𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗;
DOWN SO LOW

— THERE WAS A BRIEF moment when Reese Logan woke up in the morning where she forgot all about the tragedy that struck her family; she didn't feel the weight of the survivor's guilt resting on her chest like a ten ton brick or feel the pain that usually followed after a dream about her parents. She didn't cry silently in bed, waiting for an alarm to tell her it was time to get up. She didn't wish that she had burned along with her mother and father just so she wouldn't have to feel like this. Then, she remembered; like a bolt of electricity sizzling through her skin, the memories returned.

The grey clouds that constantly covered the Forks sky was visible from the window in Flynn O'Connell's luminescent orange painted bedroom (it was this color when I moved in okay Flynn had defended the color when she let Reese in), and Reese found herself staring at them wishing that the sun was there to light the darkness that was rising up from it's designated space in the gaping hole her parent's deaths had left in her heart. Reese sniffled, rubbing at her eyes trying to keep the tears at bay as to not bother her snoring semi-friend. She wished that she was in the bed Elizabeth had given her so that she could cry without the fear of jolting someone awake.

Reese Logan carefully removed the blankets from around her sweat soaked skin and pushed herself off of the bed, she crossed the bedroom trying to keep the floorboards from creaking as she made her way to the window. Quietly, she pulled the glass up to allow a breeze of cool, fresh air to saunter into the room. Reese breathed in deeply, letting the October air calm down her suppressed cries. Part of Reese wished that she was back at Elizabeth's house so that she could go find Poppy and snuggle her soft fur or even listen to the twins' early morning chatter, but the other part that she was away from the empty home for even the shortest amount of time.

A soft knock at the door startled her from her thoughts, and Reese's head snapped over at the entrance surprised to see Beverley O'Connell standing there with a platter and some plates. The woman's face was coated in batter and she held out a plate of pancakes that still had steam rising up from them in an offering of peace for waking them up; they smelled of blueberries and butter and Reese felt her stomach gurgle hungrily at the scent. Flynn was sitting up at that point, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she reached out for the food her mom offered and began stuffing large bites of syrup coated pancake into her mouth. She glanced at the spot beside her and an expression of confusion covered her face when she noticed that Reese wasn't beside her.

"I brought breakfast," Beverley told Reese, spotting her beside the window. "Did you want any?"

"Please," Reese nodded, reaching for the plate the O'Connell woman offered.

"Mornin'," Flynn mumbled turning to face Reese, her words garbled from the food she was chewing.

"Flynn," Beverley chided with a playfully stern look. "Do you have any manners at all?"

"I suppose I have a few," Flynn shrugged, a childish glint in her eyes. "I close to toilet lid and I don't burp at the dinner table. I think that's about all the manners I need."

"It's almost like she was raised by wolves," Beverley whispered to Reese, passing her the syrup.

"Well, mom, according to the boys at school I am an animal-"

"I did not need to know that," Beverley groaned, then turned to Reese with a warm smile. "How do you like them?"

Reese swallowed and replied. "They're really good, Mrs. O'Connell, thank you."

Beverley grimaced. "Call me Beverley, anything but Mrs. O'Connell. That's my ex-mother-in-law."

"And God knows how you feel about her, mom," Flynn snorted and then turned to Reese to explain. "My grandma thinks that it's her fault that my bio-dad was a total douche and left-"

"Which it wasn't!"

"He was just a shitty person and Helen can't see past that fact that he was her baby boy."

"She's still your grandmother, Flynn, at least try to be nice," Beverley pleaded with a stern expression. "And she likes you kids."

"Thank God for that," Flynn muttered with a roll of her blue eyes. "Seamus and I think that she's bitter because she knows that she raised a deserter and just doesn't want to admit it, so she blames you. Maeve says she's just a stone cold bitch."

Reese watched their interaction sadly; she recalled the days where she and Mallory would discuss how Paul's parents had blamed her mother for Reese's dad losing his football scholarship because he had to quit so that he could get a job to support the baby that was on the way. Reese had always felt a little responsible for that, but her parents had told her with firm expressions that Reese was to never blame herself for the way Suzanne and Richard Logan treated Mallory.

After the deaths of her parents, Reese had seen the two of them talking with some of Paul's old school friends. They'd been hysterical — which was expected after the unexpected death of their son — but they'd been talking about how much they had loved Mallory and that they just couldn't believe that she was just gone. They'd quickly shut up when Mitch — Paul's best friend — had reminded them how they'd treated the beautiful blonde when she'd fallen pregnant with their daughter. They'd left shortly after that without so much as a goodbye to Reese or the twins. Personally, Reese was glad to have them out of her life; they looked at her with such contempt sometimes it surprised her.

