A/n: March Break, bitches! *Does a loud yell* Unfortunately, I have a sore throat and I sound like a dead cow. But this just means I get to sit in my little, dark room with the laptop being the only light in my room and me eating some sour cream and onion Ruffles. Christ, I'm such a hermit. Anyways, just a nice little idea that was rolling around in my head one day. And I think I want to write it because it's a very nice idea, if I do say so myself. *Grins* I'll shut up now.

Disclaimer: I fuck with the characters. That's all I own. The fucking. Everything else belongs to it's rightful owner.

There is No Cure
"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
I hope someday you will join us, and the world will live as one."
 ―John Lennon

Dreams.

For me, there's no such thing as a life. Life isn't something where people aspire to be what they want to be, strive for it hard and work countless hours just to get to the top. It isn't something where people have the liberty to mold their existence however they please. That isn't a life. Lives are what the people in hospitals have; where they sit in a bed everyday and just vegetate. Are unresponsive to the world, but alive in their own minds. A life is breathing, blinking, thinking. Not working, laughing, socializing.

Those are called dreams.

I don't live in a house with my mother, in sunny Arizona where you either burn or tan beautifully. I live in a place where there are colours too bright to describe, where animals and creatures that never existed come to life by my very eyes. It's where I'm able to just live. To sit in the vibrant green grass and breathe peacefully as the wind whistles through my hair and the cool mist of past rain greet my eyelashes. I love to live. And I love to dream.

*+*

I found it highly unfair how my mother burst into my room one lazy afternoon, flushed and angry. "This has gone far enough, Bella. You need to seriously get off your ass and find yourself a job." It was the same deal with her. How I did nothing but sit at home and read one of my "hippie books" while wearing odd patterned skirts and the only light, aside from the sun, coming from lava lamps. "Money doesn't grow on trees and bills don't pay themselves. If you want to live here, you'll have to help out somewhat."

"That's kind of funny. Because for eighteen years of my life, you never asked me to pay off rent for you. Why the sudden change of heart, mother deary?" I asked her with a bit of a sneer, shutting my book about the Bermuda Triangle and Atlantis.

She let out a frustrated huff and leaned against the door frame. "Because I'm not going to stand around and pay rent when I know that you're fully capable of finding good work and paying. I also have to pay for your bills as well. I suggest that if you want to continue living here, you either pay up or leave. You're my daughter, and I love you, really, but you just need to do something with yourself. Moping around and being a hippie just because your boyfriend dumped you, shouldn't stop you from finding a job and working."

I rolled my eyes at her, kind of pissed off that she brought up my love life as an excuse for my lack of work. "Please, Mom, just stop. If it makes you feel any better, I'll go job hunting tomorrow. Christ," I said, sighing and averting my eyes. I really didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Why is it so hard to accept the fact that everyone gets dumped sometime in their life, Bella? And you did. Live with it. But just because Tyler dumped you, that gives you no reason as to why you insist on doing nothing. You're twenty-four. Could you please just grow up?"

I stood up, glaring at her now. She knew not to bring him up. She just knew. Like knowing not to cross the street before looking both ways, like knowing to turn off the tap of water after you finish brushing your teeth. She knew.

"If I grew up would you stop?" I snapped, being a little bit more harsh than I intended. "Why can't you just accept that people handle things differently? Instead of annoying me for my lack of a boyfriend, just accept that maybe I just want to live right now. To take things the easy way." I was being childish, and bratty. She didn't deserve it after all she did but it was one of those "splurge of the moment" things.

"You know what, Bella? Maybe when you start acting twenty-four and not twelve, you can come talk to me. Till then, don't because I'm not going to have a discussion with a pre-teen. And if you don't like it, then leave," she threw back, pulling my curtain to the side and leaving quickly.

I sighed and covered my face with my hands. I really needed to get out of here.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt, I grabbed my phone and keys and made my way to the front door. Hopefully, I'd go unnoticed, but fate had other plans.

"Where are you going?" Renee asked me as I was about to open the door. I sighed and looked at her tiredly.

"I'm just going to go see Jacob," she wrinkled her nose in disgust, "And I'll be back by ten." I knew I wouldn't be back by ten. We both knew, but it somewhat put her at ease, even if it was a lie.

"I see. Going to go grow up a bit?" she snapped, crossing her arms and arching a brow.

I glared at her before breathing in quickly and exhaling. "Just shut up, Mom. Shut up," I said before opening the door and breaking out into a sprint.

*+*

"Why don't you just come live with me?" Jake said huskily, as he took another swig of his beer. "I mean, we've got room for another person. And sometimes, Seth isn't even at home. He's at work most of the time. 'Sides, I got dibs on the master bedroom so even if we can't fit another bed in, you can just sleep with me. Unless you want something other than sleep?" Jake asked me, with that familiar dirty smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes and grinned.

"I can't, Jake. You know that. Although my mother can be an annoying hag, she takes care of me, makes sure I'm okay," I protested quietly. I looked down to the table, trying to make out each line of wood.

