Disclaimer

Twilight and all affiliated characters are the property of Stephanie Meyer. I do not own any of the aforementioned characters except Beth and the plot of this story (that is, should it stray from the original Twilight). This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line. I am not in any way, shape, or form benefiting financially from the publishing of this story on this site and am very grateful for Mrs. Meyer's creation. Besides, if I did own Twilight, I'd be skinny dipping in Bora Bora.

As Beth stood beneath the streaming water of the shower, she felt the weight of her emotions pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. The water droplets cascaded over her body, each one feeling like a touch of ice and fire against her skin. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the world as the turmoil within her surged to the surface.

Thoughts of Edward and Bella swirled in her mind, a tempest of memories, regrets, and longing. The image of Edward's topaz eyes, so intense and haunting, seemed to pierce through the veil of her thoughts. The way he had held her, the touch of his lips against hers, all felt like phantom sensations haunting her senses. It was a reminder of a love she could never fully embrace, a love that had been ripped away by circumstances beyond her control.

And then there was Bella—her twin sister, her other half. The bond between them had been strained, and Beth's heart ached with the knowledge of the pain she had caused by keeping the truth hidden. The memory of Bella's tear-filled eyes and the hurt in her voice as they argued echoed in her mind, a sharp ache that twisted within her chest.

As the water ran down her face, it mixed with her own tears, the salty rivulets merging and becoming indistinguishable from one another. The sound of her own choked sobs was muffled by the steady rush of the water, a symphony of sorrow that enveloped her.

When she finally stepped out of the shower, her body felt heavy and drained, as though the weight of her emotions had left her physically exhausted. She wrapped herself in a towel, her reflection in the fogged-up mirror a distorted image of vulnerability. Her brown hair clung to her wet skin, a reminder of the past that she wanted to shed like a snake shedding its old skin.

As she stood before the mirror, her eyes locked onto the hair clippers that lay on the bathroom counter—an unexpected impulse, born from the desperation to gain some semblance of control over her tumultuous feelings. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the clippers, her heart racing in her chest.

With each pass of the clippers through her hair, she felt a mixture of trepidation and liberation. The familiar strands of brown hair fell to the ground, a symbol of the old self she was leaving behind. She could almost hear the buzzing of the clippers echoing in her ears, drowning out the cacophony of emotions that had been building up inside her.

Tears streamed down her face once more, mixing with the fallen hair, a poignant release of pent-up sorrow. With each snip of the clippers, it felt as though she was shedding not only her hair but also the weight of her past regrets, the tangled threads of her emotions.

When it was done, when the last strand of hair had fallen, Beth stared at her reflection—a face framed by a buzzed head, a stark departure from the identity she had known. In the aftermath of her impulsive act, a sense of catharsis washed over her, as though she had finally purged herself of the pain and confusion that had been gnawing at her insides.

She wiped away her tears, her fingers trembling slightly. The mirror reflected a girl who had undergone a transformation, a girl who had taken a drastic step to free herself from the grip of her own emotions. With a mixture of uncertainty and newfound resolve, Beth left the bathroom, her bare scalp a testament to her inner turmoil and the strength she had found to face it head-on.

Charlie entered the house, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion after a long day at work. He hadn't expected anyone to be home yet, but the familiar scent of dinner cooking wafted through the air, telling him that Beth must have decided to prepare something for the family.

His weariness lifted slightly as he looked forward to a peaceful evening, but that sense of calm quickly shattered as he entered the living room and spotted Beth standing there. His eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat, as he took in the sight before him.

Beth turned to face him, her once flowing brown hair replaced by a buzzed head—a stark contrast that was impossible to ignore. The air seemed to grow heavier with the weight of unspoken words, and Charlie's throat tightened with a mixture of surprise and concern. He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice, but the words eluded him.

"Hey, Dad," Beth greeted, her voice almost too casual, as if she were trying to downplay the significance of her drastic change.

Charlie's brows furrowed, and he took a hesitant step forward, his eyes never leaving her altered appearance. He struggled to form coherent thoughts, his mind racing to catch up with the unexpected sight before him. It was as if he were seeing his daughter in a completely new light, and he wasn't sure how to react.

"Hey," he finally managed, his voice quieter than usual, tinged with a mixture of bewilderment and worry. He cleared his throat again, trying to collect his thoughts. "What... happened to your hair?"

