Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine nor anyone else's but Stephanie Meyer… sorry

All My Untold Secrets

Prologue

The deafening music pounded in my ears; chaotic and destructive, just like me.

I threw back vodka after vodka, letting it take me away on the cloud of meaningless oblivion. Moving my body to the hypnotizing beat, I closed my eyes and fingered the tiny plastic bag that was burning a hole in the back pocket of my ripped black jeans. Oh, how I loved Jeremy; he had opened my eyes to the real world, and without him, I never would know the joy of that instant rush; ecstasy. Plucking a single pill from the plastic, or maybe it was two, but who cared; I swallowed it with another burning shot of pure vodka. Slowly, I felt the creeping effects of my favourite drug, soon feeling downright confident and carefree as I danced around the room of sweaty bodies, sashaying and grinding against anything and anyone.

My fragile mind started to slip away from me, but who really gives a crap. Minds suck.

Adrenaline ignited in my tiny, lithe body, and I climbed my way onto a nearby table, not caring what I looked like or who was watching. Ripping my black-and-blood red check jacket off my shoulders and throwing it on the floor, I danced away the night. Not so innocent, and defiantly carefree.

And that's how all it began. So cheesy, I know… but it's the truth.

My fingers twitched violently… then my arms… and there go my legs… oh whatever; I was freaking shaking from head to toe.

Staring down at the desk in front of me, I drowned out the annoying voice of the teacher was talking about the ever-looming graduation and tried to concentrate on anything other than the nervous energy flowing through me like fire; begging me to end the pain of feeling anything at all. I needed numbness; I needed to feel nothing. It was so much easier that way; either nothing, or excited oblivion.

But I could never let myself feel real feelings; they were freaking dangerous. Staring down at my forearm, I gazed at the faint white lines that ran over and over in a macabre pattern. And then I counted them; allowing myself to be lost in the mindless counting, but never allowing myself to remember; not a single memory that was a reason behind each pearly scar. I only thought of the number; and the addictive bittersweet release I felt when I made them.

Control; it was all about control, but I didn't need it anymore, I was on the new and better things; namely drugs, booze and cigarettes, but never razor blades anymore. I wasn't suicidal; I was nothing - nothing at all.

Yet my body kept twitching and shaking, aching from head to toe from the ever-present need. My dad was right about something for once; withdrawals did freaking suck, but it wouldn't be long now, ten more tortuous minutes in this hell hole and then I could disappear; just me and my beloved stash.

And then the world would be a better place.

Friday nights are for lack of a better word… freedom.

Three days of nothing but empty hours waiting to be filled with mindlessness and oblivion. And not to mention, the most raves that ever went down in Port Angeles.

I jumped smoothly onto my black as midnight motorbike that Jake had fixed up for me, before he too vanished from my life. But I couldn't remember him; I wouldn't. Revving the engine, I tore wildly out of the school car park, with just my bag of essentials and me. Speeding past the little town of Forks, I headed straight for party-until-you-drop Port Angeles; and another rave, and Jeremy.

Fingering the cash I had easily lifted from Charlie's wallet that rested safely in my pocket, I smiled. A ghost-like grin, when I thought of the tiny little bags of treasure I could score now. I was almost out; but with Jeremy and $550, I was set for another couple of weeks.

Itching for a dulling drink, I pulled the small silver flask from the tiny hidden compartment on my bike and took a large swallow of vodka, embracing the feeling of burning fire down my throat. It was the best feeling I knew now, after ecstasy of course; completely painful but pleasurable at the same time.

Revving the engine, I sped down the highway at the fastest speeds I could manage on my sleek black Harley, completely oblivious to anything. I just loved the speed. It made me believe for a second that I could do anything; like the world was at my fingertips.

I took swallow after swallow of whiskey, staring blankly at the tiny broken heart tattoo on my hipbone, as I rocked back and forth to the beat. When had I gotten that? Looking into the mirror through hazy, bloodshot eyes; I resisted the urge to laugh hysterically when I finally realized why Charlie had grounded me this time. A scarlet stud protruded from my left nostril; glittering just like a bloody diamond in the light.

Oh well. Home… out… it was all the same to me. I had music here; pills here; whiskey here. I only missed the feeling of a hundred bodies moving to the music, grinding against one another in a drunken haze. But it was just for the week, then school would be out and I would be finally free.

I might as well just leave now; I had flunked all my meaningless classes anyway. Except art; that weird ass teacher seemed to get high over my paintings and sketches of destruction and emptiness. "Innovatively creative" she said. I would have just called it what it was, crap, and failed me on the spot. But whatever floats her boat.