Jake huffed, annoyed. "Oh, and I don't take good care of you? I save you each time you're ready to kill yourself! Isn't that enough?" he asked. I sighed and looked up at him.

Jacob was my best friend since high school. He was my first everything. My first friend, my first love, my first kiss, my first time. Although Jake and I were really close, we both agreed that after our many firsts, we'd rather just stay friends. Not because it disgusted us, but because we just weren't ready to experience the complications. Things were nice. We liked nice things.

"You do, you do. But it's different. It's a motherly caring. And I find it… comfortable. I'd miss her too much, to be honest." I bit my lip as tears brimmed. I was such a little brat and she did nothing to deserve my mean comments. She was my mother. Always and still there for me. She loved me.

"Alright, alright. I get it," Jake said as he wiped a few of the loose tears. "But just know that my door's always opened to you. Don't ever think it's not, alright?" I nodded.

"I understand," I told him. It was quiet between us as we didn't converse; allowing the loud music from the speakers touch our eardrums and as Jake finished his beverage. I looked down to my phone and saw that it was two hours after the time that I said I'd be back by. I stood, adorning the light sweater that I forgot in Jake's backseat two days ago along with my phone and keys. "I need to get going. I have to go job hunting," I told him.

He looked at me with his piercing dark eyes and laughed loudly. "Oh man, you? Job hunting? That's a sight I have got to see!" he said. I rolled my eyes and punched his shoulder.

"You're such an ass," I told him.

"Yeah, well," he said as he stood to give me a brief hug, "You have an ass friend. Lucky you, huh?"

"Why do I picture a walking ass when you say that?" I asked him, giggling and pulling out of his embrace.

He chuckled and ruffled my hair. "I'm on fire too," he said.

"Why are you on fire?" I gave him a look.

"Isn't it obvious? Because I'm one hot piece of ass!" I laughed out loud, my cheeks hurting from laughing. "Get going, rascal. Mommy might have to ground you for being late," he said in a high voice.

"Fuck off, Jake," I said, laughing.

"Gladly!" he shouted before I left the local bar.

I shivered slightly and stuck my hands in my pocket and the cool summer air blew from all directions. I began walking down the block, kind of pissed that I didn't just ask for a ride because I was tired as hell and just wanted to get to my bed as soon as possible.

"Why can't you just understand that I love you?" I heard a man yell. I looked down the street to see a tall man, built like a boulder, shouting to the woman in front of him. He ran his hands through his dark, curly hair, clenching his teeth and shutting his eyes as if he was in pain. I stopped walking. "I love you so much, Rosie. And I want you to be mine. Why can't you just trust that I love you?"

The female in front stood tall, her pale blonde hair piled into a messy bun and standing shameless in her pink silk pajamas. "Because, Emmett, I'm just not ready to love. I'm scared. Yes, I'm a grown woman and I'm scared. But can you really blame me for not wanting to trust fate and destiny all that much?"

"Do you know that it hurts when you say that? It hurts, right here," he grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart, looking down at her while a few stray tears ran down his cheeks. I stared, immobile and emotionless. I was living.

"I know, baby, I know. But please. If you love me, you'll give me time. Don't think that I don't love you, cause that's not true. I'm just scared," she said, resting her head on his broad shoulder.

"Just…let me teach you," I barely heard his say, as he wrapped his large arms around her slender waist and resting his head atop hers.

It was foreign to me; what they spoke about. Love. I didn't know it, didn't want to know it either. I didn't want to go through that pain. To tell a man that I loved him and let him have access to everything that kept me whole. I wasn't ready like that woman. I was scared and I didn't ever want to try. I was content in my own little dreamland, knowing things I wanted to know and things that I didn't, never having to know. I was happy like that. And I just wasn't ready to risk that happiness, with someone that would either bring me happiness, or just break me, piece by piece.

I shut my eyes fiercely as I could feel my dreamland over take my mind. I was in a state of confusion, I was lost. But I just knew that maybe my dreams would help me find my way.

Opening my eyes, I no longer saw the sidewalk and the dark houses. I saw grass, trees, water, animals, clouds. I grabbed the necklace of the little locket that my father gave me as a child. "Each dreamland is special, distinct. No one will ever have the same dreamland like yours, Bella. So don't tell anyone about it, darling, not even me. Or else we'd be seeing each other in dreamland." Those few words rung out in my head, hearing them as a child when my father described dreamlands to me.

I found it pitiful that when I was a child, I was expected to believe in things that no touches or can see. Santa Claus, the tooth-fairy, aliens. But this, dreamland, I could believe in dreamland. I could depend on it. It would always be there, even when I'd be old and withered. It would always be there when I just needed it. Dreamland was my support, my refugee.

My eyes scattered the small garden that lay before me, filled with animals and vibrant flowers. This was my dreamland. And no one would take it from me. Ever.

