seen　grizzlies　pretty　close　up　in　Yellowstone；　but　they　had　nothing　on　this　brute。〃　His　hair　was　matted；
  and　his　clothes　looked　like　they'd　been　on　his　back　for　more　than　a　few　days。　Fresh　from　the　mountains。
  〃Not　a　chance。　Black　bears　don't　get　that　big。　The　grizzlies　you　saw　were　probably　cubs。〃　The　second
  man　was　tall　and　lean；　his　face　tanned　and　wind…whipped　into　an　impressive　leathery　crust。
  〃Seriously；　Bella；　as　soon　as　these　two　give　up；　I'm　closing　the　place　down；〃　Mike　murmured。
  〃If　you　want　me　to　go…〃　I　shrugged。
  〃On　all　fours　it　was　taller　than　you；〃　the　bearded　man　insisted　while　I　gathered　my　things　together。　〃Big　as
  a　house　and　pitch…black。　I'm　going　to　report　it　to　the　ranger　here。　People　ought　to　be　warned—this
  wasn't　up　on　the　mountain；　mind　you—this　was　only　a　few　miles　from　the　trailhead。〃
  Leather…face　laughed　and　rolled　his　eyes。　〃Let　me　guess—you　were　on　your　way　in？　Hadn't　eaten　real
  food　or　slept　off　the　ground　in　a　week；　right？〃
  〃Hey；　uh；　Mike；　right？〃　the　bearded　man　called；　looking　toward　us。
  〃See　you　Monday；〃　I　mumbled。
  〃Yes；　sir；〃　Mike　replied；　turning　away。
  〃Say；　have　there　been　any　warnings　around　here　recently—about　black　bears？〃
  〃No；　sir。　But　it's　always　good　to　keep　your　distance　and　store　your　food　correctly。　Have　you　seen　the
  new　bear…safe　canisters？　They　only　weigh　two　pounds…〃
  The　doors　slid　open　to　let　me　out　into　the　rain。　I　hunched　over　inside　my　jacket　as　I　dashed　for　my　truck。
  The　rain　hammering　against　my　hood　sounded　unusually　loud；　too；　but　soon　the　roar　of　the　engine
  drowned　out　everything　else。
  I　didn't　want　to　go　back　to　Charlie's　empty　house。　Last　night　had　been　particularly　brutal；　and　I　had　no
  desire　to　revisit　the　scene　of　the　suffering。　Even　after　the　pain　had　subsided　enough　for　me　to　sleep；　it
  wasn't　over。　Like　I'd　told　Jessica　after　the　movie；　there　was　never　any　doubt　that　I　would　have
  nightmares。
  I　always　had　nightmares　now；　every　night。　Not　nightmares　really；　not　in　the　plural；　because　it　was　always
  the　same　nightmare。　You'd　think　I'd　get　bored　after　so　many　months；　grow　immune　to　it。　But　the　dream
  never　failed　to　horrify　me；　and　only　ended　when　I　woke　myself　with　screaming。　Charlie　didn't　come　in　to
  see　what　was　wrong　anymore；　to　make　sure　there　was　no　intruder　strangling　me　or　something　like
  that—he　was　used　to　it　now。
  My　nightmare　probably　wouldn't　even　frighten　someone　else。　Nothing　jumped　out　and　screamed；　〃Boo！〃
  There　were　no　zombies；　no　ghosts；　no　psychopaths。　There　was　nothing；　really。　Only　nothing。　Just　the
  endless　maze　of　moss…covered　trees；　so　quiet　that　the　silence　was　an　uncomfortable　pressure　against　my
  eardrums。　It　was　dark；　like　dusk　on　a　cloudy　day；　with　only　enough　light　to　see　that　there　was　nothing　to
  see。　I　hurried　through　the　gloom　without　a　path；　always　searching；　searching；　searching；　getting　more
  frantic　as　the　time　stretched　on；　trying　to　move　faster；　though　the　speed　made　me　clumsy…　Then　there
  would　come　the　point　in　my　dream—and　I　could　feel　it　coming　now；　but　could　never　seem　to　wake