Turning the radio up full blast; I took another swig of whiskey and swayed my hips back and forth to the blaring metal rock; letting myself get lost in myself; it was east to get lost in the emptiness that was me.

Empty.

School was finally out, and I had no freaking intentions of ever going back to that torturing hell hole. Who cared about high school or college? Not me. Give me a party 24/7 and a place to crash and lose a hangover, and I'd be just peachy.

I packed up everything important to me; fake ID (who ever made a rule about underage drinking, really was stupid to give us the technology to make fake ids, but whatever), a couple of sets of clothes, a toothbrush, etc; and the remainder of my ecstasy and uppers; and whiskey, and vodka. Slipping silently into Charlie's room as he slept, I crept to his bedside table and lifted the four hundred dollars that was there. Apparently for my graduation gift, but there was no way in hell I was graduating, and I sure as hell wasn't going back to repeat any time soon. He would be better off without me anyway. Then I slinked stealthily away, throwing the tiny duffel bag over my bone thin shoulder, and walked out the front door; for the very last time.

Turning on the ignition of my Harley, I slipped a couple of uppers into my mouth and swallowed it with a mouthful of vodka. Then sped away; never looking back.

Destination: another rave - and a lifetime of mindless emptiness.

With the taste of bitter alcohol in my mouth, I danced sexily around the room, letting the hypnotizing beat of the music take me away. Body after body pressed against mine, but I didn't care. A warm hand suddenly rested on my shoulder and I turned to face the stranger that had interrupted my dancing through blurry eyes. Staring into deep, bottomless ebony eyes, I smiled drunkenly then I followed as they tugged at my hand and pulled me after them. Well, him. I checked him out slowly, my gaze taking him in from head to toe and then I smiled; tall with jet black hair and wiry muscles; he was definitely hot in a dark kind of way. Well, a very dark way, seeing as his ripped body was clad in only black.

Not really caring about what I was doing or why, I walked after him, allowing the situation to take me somewhere new; somewhere exciting. I needed some adventure; the excitement was hitting a plateau again. He led me into a small, dark bed room, with a half-empty bottle of vodka still in my hand. When he suddenly stopped, I tripped and sank to the floor; not caring though, I tipped the bottle back in my mouth, letting it all run down my throat in waves of fire. Another bottle was thrust into my hand, and I drank it down; and then another and another and another.

I felt someone tug my hand, and then I was lying on something so soft with silky fabric caressing my skin and that hot guys lips on mine and my body started acting all on its own, as my mind slipped away - completely away.

Oh, the oblivion.

I stared at the tiny thing in my quivering hands and wanted to vomit.

My fingers itched with the desire to throw it away and then drink myself out of this completely messed up nightmare. I flexed them, trying to stop the burning, but only another drink would do that; only that would let me fall into numbness again. A plastic bag burnt a hole in my back pocket, and my tongue was like rough sandpaper; waiting for the drugs and booze to slid down and let me be free again.

But then I stared down at the tiny thing in my hands, and had to resist the urge to cry.

To scream.

To wail.

To yell.

To bawl.

To die.

To cry.

It burnt like fire in my fingertips; hot and scalding and I whimpered softly, knowing that I could never be numb again; fate hated me too much even for that… now it was going to be all about the pain… withdrawals, feelings, memories… and Forks again. I was going home.

Closing the door of my tiny black car, I held myself together with my arms, as I walked up the grey pavement and took a huge breath, before I knocked on the door that opened up to that ever so familiar home with such happy memories; as if. It was torture being back here, and I knew that if it wasn't for my… predicament, there was no way I would be within 100 miles of this house, or this town.

The door swung open and the woman that answered looked at me in blank confusion, her scantily clad body soft and pure, compared to my skin and bone's one that was sallow and tainted. I hated her already, seeing the calculating look in her eyes and the predatory smile that curved her cherry lips. I was going to introduce myself, but her face flickered with sudden recognition and she called out softly, "Honey? Someone's here for you." I heard those all too familiar footsteps trudge slowly down the stairs, but kept my face blank and emotionless as I stared at the content and happy man in front of me, who had just slung one arm lazily around that chick's waist. To interrupt his mindless staring at her oh so perfect face, I coughed softly, trying to get his attention.

He turned to me, and then froze, shock still. I didn't blame him.

Shifting the black shoulder bag from one arm to the other, I whispered quietly, my voice still a little hoarse from the cigarettes I had smoked only a few days ago, which I was missing like hell; "Hey Dad."