"My grandparents didn't like my mom either," Reese finally spoke, feeling her throat tighten at the mere mention of Mallory's title. "She had me when she was still in high school and they blamed her for the fact that my dad didn't go to college."

"So, in conclusion, paternal grandparents suck everywhere," Flynn said with a snort. "At least you're not alone, mom."

But Beverley O'Connell was, in fact, alone. Mallory was no longer there to share common ground with the woman about their in-laws that had it in for them. Reese chose not to point that fact out, not wanting to make Flynn feel bad.

"What are your plans for today, girls?" Beverley questioned, taking notice of the way Reese was beginning to close up.

"Dunno," Flynn shrugged. "After I drop off Reese I have to go to the library to get a book for a school report and maybe I'll stop at the pet store to buy a new beta fish because I miss Lenard. That's about it."

"Wow," the older woman joked, rolling her eyes playfully. "That sounds absolutely riveting."

"I mean, I suppose we could go smoke some pot on the beach with the stoners, sound like a plan Reese?"

Reese, who wasn't actually listening, just nodded. "Absolutely."

"You remind me of your father so much sometimes and it's making me prematurely go grey," Beverley grumbled.

Reese's gaze flickered over to Flynn, watching her expression carefully at the mention of being compared to the the estranged — and deceased — man that Flynn shared half her DNA with, but the blonde simply belted out a laugh and proceeded to shovel more food into her mouth. Reese was perplexed; she knew that Flynn had said that her father hadn't been a part of her life in years and that Rufus was more of a father to her than her real dad ever was, Reese couldn't fathom someone telling her that she was like Mallory without wanting to at least tear up. But the O'Connell girl was unfazed and unharmed by the words that seemingly rolled right off her shoulders.

Beverley left Flynn's bedroom shortly after that, letting the door shut behind her with a click. Reese turned to Flynn: "Does it bother you, being told you're like him? Your dad I mean?"

Flynn swallowed before answering. "Not really. It's no secret that I'm a little like him sometimes. I mean, I look a lot like him. So does Seamus, actually. Especially our eyes. They're all him. My mom is blonde so it's easy to just say I'm more Beverley than I am him, but the only features that we got from my mom were our lips and noses. Everything else was him. Maeve lucked out, she's a spitting image of our mom when she was younger."

Reese nodded and took a bite of her own food. "Doesn't that bug you?"

Flynn just shrugged. "Yeah, actually, but mostly because it's got to suck for my mom to look at us and constantly be reminded of the man that she had loved that turned out to be a total deadbeat. I've always hated the parts about me that I share with him. Like my chin! I mean, can it be any more witch like! I've always wished I looked more like her, she was stunning when she was my age and I look like a dude with long hair. It really isn't fair."

"I look like my mom," Reese spoke after a short period of time. "Like, exactly like her. Before my granddad died, he used to call me Mini Mal because you almost couldn't tell us apart. My aunt couldn't look at me for the first few days after her death," Reese had to take a few deep breaths after those words before continuing. "She almost called me Mallory once when she'd had a few glasses of wine. I heard her cry that night in her room. When I went to bed that night I wished I looked more like my dad, like the twins, because at least then it wouldn't be so hard for her."

Reese had never shared that with anyone before. Not Elizabeth. Not Annmarie or Taylor. Not even Poppy. She felt so guilty even saying the words she wished she didn't look like her mom because that was all she had of her now, all the twins had of her now: just an older sister who looked too much like the woman who birthed them that they would never get to really know. Flynn just looked at her; there was no clear expression of pity in her crystal eyes — she understood.

"Do you have a picture of her?"

Reese was hesitant to reply because that meant that she would have to open the camera roll on her phone and look at the photo she had taken of the picture hanging on the mantle in the living room. It meant that she would have to see Mallory Logan's warm green eyes staring at her. It meant that Reese would have to remember that those same green eyes were buried six feet under a mound of earth, never to gaze at her children with nothing but pure love. Reese took a deep breath and, with shaking fingers, reached for her bag where her cell phone was and clicked on the photo icon. She scrolled through the ten pictures until she spotted the one of the beautiful woman who had been taken from the world far too soon. She clicked and quickly handed the phone to the awaiting hands of Flynn, not even wanting to see it.

"Wow," Flynn whispered, staring at the image. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah," Reese agreed, holding back sobs. "She was."

