I sat staring at the reclined chair in front of mine. The occupant, what I could see of him, was old. But not grey, as the hair on the sides of his head showed as they surrounded a shiny bald patch. He was not a tall man, and I could only just see the top of his head over the head rest. He had never looked at me, but somehow knew how to really cheese me off, well, if I really cared. He reclined his chair so I couldn't even get up to use the bathroom. I could have coped with that had it not been for the snoring, and the light reflecting of his shiny head blinding me. I had already listened to my I pod that was now in my bag, dead. My phone wouldn't work thanks to the altitude and I had nothing else to do.

So, here I sat. Isabella Swan, occupant of 12C, on an aeroplane to England, bored out of my mind, with nothing to do but think. Thinking was dangerous, to me. Whenever I thought, I usually ended up curled up in a ball trying to hold myself together. So I stared at the thing in front of me, not really seeing it. After all, it's not like it interested me. What could interest me about an old, boring, snoring man? Nothing. But, that didn't really mean much. Nothing interested me anymore. But, I had perfected the art of clearing my mind and thinking nothing. It wasn't nice or peaceful, but it kept me together, literally. It made me feel numb, which was a bonus for me. The permanent ache in my chest was a bit much to feel 24/7 since I could never stop thinking about him. Unfortunately, I liked the numb a little too much and spend most of my time with my mind blank.

I didn't register anything when I was in my numb state. I didn't speak at all and only moved when it absolutely necessary, such as breathing. After a week of this, Charlie gave up trying to give me "space to sort myself out", he got worried that I hadn't eaten at all since he left. He constantly asked me if I was hungry, thirsty, anything. When I thought about it, I did notice the hunger pangs, but the pain was so inconsequential compared to the whole in my chest that I didn't really register it either. I know I hurt Charlie, but I really couldn't find it in my heart to care.

He is my dad. He was supposed to protect me no matter what. He should have known HE would do this. But he just stood by and let Him tear my heart apart piece by piece every day. Its Charlie's fault I'm here now, stuck on a plane. He threatened me with sending me to phoenix after two weeks of my numb, or, as the doctor put it, "catatonic" state. I couldn't go to phoenix, I couldn't leave Forks. If I left, it would be like he was just a dream like he was really never here, like he never existed, like he wanted. I already feared that the whole thing was my imagination, and began to question my sanity. No-one understood why I was taking it so hard, and just kept telling me to move on. Move on? How do you move on when the love of your life tells you that you're not good enough for him and he doesn't want you anymore? Or maybe it was the fact that he was a vampire. It's like the ultimate rejection, rejected by a vampire. There he was, a vampire that wanted my blood, here I was a vulnerable weak little human, and he pushed me away. If it were anyone else, I would have laughed. Rejected by a vampire!!

I haven't been the same since he left. The sound of any of their names has me collapsed on the floor trembling and screaming in agony. Every movement, breathe, blink reminded me of them, of how unworthy I was of being near them, of counting me as one of their family him, of him pretending to love me. Even if it wasn't real, I was honoured to have had the chance to at least live the dream. Actually, I was surprised he stuck with me for so long.

"Excuse me dear, but the plane has landed"

I looked up at the one who interrupted my thoughts to see a young, kind looking flight attendant looking at me kindly, but wearily. I couldn't really blame her; I truly did look scary when I was in my "numb" state.

I looked forward at the, now upright and empty, chair in front of me. I kept my face blank as I stood and grabbed my bag from the over head compartments. I didn't make any noise, or even look at her again. She seemed about to say something but I barged past her, not really caring what she thought

As I walked down the aisle towards the plain exit I passed the other flight crew. The two pilots and the four flight attendants were in front of the exit, and they didn't seem to be in a hurry to move anytime soon. I barged past them roughly, and proceeded out the exit and down the ladder to the ground. Judging by the looks on their faces, they expected more, s mental or emotional breakdown perhaps? I could tell from the looks on their faces, that I had been a hot subject for gossip. God!! How long was I sad there "numb"?

I found that it didn't really matter and that I didn't really care. I know I say that a lot, but it's true. I don't see the point in caring anymore. I cared about HIM and look what he did. I cared about THEM, and they left!! It's not that I didn't want to care, because a part of me does. But a bigger part of me doesn't. Not caring is safer because then you wont stand a chance of being hurt, you stay safe, whole.

I walked into the "arrivals" part of the airport and took a seat and waited. While I was waiting I took out my phone and turned it on. Well, at least it working now!

I really don't know why I have a phone. I don't have any friends anymore. When IT happened I couldn't face school, I never went back afterwards. As a result, I lost contact with my "friends", and they gave up on me like I gave up on them. Charlie and Renée and my number, but I wasn't talking to them. They had tricked me. Saying if I got better they wouldn't ship me back to phoenix, so I made an effort. And they didn't ship me to phoenix; they put me on a plane to England to live with my grandma for the foreseeable future. She has been informed of my "condition", and so here I am. I put my phone away and sat back on the uncomfortable plastic chair that I was sat on.

"Bella??" said a small female voice, it sounded far away. Well, I was in an airport. DUH!

I didn't open my eyes; I liked the black sanctuary of my mind. Besides, I hated England. It wasn't as rainy as Forks, but that just reminded me of THEM. It was dreary and bland here. I hated Forks when I first got there, more than I hated England now. But, I grew to love Forks. It was beautiful in its own way. The lush wildlife, the carefree attitude. It was my home. England was just a nasty, cheaper, tackier version of Forks. It wasn't beautiful at all. It was------------ not my home. It never would be. Ever.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as I heard the patter of small feet, muffled by the stained carpet that was on the floor. I could tell that they were coming towards me. Yippee!!

"Bella dear?" Said a sweet voice. I opened my eyes and gazed at someone I had never met before, but I could see that she was part of my family, the resemblance was uncanny. I looked into the face of my mothers mum. My grandma. My guardian.