A/N: Okay, if you've read my stories, then you know that I've never, ever, written a E/B fic. Ever. Nor will I, for that matter. But, I am willing to write a depression-and-angst-filled New Moon fic. However, please note that in my world Bella is in no way whiny, pathetic, self-pitying etc. She's simply depressed and suicidal.(God, I miss the good ol' days of the angst-free Harry Potter drabbles.)
Disclaimer: Nothing you haven't heard before.
And after the storm, I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck, I look up
Mumford & Sons, After The Storm
She feels blank, empty inside.
Charlie looks at her and there's a faint sign of recognition there, in his tired eyes. (He knows how she feels.)
It's been a long time since she stopped crying - hours, days, weeks, months, possibly - but it's only because there's no tear left to shed. There's really no place to find consolation. Reading used to be an outlet for her - a shelter of sorts - but it proves to be fruitless now. (Every time she browses through Wuthering Heights, she comes across his name.)
School is a nightmare as well. She never really felt the urge to participate in Jessica's gossip-fest or be the Guinea pig of Mike's feeble attempts at flirting, let alone now. At first they (seem to do their best to) pester her with constant questions and efforts to lift her morale, but it has become apparent that her ways have discouraged them. Thank God for that.
Her grades are fluctuating now, which makes Charlie furious. (All that for a goddamn boy? He just can't. accept. that.) Bella seems completely ignorant of that, though. As it doesn't matter. Something that infuriates Charlie more. (It's her future dammit.)
Renee calls once. She sounds... happy. Bella can't be anything but grateful for that. That's what she wanted, right? That's why she had chosen to live in this godforsaken part of the States in the first place. To make her happy. Suddenly, she wants to lock herself in the bedroom and never come out again. (How melodramatic of her...)
Charlie is desperate now. Somehow, he concludes that it's his fault. He was the weak one. When Renee had left him he hadn't handled it better that Bella does now. (Though Harry and Billy seemed to handle it a whole lot better judging by the not-so-flattering comments they made about his ex-wife.) He's had hour-long conversations with Renee who suggests that he buy her a cat or a dog or an appointment with a shrink - the latter exasperates Charlie, who hangs up furiously. Bella is never aware of these talks.
At some point he asks for Sue's advice - desperate times call for desperate measures - and his mouthy friend - she, as well, has expressed her "admiration" and "respect" for Renee on multiple occasions in a rather colorful language - suggests that Bella spend some time with Billy's boy, Jacob. (He's a good boy, Charlie. He would be a good influence on her.) Charlie considers it for a while. In the end, he decides that boys - no matter whose children they are - are never, ever trustworthy. (It's happened once, he thinks and he won't let that happen again.)
Bella seems oblivious to that. She feels like a zombie. Hell, she looks like one, as well. Her life has become predetermined. Not even her ever so common clumsiness-related accidents appear to surprise her, let alone wake her from her lethargy. She might as well be dead. (That's a disturbing thought that's crossed her mind more than once.)
Is there some kind of button that switches everything off? A kind of button that would make her entire body freeze all at once? Or maybe one that would shut down all her systems, one by one, in slow agony. After months of painstaking, silent torture she was willing to endure that.
[Bells? Jessica Stanley is on the phone.] No answer.
These dark thoughts still linger on Bella's mind.
God, this was painful to write. But, hey, at least after all. these. months. I wrote something.
