This is my fourteenth story. I started writing it because I wanted a story about some major depression that Bella went through, but in my hours of searching, I didn't find anything updated recently or finished (correct me if I'm wrong). So here is my story.
Disclaimer: These are Stephanie Meyer's characters. I have my ideas, and I'm fitting them in between the month or so between New Moon and Eclipse.
A/N: I'm dating this story based on Twilight Lexicon's Timeline.
Edward's POV:
Sunday, April 8th. Just yesterday that mutt had come and reminded us of the treaty. I didn't mind until I smelled the blood.
I knew of Bella's cuts since that day in Volterra. Holding her in my arms as we waited for the Volturi to finish feeding, I saw the thin, pink lines scattered along her left forearm. Some were fresh and had clearly scabbed over just day's prior. Others had faded to the point where I doubted she could still see them. Of course, my century of knowledge reminded me the scars, almost unperceivable darker than her natural skin color, would be clear and visible to her for at least the rest of her mortal life.
The faint patterns would be virtually invisible to other human's just months after their opening. She would have to point them out and only then, for that brief instance, would the person be able to pick out the many she had created. No body would be able to feel the brief bump in her skin – only her. The scars would be practically invisible.
But the patterns were etched into my memory as well as hers. The thin lines were ones she had made bleed. I cringed at the count. There were almost a hundred of them, scattered in various directions from her wrist to her elbow. The slightly darker strips without a visible line were those she had only cut away layers of the skin. I was silently thankful for those. Still, that count was further frightening. Almost two hundred made themselves visible. There were also many, which I noticed, had been cut into multiple times.
She hasn't done it since I arrived. Alice's words still rang in my ears. They brought relief, as well as another wave of guilt. I had caused this. By removing myself – a threat I now understand never existed – I left my angel in the worst pain with, obviously, few acceptable options in her mind.
How could I have done this? I was more of a monster than I ever knew. I had damaged my love, my angel, and my life in a way that could never be undone. The last few months would be forever etched into her memory. Every little scar would be forever remembered; regardless of the possibility her changing cleaned the skin of its imperfections. The patterns I could make out sometimes had names or images. My name, my initial, me. I had done this with the one action I thought would save her.
Of course, I hadn't thought of mentioning it until now. I knew remembering would be the most painful – reason enough to start again – and Jacob had done that. She needed now, more than ever, to escape the memory of the months I was away. The best I could do was withhold from mentioning it, and stay forever – something I fully intended to do.
But Jacob posed a problem. Bella could forget, or at least push aside the memories, but that dog would be a reminder. Even worse, as much as I hated to think it, he would be around a lot. Even if it caused her physical and mental pain, I knew she would keep him around. To complicate things even further, the nearby vampire attacks were becoming more frequent, making the need for the pack more necessary than it should be.
I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain and need. I could only do so much to help her. This was a big decision. She would be fully opposed to getting help or talking about it. The cutting had been a part of her life for months. Day after agonizing day, she did this while I sat around in Brazil making myself as useless as possible.
Help was the only way to solve this. If she had to have reminders, she could still find a different release. Perhaps our presence could do some work. But it clearly wasn't doing enough. Even with me here she continued the terrible dead. I sighed. This was going to be terribly difficult.
Bella was just now walking back into her room. She was dressed in her pajamas, ready for bed. I didn't want to have to bring this up now, the night before school started, but she had just cut in the bathroom. I had just smelled the sweet, red liquid pouring out of her arm just 10 feet away.
So this is my brilliant cliffhanger. It's also the end of what will likely be my only chapter in Edward's POV.