Flynn handed her the phone back silently, letting Reese have a minute to compose herself. The Logan girl was struggling not to break down. Talking about her parents — her mother especially — made her want to crumble into a thousand pieces. In the past three weeks since her life had taken a drastic change in the worst way possible, Reese hadn't allowed anyone to know how she was truly feeling. At first it had been for the twins; not wanting them to watch their rock crumble into a thousand pebbles. Then Elizabeth; after all, her aunt lost someone too. But now? Reese wasn't sure. So Reese plastered an empty expression on her face to cover up the pain that was resonating inside of her.

Flynn rolled off the bed, and Reese watched her movements with furrowed brows. The blonde made her way to her dresser rummaging through the assortment of crap that had piled up, only stopping she found what she'd been searching for: a photograph with curled sides and a crease down the middle from having been bent one to many times. Flynn dropped the picture in front of Reese, the girl picking it up to examine it. There was a man in a leather jacket holding a small, blonde, toothless child; he was smiling down at her with what Reese could only describe as pride evident in his clear blue eyes.

"Is this your dad?"Reese asked, glancing up at Flynn.

She nodded. "Yup. Colin O'Connell in all his leather-jacket glory."

"Wow, you really do look a lot like him."

"It's weird right, I'm just him with long hair. Seamus is a spitting image of him too!"

"Yeah," Reese agreed, passing the photograph back. "How lucky are we? Our parent reincarnated. Maybe it's a cruel joke from the universe?"

"I think it's actually called genetics," Flynn joked, nudging Reese's shoulder with her own.

"Ha ha ha," Reese rolled her green eyes. "Have you ever thought of going on to be a stand up comedian with jokes like that?"

"Another joke!" Flynn laughed. "Who are you and what did you do to the Reese Logan I met at Pops?"

Reese didn't know the answer. She still felt the weight of Paul and Mallory's death pressing down on her shoulders, but there was something about Flynn O'Connell that made it easier to bear — like the girl that seemed to be constantly walking on sunshine was taking an ounce of the darkness that Reese carried on her own shoulders. Reese digressed that it was because she had once been where she was; maybe, for Flynn, it wasn't as painful because she hadn't been close to her own father, but she was the only person who treated Reese like a person rather than a porcelain doll that was teetering on the top shelf. Reese didn't know how to get the words out, but she was thankful for the girl.

□ □ □ □ □ □ □ □

— REESE WAS HAVING A nightmare; deep down in her subconscious she knew that it was only her mind reenacting past events and adding a bit of flare, but the girl couldn't help but be terrified. She saw people — she wasn't even sure if people was the right word for it — turning into beasts, almost like enlarged wolves. They snapped their jaws at her — then again, it might not have even been her — and lowered themselves low to the ground as they prepared to attack. Then in a swirl of mist that quickly turned to smoke, Reese discovered that she was burning. Not physically, because she couldn't see any flames licking at her body but she could feel the fire burning through her. Her mouth opened but no screams would escape. Faces flashed in front of her, familiar faces; she saw Emmett Cullen, his face wearing the same worried expression she'd seen at school, he was saying something but Reese couldn't hear. Then she saw her mother, her long blonde hair blowing around her head. She looked young — younger than Reese remembered her being — and one word penetrated the blockade that had built up in Reese's ears: witch.

Reese woke up in a flurry of flailing arms and open mouthed gasps for oxygen. She pulled at the blankets that were sticking to her sweat soaked skin and rushed to her bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she heaved up the dinner Elizabeth had bought from the diner. She was shaking terribly, and Reese took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

"You're fine, Reese," she told herself, repeating the mantra over and over again until had convinced herself that she really was fine.

Reese plucked herself up off the ground once she'd stopped and swished some water around in her mouth before returning to bed. She layed there, staring up at her ceiling wanting nothing more than for it to be the ceiling that belonged in the little house on Sunrise Street. The ceiling that had an assortment of glow stars from when Reese had been scared of the dark and the monster that lived under her bed. A ceiling that was home. She scoffed at her own inner monologue, because missing a fucking ceiling was pretty pathetic and tried to go back to sleep.

Reese closed her eyes, but sleep never came. Whether that was because her mind was too busy stressing about the school day that was to follow or because it was afraid of having another nightmare about burning, she didn't know; but regardless, Reese Logan watched as the sun came up over the mountains and hid behind the clouds that had were brewing a monstrous thunder storm. Her thoughts were moving a mile a minute as she dreaded school that day. She didn't know if she could face Lauren and her followers or even Emmett Cullen — the guilt of how she treated him and the strangeness of her dream making her uneasy. There was also the fact that talking about her mother to Flynn at their sleepover had taken strength that Reese didn't know she needed to function.

