IMPORTANT READ:'Kay, so this is the oh-so-great story I promised you. (And it's also a dare gone wrong, please before you report me for abuse, I was dared to do this. I don't actually have suicidal thoughts, at all. So, I repeat, DON"T REPORT ME FOR ABUSE!) Now, before you start to say you absolutely hate it, let me just tell you what it took to get this to you. First, I wrote this flippin' awesome story that was something like this, then I lost it. . . . . I never did find that story . . . . . So I just wrote it again, and it was pretty similar to the first one. A couple of months passed, and I got this fan fiction account. When I looked for the second one to put on here, I found out that I lost that one, too. Exasperated, I threw together that first story I put on my account, Dear Juliet, . . . ., (And now that I think back, it really was a crappy story.) Just so I could have something to put on my account. And today, when I was supposed to be paying attention in class, I decided to just write the whole thing out. I have to admit, all three copies where very similar. But then my BFF said that it needed more, so I added a bunch of stuff to it. Me and a few of my friends have read through it, and we think it still makes since with all of my 'improvements,' but if it doesn't make sense all of the way through, blame her, not me.

I awoke to the sound of my violent screams, again.

I was disoriented, until suddenly I realized where I was. I was on my bedroom floor, by my bed, the comforter wrapped around my mouth, muffling my screams. I looked around my room, and was hit with a fresh wave of pain when I realized it was empty, the moonlight shining in eerily from my lace curtains.

It has been like this for five months, five months since He left. Since he left everything abandoned, unwanted, forgotten . . . just like me.

Thank God the bed comforter was still around my mouth, it covered my next round of screaming hysterics. I gripped at my chest in an effort to stop the pain. The hole in my chest wouldn't stop ripping itself wider. The ripping, the burning, the pain, . . . it just wouldn't stop.

I eventually just gave up and began clutching at the sheets, preparing to ride the pain out.

I glanced at the clock, 1:25 a.m. If I had thought the pain was bad at the beginning, it was nothing compared to what it was now.

I clawed and screamed and cried for everything. For the loss of my very best friend, Alice, for the loss of the family that I had once found shelter in, for the loss of the entire life I had chosen, for me, for Him, and mostly for the love that was lost between us. The love that still lingered in a bittersweet and brutal aftertaste, and the love that I still carried with me, every single second of every single day, no matter where I went. The love that put in definition that my heart still does, and will until the end of time, belong to him.

Why had they left, anyway? Did Jasper feel guilty? Did he think that I hated him now, was that it? Had Alice forgotten to tell him my message? No, she wouldn't have forgotten. The only way she wouldn't have told him is if she chose not to, and she wouldn't do that. Would she? After all, I had also been sure that they wouldn't leave me, and I had been wrong about that. No, even if Alice didn't give him my message, there where others around when I said it, and they would have told him, if Alice didn't. But, did Jasper think I was mad at him? He was like my brother, how could he think that I didn't love him anymore? I still loved him just like I always have, and just as much as Emmett.

Thoughts like this where safe when the pain is at it's peak, they do nothing to help or hurt it, so I might as well try to distract myself with them. Though the truth is, I finally decided, that it doesn't matter why. Because, no matter the reason why, they're still gone.

When it finally ended, I looked at the clock, 1:26 a.m. One minute, that felt like hours.

By now the comforter was still wrapped around my mouth and my lungs where burning and my head was spinning from lack of oxygen. Though I couldn't take it off, not because it was stuck, but because I couldn't bring myself to. My hands wouldn't go up to touch it, they didn't want to. The twitching in my chest and stomach as my body desperately tried to pull in oxygen that was not there, the little voice in the back of my head that said, "If you don't pull that thing off now, you won't be alive to!" I oddly found comfort in these things, as if they somehow promised relief from the pain that never fully went away, not even in my dreams. I wondered why, and the answer was obvious, but at the time, my oxygen-deprived brain couldn't put the pieces together.

I tried, to get my hands to move, but I found that I didn't want to, but I didn't know why. Then, when I realized why I actually liked it, I was instantly sick to my stomach.

How did this happen to me? I went from being happy, in love, to being . . . . suicidal. I shuttered at the word.

I quickly pulled the comforter off my face and panted in all the air I could get. Slowly, shaking, I climbed into bed and pulled the comforter/suicide weapon on top of me.

I was in for a long night. When my eyes started to close, I got scared.

My hand went to my bedside table, and I searched until my middle finger encountered the smooth coolness of the top of my radio. I turned it on. I wasn't in the mood for a happy song, a love song I was definitely not ready for, and a song too sad could be dangerous, so what could I listen to? The DJ announced Going Under by Evanescence and I was greeted with "Now I will tell you what I've done for you, 50,000 tears I've cried. Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you, and you still won't hear me." It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't inflicting anymore pain than I was already in.

A few minutes later, it came on, the perfect song. Breathe Into Me by Red was announced and "And this is how it feels when I ignore the words you spoke to me. And this is how I lose myself when I keep running away from you." began to play. I closed my eyes and drifted into a place where my blank nothingness provided comfort.

But as I drifted, I began to think. I thought about my life and how it would be written as a story. I eventually came to the conclusion that no one would read it, it's too boring and utterly depressing. Well, now it is. Now that He is gone.

I didn't even have time to reach for something to cover my mouth with. Before I had fully even registered that it was there, the bloodcurdling shriek escaped from my body. My lifeless soulless, broken body. And I was glad that they gave me no warning now, I tired of fighting it anyway.

I probably woke Charlie up now. Not that I was hiding them before because I thought that he would be worried, he's used to it by now, I just didn't want to wake him up.

The music wasn't helping anymore. Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace and I cut it off during "I can't escape this hell, so many times I've - " And, because I had been thinking of him, I was in too much agony to even think of sleep now, so I just laid there, to wait for morning.

I'm coming apart inside, and no one knows. If my mind is a dark ocean of secrets, my mind is a damaged hell-hole. I'm in pain and no one can even begin to understand the extent of it. This is the kind of agony that only one person can cause, and the same person is the only one who can make it go away.

It's not just referring to the night when the sentence that haunts me makes it's appearance: What happens in the dark are the most torturous things of them all . . . .

Again: DON'T REPORT ME FOR ABUSE!!! I'M FINE!!!!! Review: Like it? Hate it? Want rabid animals to abduct me for being Team Edward? TELL ME!!!!!

Here's a special treat. I was in class and I was getting bored (I told you I'm most creative when I'm bored.) so I was letting my mind wander and I thought this up. If you want me to continue, tell me. If I get enough good reviews I'll do it. This is in Twilight, after James, during Bella and Edward's first summer together

As we sat on the cliffs edge, the sun sinking beautifully over the horizon and unleashing magnificent streaks of reds, yellows, and everything in between over the crashing dark blue Pacific that reached up beneath us, hundreds of feet below.

I opened my mouth and spoke the words that where the reason I would freely die for him. "I love you." "As I love you." he replied. But he didn't look at me, he stared out to the sun, lost in thought. His face was hard, rigged, and I felt the need to look away.

I instead stared down at the forest green knitted blanket he had wrapped around me, and his muscular, pale stone arms he had placed protectively on top.

Finally, I couldn't resist, "Edward?" "Hmm?" . . . . "What are you thinking about?" He sighed. Then pulled my face up so that I was looking at him square in the eye and looked my face over to make sure I was listening to him.

What he said next shattered my blissful mood and made my world come crashing down . . . .

What did Edward say? I already have the idea that I based the story around, but if your ideas that are better and work with the story, then I'll go with which ever idea that I think is best! Review!!

P.S. If I finish this and post it as an individual story, it will be called What Do You Mean?