A/N: Thought this up reading a similar story, and wanted to try it out myself. Please tell me what you think!
Song For This Chapter: Secrets - OneRepublic
BPOV
I slowly traced the knife back and forth across my hand, barely touching. I missed this. It was strange, I thought, that I should; that time had been the worst in my life, and this had developed at that point. So why should it be so nice?
I sighed as I hopped down from the bathroom counter, careful not to stab myself in the process. But I didn't let go of the knife. Edward would be back soon; I knew I should just go put it back downstairs and pretend that none of this ever happened. But what if this was a part I liked that happened… No, no. I shook off the thought, because I couldn't continue. And for the most part, I had stopped. I was completely cutting-free, for almost three months now. I'd stopped immediately when he returned, and for a while, it had been easy.
But now it was coming back. The need, the clawing…it was eating me. It burned like venom in my veins, whispering to me in my dreams and acting as a constant devil on my shoulder. And it was hard to resist…mainly because more of me wanted to go back than was scared of the consequences of actions. If it weren't for those Cullen's…
Cullen's. I laughed at myself; it really was kind of ridiculous. I would never in a million years wish the Cullen's to leave; for one, my absolutely perfect boyfriend was one of them. And for another thing, well…just no. I would never desire for them to be gone, even if it did mean that I could cut again. After all, their leaving had been the reason to make me start…
Well now that didn't sound so bad anymore. Oh please, the sane part of me chided, like you wouldn't actually jump off a cliff again if he left…Geez that sounded really bad now that I actually considered it. I mean, really, who does that? Crazy teenage boys, that's who- but normal, not-so-happy young adults? It just shouldn't happen. Yet it had...once, at least. It would never again.
I thought about walking out of the bathroom, I really did. I thought about putting the knife back and going to read a book while I waited for Edward to come back from hunting. I thought it through and completely threw away the thought. This was too much fun.
I wasn't doing anything, so where was the harm? Besides, Edward had broken promises before, and so had I. What was a little danger when you had an immortal looking out for you? I carefully grazed it over my fingers again, placing a light pressure on my hold. Oh, it was so tempting…so tempting, when I had it right here. So tempting to just dig a little farther, to draw blood and watch it swell.
Sure, that was sick. I was human enough that I could admit it; but still, it was good. I wasn't stupid- I'd been to health class and learned my fair share about the process, knew all about the endorphins and the numbing and…
I sighed again and climbed back onto the counter, my feet dangling off as I continued where I'd left off. This opportunity was too good to pass up. I looked in the mirror, watching myself as I continued with my path across my left hand. I trailer it down to my wrist, over the vein, back up to my fingertips, and then flipped over my hand to let the knife's tip tap my palm.
I grinned at the person in the mirror. She was dressed in a light blue top, sleeves rolled up, and jeans to cover up the rest. All in all, there weren't that many remaining. Most cuts would just scar and heal, unless otherwise provoked. I'd been good at provoking, as far as others of my kind went; most lived for that, but me? No, never; I lived for the process, the first cut. Once it was done, it was as good as trash. And no one likes to open a garbage can.
I moved the knife up to my face, tracing along my lower lip. I never went that far before, cutting my face. I'd stuck only to the most inconspicuous parts; legs and arms, occasionally a hip or shoulder. See, that was my secret; don't stick to one place. That way, it had allowed me to remain in short sleeves or- on the rare occasion Forks allowed- shorts. If anyone noticed, it would merely seem as if I'd fallen again. And, being me, that wasn't too hard to believe. If you counted, they actually totaled up to about 25- those left, that is. Many had healed long ago, not even a scar left for proof. It had been to my advantage, that way, and I had no regrets on the process I'd chosen.
I returned my gaze to the mirror. Man, that knife, my skin… I pushed back suddenly, letting the blade clatter noisily into the sink. If I didn't stop now, I wasn't sure I'd be able to later. And Edward would just love that; physical proof he'd hurt me. As if he didn't have enough of a mental case to deal with…
I laughed and, without thinking, leaned over to pick up the knife again. Edward…would hate me for this. No, isn't here, the voice in my head cut in. Edward isn't here. Well, when you put it that way…
I resumed my tracing, not a care in the world. It was eerily quiet, Charlie having gone fishing for the afternoon, and I was left by myself. Not a smart move, boys, that same voiced reproved. I pressed a little harder.
