We’re almost done, people! We’re almost finished with this epic shitpile! There’s only TWO MORE chapters after this one, and I am done with Twilight forevermore! Can I get an amen? AMEN!
So come on. Let’s have an epic bloodbath of dismembered limbs and horrific gore. I’ve fucking waited long enough.
As I drifted, I dreamed.
… of green porcupines pelting me with prunes and citrus-squeezing octopus women. It was weird.
Where I floated, under the dark water,
… did James decide that Bawla should sleep with the fishes? Because I don’t remember any water, dark or otherwise, in the BALLET STUDIO. Or is Smeyer trying to be “arty”?
I heard the happiest sound my mind could conjure up — as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury.
So… babies laughing, kittens mewing, romantic adagios… those aren’t as beautiful as an animalistic snarl?
No, Bella is pretty much comatose from blood loss, but surprisingly she’s totally aware except for the ability to open her eyes. Yes, our heroine is so almost-dead that she can’t open her eyes… but she can clearly and coherently hear everything without fading in and out. Come on, even Westley couldn’t do that, and he’s made of win!
Oh who are we kidding? Bella’s doing this to stay the center of attention.
I was brought back, almost to the surface, by a sharp pain slashing my upraised hand,
So she’s mostly dead and comatose…. but her hand is “upraised”? I think Smeyers is envisioning this whole thing as an arty, poorly-CGIed dream sequence.
And then I knew I was dead.
Because, through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling my name, calling me to the only heaven I wanted.
Excuse me, I have to vomit up everything I’ve eaten for the last two weeks. I also think I just became diabetic. PASS ME A BUCKET, DAMN YOU.
“Oh no, Bella, no!” the angel’s voice cried in horror.
“You can’t die, Bella! I still haven’t gotten laid!”
Wait, if Bella is bleeding all over the place, and Edward is hot for her yummy floral blood… why is he worried about her and not frantically lapping it off the floor? Especially since he’s a selfish ass?
Behind that longed-for sound was another noise — an awful tumult that my mind shied away from. A vicious bass growling, a shocking snapping sound, and a high keening, suddenly breaking off…
It was like that ungodly rock music, but far less violent!
Seriously, THAT was the big epic fight between the Cullens and the Ebil Tracker?!?!?!?! We don’t even get to see them fighting and ripping each other apart?! We just HEAR a few stock violence noises?! What a ripoff! We suffered through all Smeyer’s sexual fantasies about red-haired teenage boys, we got introduced to the worst-developed villain in literary history, we get the wussiest vampires EVER… and we don’t even get a bloodbath of death at the end?! WE HAVE VAMPIRES KILLING VAMPIRES AND WE DON’T GET TO SEE IT?!?!?!?!
I demand violence and gore! I want body parts everywhere! I want glitter blood all over the room! You don’t get to do this, Smeyer! You don’t get to just gloss over that stuff because it’s not “romantic” and shit! If you write a book allegedly about VAMPIRES, even lameass sparkling ones, YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOME VIOLENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!! And after putting up with all this disgusting drooling and mooning after Edward, my brain is practically melted! I want some gore and graphic violence to cleanse my brain!
I tried to concentrate on the angel’s voice instead.
“Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!” he begged.
Don’t worry, Angel-who-is-obviously-Edward, she can hear you perfectly. She can’t open her eyes, but she’s 100% conscious.
Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn’t find my lips.
- … yes WHAT?
- I can’t find Bella’s lips either. Not in the movies, certainly.
“Carlisle!” the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. “Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!” And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
- STOP CALLING HIM AN ANGEL. He’s not. He’s more like Satan’s emo grand-nephew.
- And repeatedly calling your imaginary boyfriend an angel is really, really sappy. It might be fine if she used the word ONCE, but the repeated use of it just makes me want to smack her in her doughy face.
- Just when you thought Edward couldn’t get any LESS manly, he proves you wrong. If he got any less manly, he would be wearing makeup in the mo… uh… he would sparkle like…. umm…. he would be wearing Bella’s underwear and perfume that she never wears because she has the femininity of a lumberjack.
The angel shouldn’t weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Rosalie, take that pillow off her face. You can’t spare the readers from the inevitable sequels!”
There was a point of pressure against my head. It hurt.