  myself　up　before　it　hit—when　I　couldn't　remember　what　it　was　that　I　was　searching　for。　When　I　realized
  that　there　was　nothing　to　search　for；　and　nothing　to　find。　That　there　never　had　been　anything　more　than
  just　this　empty；　dreary　wood；　and　there　never　would　be　anything　more　for　me…　nothing　but　nothing…
  That　was　usually　about　when　the　screaming　started。
  I　wasn't　paying　attention　to　where　I　was　driving—just　wandering　through　empty；　wet　side　roads　as　I
  avoided　the　ways　that　would　take　me　home—because　I　didn't　have　anywhere　to　go。
  I　wished　I　could　feel　numb　again；　but　I　couldn't　remember　how　I'd　managed　it　before。　The　nightmare　was
  nagging　at　my　mind　and　making　me　think　about　things　that　would　cause　me　pain。　I　didn't　want　to
  remember　the　forest。　Even　as　I　shuddered　away　from　the　images；　I　felt　my　eyes　fill　with　tears　and　the
  aching　begin　around　the　edges　of　the　hole　in　my　chest。　I　took　one　hand　from　the　steering　wheel　and
  wrapped　it　around　my　torso　to　hold　it　in　one　piece。
  It　will　be　as　if　I'd　never　existed。　The　words　ran　through　my　head；　lacking　the　perfect　clarity　of　my
  hallucination　last　night。　They　were　just　words；　soundless；　like　print　on　a　page。　Just　words；　but　they　ripped
  the　hole　wide　open；　and　I　stomped　on　the　brake；　knowing　I　should　not　drive　while　this　incapacitated。
  I　curled　over；　pressing　my　face　against　the　steering　wheel　and　trying　to　breathe　without　lungs。
  I　wondered　how　long　this　could　last。　Maybe　someday；　years　from　now—if　the　pain　would　just　decrease
  to　the　point　where　I　could　bear　it—I　would　be　able　to　look　back　on　those　few　short　months　that　would
  always　be　the　best　of　my　life。　And；　if　it　were　possible　that　the　pain　would　ever　soften　enough　to　allow　me
  to　do　that；　I　was　sure　that　I　would　feel　grateful　for　as　much　time　as　he'd　given　me。　More　than　I'd　asked
  for；　more　than　I'd　deserved。　Maybe　someday　I'd　be　able　to　see　it　that　way。
  But　what　if　this　hole　never　got　any　better？　If　the　raw　edges　never　healed？　If　the　damage　was　permanent
  and　irreversible？
  I　held　myself　tightly　together。　As　if　he'd　never　existed；　I　thought　in　despair。　What　a　stupid　and
  impossible　promise　to　make！　He　could　steal　my　pictures　and　reclaim　his　gifts；　but　that　didn't　put　things
  back　the　way　they'd　been　before　I'd　met　him。　The　physical　evidence　was　the　most　insignificant　part　of　the
  equation。　I　was　changed；　my　insides　altered　almost　past　the　point　of　recognition。　Even　my　outsides
  looked　different—my　face　sallow；　white　except　for　the　purple　circles　the　nightmares　had　left　under　my
  eyes。　My　eyes　were　dark　enough　against　my　pallid　skin　that—if　I　were　beautiful；　and　seen　from　a
  distance—I　might　even　pass　for　a　vampire　now。　But　I　was　not　beautiful；　and　I　probably　looked　closer　to
  a　zombie。
  As　if　he'd　never　existed？　That　was　insanity。　It　was　a　promise　that　he　could　never　keep；　a　promise　that
  was　broken　as　soon　as　he'd　made　it。
  I　thumped　my　head　against　the　steering　wheel；　trying　to　distract　myself　from　the　sharper　pain。
