I woke up again. Why do I always do that? The feeling of opening my eyes to find nothingness again is almost worse than the hole in my chest. He's never there when I turn over in bed, smiling at me. Maybe, with time, it won't hurt as much.

I know I've been trouble to Charlie over the past year; he barely ever smiles anymore. There were therapists, most of them during the first few months. None of them could help. I always saw him, heard him, felt him. Of course he was never really there, but I always gave in to the hallucinations, hoping they were real. Charlie had given up on me, letting me stay in my room all night, without him nudging me to socialize and go out with friends. We both accepted that for now, I was stuck like this; an emotionless zombie.

I haven't been eating; Charlie has to force food down my throat to keep me healthy. It's sad for him, really. Being the father to a daughter who's barely alive. Poor, poor Charlie.

I finally woke up at the end of a long dark lonely year. I know its bringing out the worst in me. I can always hear my voice start breaking in fear when the lights go down. The lack of light equates to being alone. A year of being lifeless, and now I've realized that he's never coming back. And I still feel him looking over my shoulder, his sinking guilt and approaching nightmare. I'm Angry now, angry that he's caused me so much pain, and angry with myself for being so unlovable.

He didn't love me, he never did. That's what he said, and he had no reason to lie. I'm just a human, after all. A stupid, gullible, ugly human; there was no way I could compete with vampiric beauty. I know none of us will survive. Well, I won't anyway. He's probably somewhere exotic, living in happiness with the rest of the Cullen's, maybe he's even found a lady vampire. They'd be content, and she would be good for him; able to be together forever. I'd realised in the first month of his absence that he denied me eternity with him because he didn't want to spend forever with me. It was never really a question of my mortality.

Tonight I sat in the rocking chair near my window. He came through the opening and stood in my room, angelic as always with his crooked smile. I give him a small grin; happy that he came back again. It had been four days since his last appearance. He motions over to my bed, silently telling me it was time to sleep. I join him, crawling under the covers. He tells me that he's missed me, and that I should get some rest. I looked tired.

He sounded different; I asked him about it.

"Its because you're forgetting my voice, Bella. I sound how you remember me to sound. It seems your memory is slipping." He smiled at me once more, stroking my hair before vanishing. I started crying again, as I always did after the hallucination left. Was it true that I was forgetting his voice? I was doing exactly what he told me to do, and I wouldn't stand for it. More open-eyed dreams were necessary. Doing stupid things always helped me get through his absence, because he would come back to scold me within the hour. Of course sometimes I would get different versions of him, like the last time I walked into traffic without looking, hoping a truck would be speeding down the road. He had laughed at me, telling me that it was funny how I thought he'd cared, and that he wasn't concerned at all if I got hurt. Why care about someone you don't love? He had said that time. I agreed, only to wake up a day later in the hospital with a pumped stomach. Apparently I'd downed a bottle of Tylenol.

This time I grabbed the razor I hid in my drawer and sat up in bed. He appeared again and chuckled. 'Oh Bella, the poor little depressed girl. You've resorted to cutting yourself now? Pathetic.'

I dragged the blade over my skin, watching the light droplets of blood bubble into larger ones. His face dropped, 'Bella, what are you doing. B-Bella stop it!' I looked at him and smiled, the release was fantastic. I forced the edged down over the existing cut, watching as the wound became deeper, cutting through what little fat I had. Edward was yelling at me now, telling me that I broke my promise to him, and that I was hurting the people around me, not only myself. I laughed at him silently; the thought that he was concerned was comical. Finally when the blood dried, I turned off my lamp and closed my eyes. He kissed my forehead with his cold lips and told me he loved me. I let a tear slip when I realised it was only a cool breeze that had hit me face.

TBC