I love how vivid her descriptions are. “It hurt” – she writes like Shakespeare!
Then, as that pain broke through the darkness to me, other pains came, stronger pains. I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool.
I thought the disgusting nonsensical birth scene wasn’t until the FOURTH book.
“Bella!” the angel cried.
STOP CALLING HIM AN ANGEL. You know perfectly fucking well who that is, and this is just some warped affectation.
“She’s lost some blood, but the head wound isn’t deep,” a calm voice informed me. “Watch out for her leg, it’s broken.”
And as if BELLA couldn’t get any lamer, apparently she lapses into a coma from a minor head wound and a broken leg. For someone who allegedly suffers life-threatening injuries ALL THE TIME, she’s pretty wimpy! But oh wait, we couldn’t have a melodramatic “please don’t die” scene without Bella passing out, could we?
So Edward starts howling and screaming, Carlisle keeps doing his unemotional “doctor” thing, and Bawla just lies there like a lump thinking about how she hurts too much to be dead. Wow, cliche much?
But the sharp pains were fading. There was a new pain, a scalding pain in my hand that was overshadowing everything else.
Someone was burning me.
“WAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, CARLISLE, ROSALIE’S BEING MEAN AGAIN!”
“Rosalie, stop setting fire to Bella’s clothes. You know she’s so passive that she won’t extinguish herself!”
“Uh, that’s the POINT!”
“My bag, please… Hold your breath, Alice, it will help,” Carlisle promised.
… help WHAT? Block out the lingering stench of bad writing?
Bella keeps whining and screaming about how her hand is burning. But no, she can’t be bothered to open her eyes for real, even though she’s only suffered minor blood loss and a slight cut to the head.
“He bit her.” Carlisle’s voice was no longer calm, it was appalled.
I heard Edward catch his breath in horror.
NOOOOOOOOOO, anything but the Mary Sue being turned into a sparkly speshul snowflake of an immortal hottiepants so she can spent eternity with her boyfriend! NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! Who would have thought that the villainous evil vampire might have actually BITTEN his prey?!?!?! THE HORROR!!!!!!!
“Edward, you have to do it.” It was Alice’s voice, close by my head. Cool fingers brushed at the wetness in my eyes.
I presume they mean turning her into a vampire. So why is Edward bawling like a stupid idiot, especially since she’s already getting vampirized even as we speak? Does he like his sex toys warm and freesia-scented?
“No!” he bellowed.
“Because I’m a whiny twat!”
“Alice,” I moaned.
“Kiss me before I die! Edward sucks at it!”
“There may be a chance,” Carlisle said.
“What?” Edward begged.
“See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean.”
HOLY CRAP, THE FAIL BURNS! IT BURNS SO BAD! Seriously, where do I even start making fun of this?!?!?!
- Since when are vampires SNAKES?
- This FAILS. I mean, it’s total biological fail! I can tell Smeyer knows ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY nothing about the circulatory system. Because here’s a shocking fact for you, Smeyer: blood travels fast. It travels REALLY fast. REALLY REALLY REALLY FAST. According to the bastion of wisdom known as wikipedia, it takes only a matter of seconds for a blood cell to go ALL THE WAY AROUND the circulatory system. It doesn’t just sit there in various body parts and SLOOOOWWWWLLLLY ooze from the extremities to the heart.
- In other words, if there’s vampire venom in her blood… it’s too late! She’s been lying there like a lump for several minutes, meaning sucking on her hand won’t do jackshit. That is why you don’t try to REMOVE poisons, you try to NEUTRALIZE them.
- Also, the biggest problem with poisons is… well, simply that they tend to do their damage before they can be neutralized. So what the hell happens if someone is turning into a vampire but the process is STOPPED partway through? Probably nothing good!
THAT DOESN’T COUNT! Seriously, wouldn’t it mean that parts of you would be “marble” and heavy and DEAD, and other parts would not? It would be a medical nightmare!
“Carlisle, I…” Edward hesitated. “I don’t know if I can do that.” There was agony in his beautiful voice again.
“It’s your decision, Edward, either way. I can’t help you.”
… FUCK YOU, YOU USELESS ASSHOLE! You get down there and suck Bella’s hand like it’s a hot teenage boy! What do you mean, you can’t help him? You’re supposed to be the one totally immune to human blood’s appeal, but you refuse to help someone because you want this indecisive, uncontrollable twit to do it instead?
