Alright. But I want to talk to you after the dishes are done."

I nodded quickly and pushed back my chair. "Thanks for dinner, Aunt Esme." I pushed my chair back in, ran down the hallway, and up the stairs. After changing into my pajamas, I threw myself onto my big bed and settled myself comfortably so that I was watching the shadows dance on the ceiling.

Later than I would have expected, Aunt Esme knocked on my door. I knew it was her; she had a gentle knock, hesitant yet firm. I called out for her to come in, sitting up against my pillows. She smiled as she entered and climbed up on my bed.

I struggled to think about what looked different about her, and then realized that she was wearing her pajamas, and her hair was back in a ponytail – unusual, because she normally wore it loose. She gave me another smile, wrapped her arms around herself as if chilly, and started to talk.

"Bella, I'm not going to treat you like a little kid, so I'm going to be frank." Her voice in the stillness of my room startled me, but she ignored that and got straight to the point. "I want you to tell me why you're not eating."

There was a beat of silence before I replied with a flat denial.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She gave me a look. "Your mother might not be aware of it, but I am. You're becoming a skeleton. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

I thought unwillingly of my reflection in the mirror – boney and thin. Like something was eating me from the inside out. And maybe, in a dark twisted way, something was – my loss.

But I didn't say anything.

Aunt Esme's face was soft, but her eyes were hard. "You have noticed then." She looked me right in the eyes. "Bella, I know you're missing your dad." Here she coughed, and when she looked back at me, tears were in her eyes. "I am too. He was my brother. You don't think I miss him too?"

Tears filled my eyes as well.

I was so selfish. All this time, I had been thinking about myself and my mom – not giving a thought to Aunt Esme, who had just lost her only sibling, had to take care of all of us, and still work the orchard all the while nursing her own private grief.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not taking care of myself. I'm still eating. I'm still breathing. I still need to take care of things, because right now, I'm alive. I have responsibilities, obligations. As do you. You have school, your mom. She still needs you, you know." Here, her eyes looked away from me, at her feet. "Sometimes, the only way I can get up in the morning is because of Alice. I know it's the same with your mother, but with you in mind."

My body started to shudder with suppressed sobs. Aunt Esme still didn't look up. I wondered how hard this was for her, and I felt tears fall for her pain.

Now she looked back at me, her eyes red. There was such compassion there, that I couldn't help it – I burst into sobs like a little baby who needed comfort. I crawled over to her, not caring I probably looked like a little child. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder when I buried my face in her soft pajama sleeve. I knew snot was coming out of my most, but, again, I didn't really care.

Finally, someone who would share with me. Someone who knew.

Incoherent words were coming out of my mouth.

But I finally managed to say something articulate. "I…don't…because…I'm…alive…and…he's…dead. Dead. Dead. Why…should…I…be…able…to…eat?"

"Oh, sweetie," Aunt Esme shhed me. I could feel her own tears fall on my hair. "I'm so sorry. So sorry. Darling. Shhh. Shhh."

Eventually, I cried myself out. I pulled away, embarrassed. I wiped my nose on my arm, feeling my face flush.

"Sorry." My voice was husky. "That won't happen again."

"Bella, if you ever need a good cry, you come to me, okay? Don't keep it bottled up. It'll hurt you that way."

I rubbed my eyes, exhausted.

"Do you want me to tuck you in?" she asked, looking at me worriedly.

"No. I'm okay." I gave a brave smile. "I'm all better now. And you're right Aunt Esme – I should eat more. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She stood up and gave me a little kiss on the forehead. "Never sorry." She turned around and closed the door behind her. I was glad she knew not to shut the lamp light off, so I wouldn't be alone in the dark.

I could barely wake up the next morning. It felt like my eyes were sealed shut. I rolled over onto my side, not wanting to leave my little cocoon of warmth. But urgent thoughts of seeing a certain someone at school, made me moan in defeat and sit up in my bed. I pushed back my hair off my face and slid out of bed. I stumbled over to my dresser and put on the first things I saw, not caring if I looked ridiculous.

I put my hair back in a sloppy ponytail – and when I mean sloppy, I mean hair strands falling out and the band about to come out of my gathered hair. When I passed the mirror, my work boots clomping the whole way, down the hallway I grimaced at my reflection. My hair was greasy because I hadn't washed it, and my face was ghostly pale.

Closing my eyes, I turned away from the mirror and went downstairs.

The smell of bacon permeated the air. I took in a deep breath. My mind wandered back to what Aunt Esme said last night, something that struck a chord with me.

"I'm still eating. I'm still breathing. I still need to take care of things, because right now, I'm alive."

Right. So that's what I'd do. I'd have a few pieces of bacon, and later, some lunch.

I would be alright.

Thank you all for reading and waiting for this update! I really appreciate all the reviews you have given me!

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