Beth's gaze shifted, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. "I... I shaved it," she replied, her words measured but her expression hinting at a deeper turmoil that lay beneath the surface.

Charlie took another step forward, his concern deepening. "Why?"

Her shoulders lifted in a faint shrug, but it held more weight than it should have. "Needed a change, I guess."

Charlie's heart ached as he saw the turmoil within her, the emotions she was struggling to contain. He wanted to ask her what was really going on, to offer a listening ear, but he felt the distance between them growing, the gap widened by the secrets she seemed to be holding onto. He forced a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well, you certainly got one," he said, his attempt at levity falling flat in the face of the tension that hung in the air.

Beth offered a small, uncertain smile in return, but her eyes remained closed off and guarded. Charlie took another step closer, his concern for his daughter overpowering his confusion. He reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder before he hesitated, unsure if she wanted comfort or space.

"Are you okay, Beth?" he finally asked, his voice gentle.

She looked at him, and for a brief moment, he saw a vulnerability in her gaze that broke his heart. She shrugged helplessly, turning back to the salmon she was preparing. He wished he could bridge the gap that seemed to be growing between them, to reach out and offer the support he knew she needed. But he also knew that sometimes, teenagers needed space to figure things out on their own terms.

"Okay," he said softly, his gaze never leaving her. "Just know that I'm here if you ever want to talk."

Beth managed a small, appreciative smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thanks, Dad."

As Charlie left the room, his footsteps carried the weight of his concerns with him. He hoped that one day, Beth would find the strength to open up to him, to share whatever was burdening her heart. Until then, he would be there, watching and waiting, ready to offer his support whenever she was ready to accept it.

After dinner Beth crawled into bed, her body exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift into a restless sleep. The echoes of farewells and heartache still lingered, but for now, she sought solace in the oblivion of slumber.

The next day came like a shock as Bella walked through the hallway of their home, her mind occupied by the events of the day, she turned the corner and nearly collided with Beth on her way to the shower. Her steps faltered, nearly tripping, and her gaze immediately locked onto her sister's changed appearance. The sight of Beth's buzzed head struck her like an electric current, causing her to stop in her tracks.

Bella's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in surprise and alarm. The air seemed to thicken around her as she took in the drastic change that had been made to Beth's once flowing brown hair. The way the strands had been shorn off, leaving behind a buzzed surface, sent a jolt of uncertainty through Bella.

For a moment, the sisters locked eyes, and in that unspoken exchange, Bella could sense a tumult of emotions swirling within Beth. The connection between them felt almost electric, and Bella's heart ached with the need to reach out, to understand what had led to this change, and to offer whatever support her sister might need. But she was still raw from everything that had occurred between them and in her hesitance, the moment passed. Beth turned away, continuing on her way without a word. Bella's lips parted and it was as if the words were caught in her throat, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to have extended between them.

After a long, silent beat, Bella exhaled a shaky breath and continued down the hallway. She couldn't shake the feeling of alarm that had settled within her. The sight of Beth's altered appearance was like a beacon, urging Bella to reach out, to break through whatever barrier had come between them.

Bella walked downstairs following her bath, where she found her father, Charlie, sitting in the living room. The soft glow of the flatscreen TV illuminated the space, casting a gentle ambiance. A cool beer was in Charlie's hand, and he was sipping it as he watched the news, his brows slightly furrowed.

"Dad," she said, her voice catching his attention as he looked up from the flatscreen.

Charlie used the remote- muting the noise maker before setting it aside, and focused his attention on his daughter. "Yea? What's going on?"

Bella took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on her father's steady gaze. "It's about Beth," she began, her voice quiet but filled with worry. "Did you see what she did to her hair?"

Charlie nodded, concern flickering in his eyes as he scratched his eyebrow at the reminder. " I saw it while she was cooking dinner."

"I've noticed she's been distant lately," Bella poured out in a rush, being careful to censor her words and the secrecy that had to be maintained lest she say something that clued her father into the hidden world of the supernatural. "And I know she's been through a lot, with Edward leaving and everything, but this-it just feels different." Bella continued, her voice tinged with unease. "It just seemed... off."

Charlie nodded, his gaze fixed on a distant point as if he were deep in thought. "You're right, Bella. And it's really concerning that she's not opening up to anyone about it." Charlie placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. " Maybe she just needs some time to come to terms with whatever she's going through. We can give her that."