Wow, here’s a novel idea: why don’t you not declare it “Edward’s decision” and instead declare it BELLA’S DECISION since it’s HER FUCKING LIFE they’re talking about, not Edward’s? But silly me, I forgot that Edward implicitly OWNS Bella and thus gets to decide shit for her unless his perfect family outvotes him.
Also, what the hell kind of doctor is Carlisle?! There’s a person who’s been injected with VENOM that is causing her massive pain and will KILL her. What does he do? He fusses around with a minor cut on her head and tells an unstable untrained idiot who has spent the whole book trying not to suck Bella dry… to suck out the blood in JUST HER HAND. That’s like a brain surgeon deciding that it isn’t his decision to perform surgery, and spending the entire operation trimming the patient’s toenails while forcing her squeamish epileptic boyfriend to do the operation instead.
What, do vampire doctors not bother to take the Hippocratic Oath? BECAUSE THEY’RE TOO SPESHUL?
“I have to get this bleeding stopped here if you’re going to be taking blood from her hand.”
… but don’t put a tourniquet or anything on it. That might actually limit the venom’ circulation. IDIOT.
So after a chapter of just lying there with her eyes closed, Bella finally opens her eyes, mainly because she’s been thrashing around and hurting her broken leg. And since Carlisle is the ONLY person who can possibly make a friggin’ LEG SPLINT, Edward has to start sucking out the poison RIGHT NOW.
“Edward, you must do it now, or it will be too late.”
“Oh wait, she was bitten like ten minutes ago, meaning the poison’s circulated all through her body. I should know that, because I’m a doctor. Yeah, she’s fucked.”
Edward’s face was drawn.
… HOW? If he has hard marble skin, how can it suddenly develop lines?
So Edward starts sucking on her hand. SEX-XXXXXXYYYYYY. And again, Smeyer can’t bring herself to describe pain even though she’s been torturing us with every flutter and sparkle in this book so far. Lady, if you’re so squeamish you can’t bring yourself to describe it… then DON’T WRITE IT IN.
I heard Alice’s voice, trying to calm me.
“Don’t worry, Bella! I foresee that you will be just fine after this!”
“Oops, she’s dead. Uh, she must have changed her mind.”
Something heavy held my leg to the floor, and Carlisle had my head locked in the vise of his stone arms.
So much for this a-hole insisting, “Oooh, I can’t possibly suck the poison out myself. I have to fix her head injury.” Apparently all he’s doing is holding her still, while making Edward do something that would probably kill Bella.
So then Bella stops being in pain, and she starts mewling instead. Guh, why couldn’t they just kill her?
“Edward,” I tried to say, but I couldn’t hear my voice. They could hear me.
“He’s right here, Bella.”
“He’s not answering right now, because he’s brushing the girl cooties out of his teeth.”
“Is it all out?” Carlisle asked from somewhere far away.
“Her blood tastes clean,” Edward said quietly. “I can taste the morphine.”
“But I also had to suck out all the blood too… aw, shit.”
“Bella?” Carlisle called to me.
I tried to answer. “Mmmmm?”
“Is the fire gone?”
“Is the ouchy-booboo gone now, sweetie-tumtum?” Seriously, is it too advanced for you to just say “is it still hurting?” Do you have to really talk down to her?
“Yes,” I sighed. “Thank you, Edward.”
“I love you,” he answered.
“I know,” I breathed, so tired.
Wow, what an original bit of dialogue. I’m sure it’s never been done elsewhere, and certainly never done BETTER.
So then Carlisle remembers that OH YEAH Bella’s mother is supposedly being held captive by the guy who is presumably dead, but I’m not totally sure because we DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING. Bella rambles about how her mom is in Florida and she knows where Alice came from… actually, she’s pretty incoherent. Yeah, she sounds like Stewart here.
“I smell gasoline,” I added, surprised through the haze in my brain.
“Rosalie, I’m serious. Give me those matches.”
So Edward picks up Bawla and carries her… and for the first time in the entire book, there’s actually a semi-legit reason to do so. Blah blah boring fawning over each other, blah blah. I have only two more chapters to go, so the pain is almost over!