AN/Disclaimer: All I own is my ideas. And those are partly due to boredom in Study Hall and Math, so enjoy the fruits on my procrastination. Steph. Meyer owns.

"You…don't…want…me?" I asked, confused by the way the words sounded together.

I had always been in love with Edward. Even before I had met him. It was subconscious, I suppose. Edward and his sister-my best friend-Alice had insisted on throwing my a birthday party against by best wishes. I protested profoundly, but it was no use. Hell, I would lose against them in a thumb war, so this was not going to go my way. I got there and, surprisingly, had a good time. That is, until clumsy and ill-fated me just had to get a paper cut in front of a pack of vampires. That sparked insanity. Edward had to protect me, which flung me back into the piano. I crashed into plates, glass of course, and got even more cuts and lost even more blood. Boy, I sure can clear a room. Carlisle, the most immune to the scent of blood and also a doctor, stitched me up. But Edward was still not happy. He thought it was his fault for the mishap and left me. And that brings me to where I am today.

I lie strewn out awkwardly on my bed, searching aimlessly for Edward. My Edward. Memories flashed through my head, the first one of the first night he spent here with me. I sucked in air, trying not to remember without much luck. I flashbacked to our first kiss, that day in the meadow, meeting his family, that awful encounter with James, a hunter vampire who lived a nomadic life with Laurent and Victoria. They weren't like the Cullen's. James and his coven where the evil, so to speak, vampires who fed off of humans.

I traced the palest side of my arm, shocked to find rough scratches there. I forgot I even had those, I didn't remember where they came from. I moved on up to my hand, tracing the cool crescent mark on my hand from where James had bitten me. It reminded me faintly of holding Edward. A tear fell down my cheek at the distant memory of Edward and how he used to love me. Then again, maybe he never loved me at all. Maybe he was just humoring me, not wanting to hurt my feelings. He couldn't possibly love me as I loved him. Not even half.

I heard footsteps trudge up the steps, trying not to woke me. As if I could sleep. Charlie opened the door, morose clear as day on his face. I had just noticed my CD player was playing Rebirth by Skillet. I gazed at it uncomprehendingly. How long had this thing been on? Was I really that out of it?

I already knew that answer.

"Yeah, Charlie?" I asked, trying my best to put on a happy face for Charlie. He could see through my façade all the time, but who knows? Maybe one day he'll decide to just go along with it.

"Just coming up to tell you goodnight. So, um, goodnight, Bella." Charlie whispered the last part. Maybe he thought I was too breakable, and if he talked loud enough, he would break me. I half wished he did.

"Goodnight, dad." I muttered at the closed door after he left.