Her alarm was still shouting at her angrily, screaming that it was time to get up or she would be late. Reese debated telling Elizabeth that she didn't feel well and that it would probably be best if she stayed home again, but she couldn't hide away forever; it was starting to effect Annmarie and Taylor. The twins had begun following after their older sister and begged Elizabeth to excuse them from school because they couldn't go. At first, their aunt had done as they asked figuring that they just needed some time to heal but then she noticed how terribly being with only themselves was for their mental health. So, begrudgingly, Reese ended the irritating beeping and kicked her sheets off of her body, making her way over to her closet to begin getting ready.

Reese applied an excessive amount of concealer under her eyes in a failed attempt to cover the forming bags that would be like warning bells to her aunt that, contrary to common belief, Reese wasn't okay. She was struggling (like a normal person in her situation would be) but Elizabeth would overreact and probably send her to a therapist or something, and Reese couldn't talk about what she was going through with just any one. Flynn was an exception because she understood how Reese was feeling, maybe not quite to her extent, but the girl could relate and that was enough of a therapist for her.

Reese grabbed her rain coat and backpack then pulled her door open and stepped out into the hall. She dug her fingers deep into her pockets, feeling a sense of relief when she felt the familiar metal feel of her lighter and her handy pack of cigarettes. She'd cut back to only two a day — or when she really needed one — because Annmarie had commented that her clothes smelt a little funny one day, and the last thing Reese needed was Elizabeth getting on her about smoking.

Reese poked her head into the twin's room to make sure they were alright and relaxed a little when she saw them curled up to each other under their mountain of blankets. Poppy perked up when she saw Reese, and jumped off the bed following the teen down the stairs and into the kitchen, running circles around her food bowl until Reese poured a cup of kibble in it. Elizabeth was reading the morning paper and milking a glass of orange juice, her eyes narrowed when she saw how tired Reese looked — because concealer could only go so far, and she wasn't a beauty guru.

"You okay, kid?" She asked, setting her empty glass down in the sink. "You look exhausted."

"I was up late doing homework," Reese lied. She actually hadn't done any of her homework, she figured her teachers would give her a break considering what she'd gone through in the past few weeks, but Elizabeth didn't need to know that.

"Well, have a nice day."

"You too," Reese sent her a nod as she snatched her keys off the table and rushed out of the house, realizing that if she didn't get a move on she would be late. Again.

The school was only a fifteen minute drive away (twenty if she got stuck behind another family of deer) and when Reese pulled into her usual parking space, half of the student body was already inside. Her fist class was in building two, so Reese walked at a quickened pace into the room. She ignored the stares and the whispers of her classmates who probably thought she'd dropped out or something after her week of absence. The one person who wasn't concerned about her attendance was Emmett Cullen. He sent her a friendly smile when she dropped down beside him, showing no remembrance of their last interaction. Reese was thankful for that.

Math went on and ended, and Reese was surprised when Emmett Cullen stayed back and waited for her to gather up all of her belongings and shove them into her bag. They didn't say anything as they walked, Reese feeling the guilt begin to eat away at her. The rest of the student body had plenty to say for them though, because their curious eyes followed their every move and comments followed.

"So," Reese started, clearing her throat. "I wanted to, um, apologize for the other day. I was rude-"

"It's fine," Emmett reassured her with a smile, but Reese couldn't return it — no matter how relieved she was. "I shouldn't have pushed you, you just looked really upset."

"Yeah, Lauren Mallory said something and it just got under my skin."

"She has a way with words."

Reese scoffed. "That's putting it lightly. Is she always that mean?"

"For the most part, yeah," Emmett nodded. "Rose almost broke her nose when we first arrived."

"Rose?" Reese sent him a questioning look.

"My sister, the blonde one who kind of glares at every one," Emmett seemed surprised by the fact that Reese had no idea who he was talking about. Their family was the talk of the town, and everyone's conversations seemed to revolve around them. But Reese Logan had bigger things to think about other than who the weird pale kids that avoided contact with any one besides each other was.

"Yeah, I don't really know who your siblings are," Reese confessed, remembering seeing them walk into the lunch room when she'd been rushing out. "I know Edward because I parked in his spot."

"I remember," Emmett laughed, recalling the uproar that had taken place over the fact that the new girl had parked in Edward Cullen's spot.

Their conversation ended there with Reese not having the energy to continue and Emmett not saying much else. Apparently, they had the same chemistry class because he followed her into building five and took his seat towards the back while Reese sat in the middle besides some kid named Marc. Their teacher, Mr. Hoffman, gave them a stern look as he motioned to the clock that showed they were a few minutes late, but didn't say anything. Whether that was because Reese was an orphan and Emmett was intimidating, she didn't know.