The wind quietly breezed around my form, making a peaceful 'wish-woosh' sound. The sun beat down, feeling warm and bright from behind my eyelids.

"Better make this fast," I heard somewhere far away. But I didn't care. I was feeling whole, happy. I didn't want something as stupid as a person to take this sentiment away from me. It was just wrong.

I could feel myself moving, but I just registered it as my bare feet hitting the hot pavement in my dreamland. I could hear birds singing a cheery song as I moved through the garden.

A soft, yet deep voice made it self clear as I moved more rapidly. It wasn't talking; it was singing, familiar singing. The hairs on my arm stood as the singing became more loud as I grew near.

"Alone with you, nothing to do. We're lost again for something to say. Although it's wrong, we'll carry on pretending," the voice sung out to me. Tears spilled down my cheeks as the familiar voice of my father's singing filled my brain and calmed my thundering heart.

"Dad…," I whimpered as the tears rolled down my hot cheeks and the harsh beating of my heart just turned into a sad beat.

The recognizable strums of his guitar and his deep voice singing the lyrics that were unforgettable just made me cry even harder.

My father told me that each dreamland was distinct. That we all had things that we dreamed about, things and people. I dreamed about my deceased father. Because he was the only thing, aside from the pretty colours and songs, that kept me whole in dreamland.

And just like that, I think I fell asleep standing right there in the middle of the sidewalk. I was too into my sleep to really know what happened, but for some strange reason, I felt safe. And that was odd. Very, very odd. For Bella Swan never felt safe.

*+*

When I woke up, I screamed bloody murder. I was in a car, with a blanket wrapped around my curled up form, and there was a water and a little cupcake set on my lap. And it scared the fucking shit out of me because frankly, all I remembered was standing in the middle of a sidewalk.

I looked around me, wondering where the fuck I was. Well, I for sure knew that I was at a gas station. Which said gas station seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

I pulled out my phone and tried to dial my mother's number, but to no avail, I got no signal.

I grabbed my head as I took a small sip from the water, just wanted to get rid of my parched throat. "What the hell?" I muttered to myself as I tried to figure out a way as to how I would get myself out of this mess.

"Oh," I heard the car door open and a male call out to me, "You're awake," he said. My eyes narrowed as I stared out my own window. Do I kick his balls first or do I just run? "Are you hungry? I brought you a cupcake. If you don't eat it, I sure as fuck will."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered to myself as I looked to the man who was standing by the car door. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked him. He was tall, that was for sure. With messy hair that looked somewhat brown, but with red tints in it, giving it a coopery look. His skin was pale, compared to the people in Arizona who were mostly tanned. And he had the biggest green eyes ever. It scared me.

"Well, to be honest, I really don't think there's a reason as to why you're in my car. I thought you were in trouble, so I took you and placed you in my car. But you were sleeping. And then you began talking about feeling unsafe, so I've come to a conclusion," he announced primly. I arched an eyebrow for him to continue. "I'm not giving you back."

My eyes widened at him. "You're kidnapping me?" I asked incredulously.

"That's correct."

"You're one sick fuck, you know that? Trying to help a woman and then kidnapping her right after. I don't even know you. Why can't you just let me go?" I asked him harshly.

He looked down as he got into the car, shrugging his shoulder and closing the door. "I'm not sure. But I just want to ask, do you want to go home?"

"Why?" I asked him suspiciously.

"Just answer, dammit."

I then thought about my mother, and Jake. My mother was well off on her own, and Jake? He had Seth. It was funny. While I thought that everyone was dependent on me, I was dependent on them. I depended on them, not the other way around. And yet again, the tables were being turned. I was the sick fuck for my decision.

"No, I don't. So just fucking drive before I change my mind," I said, looking at him and glaring. He gave me an odd look before sticking the key in the ignition and driving out of the crap gas station.

I didn't even know what I was doing anymore. I was being kidnapped, but it wasn't exactly a kidnapping considering I told him to drive. But as we drove into the bright sun, I felt a sense of wonder. What would being with this odd stranger entail? What if I had to end up killing myself?

I looked over to his tired face as he drew. And I knew; somehow, someway, dreamland would help me.

A/n: Mother…Fucker. That was longer than I actually intended. Well, better for the reader. Except this is one really fucked plot line. Okay, so lemme get some things straight:

―Bella does not take drugs. She's just a dreamer. She may be a little crazy for dreaming on a sidewalk, but that's how Bella is. Well, my Bella at least. She's a very deep little bud that will bloom in time. There's a lot to my Bella that we've yet to discover.

―Bella is being kidnapped. Yes, she is. Some may argue that she's not, but she will. Who knows, well, I do, but anyways, maybe she'll change her mind in time. Only time will tell.

―If people don't review or alert, I'll never know if you people want me to continue or not *Cries.* And I really do, because it's such a fun plot and I had fun writing it. So please review. I at least want 10 reviews. That's my minimum. If not, I'll have to delete this story too -.-" Thanks for reading though (: It means a lot~