Oh no. Blood. I'd drawn blood, and now I was sucked. It was right across my third knuckle, a barely visible slice…nothing more than a paper-cut, really. How could anyone possibly notice this? They just wouldn't.
In that case… I used the same amount of pressure on a different spot, for similar results. A light line of blood, which quickly clotted and stopped stinging in minutes. Well that was no fun. Had cutting lost its affect? I wondered, but quickly shook off the thought. Of course not, of that I was sure of; I just needed to cut a little harder. But wouldn't Alice see this? Wouldn't Edward smell the blood? Hmm…the logical side of me had a good point. But did it matter? Not to this girl.
But I would have to be careful; lots of minnie cuts, that was all I could spare. I moved the knife up to my neck, staring at myself in the mirror. For some reason, I had the most self-confidence when I did this. I felt powerful, strong. There was even something…sensual, about cutting. It really did help my self-esteem.
I took a deep breath and let it out, cutting a small line across the course of my collarbone. Edward would hardly notice, if that. And if he did, I would tell him that…a cat scratched me. Sure. Oh, hell. A cat? Really Bella, is that the best you can come up with? You're as good as fried. Hmm. Maybe my sane side had a point. After all, when would I ever be exposed to a cat that could scratch me, in the first place? Never…okay, fine, so that one didn't work out. Well, I could always play the 'I tripped' card; that was pretty easy to believe. Yes, that would be what I did…if he asked. Otherwise, there was no reason to even think about it.
I now had three cuts done, and I was getting addicted. I could feel it in my over-pumping bloodstream, hear it in my too-fast heart rate. This was something I needed, how could I have forgotten that? This was what I lived for this was who I was this was-
What the hell had I been thinking, to give this up? No, I would never give this up. I would cut and cut and cut until I died, was changed. It was the only way.
I hurriedly rolled the rest of my sleeve up, going a little deeper with the cuts. They still weren't anything to be too worried about, but I wanted more. More and more and more and …
This was it, I couldn't stop. It was a wall I always came to when I picked back up this knife, when I thought I could control myself, and it was just to see- just for old time's sake. Would I, or wouldn't I?
Because this was baby cutting, this was practice. What I really missed was a gash; a true, blood-spurting gash. One that wouldn't stop bleeding for hours, would open back up in sleep and stain the pillows. Yes, that was what I missed. And sorry to Edward, but my resistance level had sunk down to zero. After months, months of ignoring the urges and fighting back, I would surrender. I would finally, thankfully, give in.
I didn't even smile as I pushed the knife to the side of my wrist, the frenzy kicking in. I barely got in one good cut before something went wrong. And then there was this sound and a door breaking and this metal ringing and my hand not being bloody enough and I wanted to pass out.
Edward was here.
He'd smashed down the door, absolutely smashed it. In record speed he'd grabbed the knife from my frozen figure, a livid expression encasing his whole body. He didn't even look at me; he just shook his head violently and threw the knife into the wall farthest away from me- it stuck. I was ice.
He paced around the small bathroom, clearly trying to calm himself. "Is there something you want to tell me, Bella?Anything you want to share?" His voice was bitter and loud, but still he had not looked at me. I remained speechless, my mind racing to catch up with the minutes' previous events. I stayed where I was; still, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, the embodiment of shocked.
Edward turned around rapidly, coming face to face with me. He was more than livid, he was beside himself with rage. He stalked forward, gaze locked with my own. For the first time in my life, I was scared of him. I should have known that I never should be. I should have known that he couldn't hurt me.
In one swift motion, he was holding both my wrists in his hands. I was still frozen. Keeping his eyes locked with mine, he pulled away and tore off a strip of his own sleeve, tying it around my bleeding hand. His action was so gentle, so tender, that I could hardly believe it came from the man standing in front of me.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting go of my hand. I was afraid of what would come next. I expected anger, yelling, screaming even. I couldn't have been more surprised.
Edward carefully walked over to the bathtub, taking residence on its side. He put his head in his hands, saying nothing. I couldn't speak if I wanted to. He seemed to understand this, for after a moment he lifted his head and looked back over at my wrist- my wrist, not my eyes, and spoke.
"Call me when you're ready to talk," he commanded. And then he was gone, a breeze in the room, a rustle in the trees, the only remaining evidence of his visit lying in the shred of fabric tied to my skin.
Parte dos will be up soon. In the meantime... REVIEW? :)