The class was uneventful, and Reese spent most of her time doodling on her notes. She couldn't help but think about why Emmett — who apparently didn't talk to anyone, at least according to the girls who sat behind her and din't know how to whisper — was trying to befriend her or something. It was odd. Maybe he felt bad for her. That thought made Reese sink a little in her seat, she didn't want him to only talk to her because he was pitying the fact that her parents were dead.

Reese didn't have the chance to think if it could be anything else, because her worried thoughts came to a screeching halt when the fire alarm blared. The scent of smoke burned her nostrils and Reese felt her heart contract. There's a fire, she panicked, the building is burning down. The blood was pumping loudly in her ears, blocking out the irritating beeping and Mr. Hoffman's shouts of why some idiots were burning paper with the Bunsen Burners they weren't supposed to be touching. Reese became acutely aware that she couldn't breathe; my lungs aren't working she wanted to cry out, but her mouth felt like she was chewing on a cotton ball. Somewhere in her brain she wondered if this is what her parents had felt; smoke stinging their eyes and filling their lungs while hot flames melted through their clothes and burned their skin. She wondered if they had been as scared as Reese was. Then a little voice — that sounded strangely like the fire fighter who had been the one to break the news to the remaining Logans — reminded Reese that her parent's eyes didn't sting and their lungs didn't hurt; they didn't have the chance to feel the flames or cry out that they would never see their children grow, because Mallory and Paul Logan were dead in seconds.

The ground shifted underneath her and Reese's legs crumbled under her body and she slumped out of her chair and to the ground, her knees painfully slamming onto the linoleum floors. The girl barely felt the shock of pain that would definitely leave a bruise, she didn't feel her throat sting from her cries and she didn't notice the tears that were pouring from her green eyes. Reese did, however, see Emmett Cullen kneeling on the ground in front of her; Reese could see his mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear the words that were being spoken. One of the girls that sat in front of her was clutching her shoulder softly, trying to explain that everything was alright, but Reese couldn't hear. Reese let her eyes shutter closed and for a split second, she could imagine that it was Mallory's touch upon her shoulder blades. Behind her eyelids, Reese pictured her mother's bright smile and green eyes. She heard the girl's words in her mother's voice too: it's okay, Reese, you're alright. It was enough to calm her hysterical cries and Reese kept her eyes closed so that she could continue pretend that her mother was still there.

"Reese?" That was Emmett's voice, the worried words breaking through the veil that Reese's panic attack had created. "Reese, it's okay?"

"Cullen, get her off the floor," Mr. Hoffman ordered and Reese heard the shuffling of feet as her classmates back up and Emmett's bulky arms reached around her. "Grab the fire blanket."

Reese kept her eyes clenched shut as she was lifted off the ground in a pair of strong arms. Reese allowed herself to pretend that it was Paul's arms carrying her like he did when she was small and fell asleep in the car on the ride home from the Christmas party that Mitch — her father's closest friend — threw every year. Reese imagined the swivel chair she was set on was the frumpy old one that her mother had seen at a tag sale and bought on a whim. She pictured the floral pattern and dark purple nail polish stain that had gotten there after a mishap when Annmarie knocked over the little jar when Mallory was painting her daughter's finger nails. Reese knew that it was doing nothing for the ache in her chest to pretend she was at home, but she couldn't help it. She was scared.

"I want to go home," Reese whispered to him through her sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Reesey," she heard him say, and that made her cry harder; that was Mallory's nickname for her.

"Someone call her aunt," the girl who had been rubbing her back called.

Reese wanted to shout that she didn't want Elizabeth she wanted Mallory but shouting that she wanted her mom wouldn't get her anywhere. She couldn't have Mallory. Reese couldn't cry into her loving arms and listen to her wise words. Because her mom was dead. Nothing but a face in a frame and a name on a stone. So, Reese pressed her jaw together and continued to cry. A thick blanket was placed over her body and Reese felt Emmett's hold her hand tightly, squeezing her fingers tightly to remind her of her place in the real world, not the one in her head. She didn't even register how cold he was.

The alarm had stopped blaring, and Reese could hear someone on the phone with her aunt. Emmett's grip on her hand tightened and Reese squeezed back. She felt her brain getting fuzzy and knew that she was about to pass out from the shock and from fear.

"I want my mom," she whispered before her head lolled back against the chair and her grip on Emmett Cullen relaxed.

authors note: sooooo its been a hot sec since this has been updated but WHATEVER,,, i work like 45 hours a week and cha girl is tired but heres the lates update !!!!! thank you so so so so much to all of you who have recently voted on this book bc it means so much to me and thank you to kara for letting me vent about reese and emmett like all the time (ily bby),, hope you guys liked this chapter and i promise that reese will eventually get better but rn its sad girl hours.