  It　made　me　feel　silly　for　ever　worrying　about　keeping　my　promise。　Where　was　the　logic　in　sticking　to　an
  agreement　that　had　already　been　violated　by　the　other　party？　Who　cared　if　I　was　reckless　and　stupid？
  There　was　no　reason　to　avoid　recklessness；　no　reason　why　I　shouldn't　get　to　be　stupid。
  I　laughed　humorlessly　to　myself；　still　gasping　for　air。　Reckless　in　Forks—now　there　was　a　hopeless
  proposition。
  The　dark　humor　distracted　me；　and　the　distraction　eased　the　pain。　My　breath　came　easier；　and　I　was
  able　to　lean　back　against　the　seat。　Though　it　was　cold　today；　my　forehead　was　damp　with　sweat。
  I　concentrated　on　my　hopeless　proposition　to　keep　from　sliding　back　into　the　excruciating　memories。　To
  be　reckless　in　Forks　would　take　a　lot　of　creativity—maybe　more　than　I　had。　But　I　wished　I　could　find
  some　way…　I　might　feel　better　if　I　weren't　holding　fast；　all　alone；　to　a　broken　pact。　If　I　were　an
  oath…breaker；　too。　But　how　could　I　cheat　on　my　side　of　the　deal；　here　in　this　harmless　little　town？　Of
  course；　Forks　hadn't　always　been　so　harmless；　but　now　it　was　exactly　what　it　had　always　appeared　to
  be。　It　was　dull；　it　was　safe。
  I　stared　out　the　windshield　for　a　long　moment；　my　thoughts　moving　sluggishly—I　couldn't　seem　to　make
  those　thoughts　go　anywhere。　I　cut　the　engine；　which　was　groaning　in　a　pitiful　way　after　idling　for　so　long；
  and　stepped　out　into　the　drizzle。
  The　cold　rain　dripped　through　my　hair　and　then　trickled　across　my　cheeks　like　freshwater　tears。　It　helped
  to　clear　my　head。　I　blinked　the　water　from　my　eyes；　staring　blankly　across　the　road。
  After　a　minute　of　staring；　I　recognized　where　I　was。　I'd　parked　in　the　middle　of　the　north　lane　of　Russell
  Avenue。　I　was　standing　in　front　of　the　Cheneys'　house—my　truck　was　blocking　their　driveway—and
  across　the　road　lived　the　Markses。　I　knew　I　needed　to　move　my　truck；　and　that　I　ought　to　go　home。　It
  was　wrong　to　wander　the　way　I　had；　distracted　and　impaired；　a　menace　on　the　roads　of　Forks。　Besides；
  someone　would　notice　me　soon　enough；　and　report　me　to　Charlie。
  As　I　took　a　deep　breath　in　preparation　to　move；　a　sign　in　the　Markses'　yard　caught　my　eye—it　was　just　a
  big　piece　of　cardboard　leaning　against　their　mailbox　post；　with　black　letters　scrawled　in　caps　across　it。
  Sometimes；　kismet　happens。
  Coincidence？　Or　was　it　meant　to　be？　I　didn't　know；　but　it　seemed　kind　of　silly　to　think　that　it　was
  somehow　fated；　that　the　dilapidated　motorcycles　rusting　in　the　Markses'　front　yard　beside　the
  hand…printed　FOR　SALE；　AS　IS　sign　were　serving　some　higher　purpose　by　existing　there；　right　where　I
  needed　them　to　be。
  So　maybe　it　wasn't　kismet。　Maybe　there　were　just　all　kinds　of　ways　to　be　reckless；　and　I　only　now　had
  my　eyes　open　to　them。
  Reckless　and　stupid。　Those　were　Charlie's　two　very　favorite　words　to　apply　to　motorcycles。
  Charlie's　job　didn't　get　a　lot　of　action　compared　to　cops　in　bigger　towns；　but　he　did　get　called　in　on　traffic
  accidents。　With　the　long；　wet　stretches　of　freeway　twisting　and　turning　through　the　forest；　blind　corner
  after　bl