I didn't have the dreams anymore. I hadn't for months, at least by my reckoning. Which meant, as it normally was, my alarm was the first thing that woke me.

I rubbed my face, sighing sharply, trying to force that last sleep from me. I turned, rolling out of bed, the fall to the floor definitely waking me the rest of the way up. I landed on my palms and the balls of my feet, starting to do push-ups. I passed my usual fifteen, going to twenty, feeling the euphoric press and pull of muscle. Standing after I was starting to feel the slight high of long association, I made my bed in strict order, pulling sheets and blankets tight. With everything in order, I rolled on deodorant, grabbed my free weights, and did two sets of biceps curls, each a set of twenty on each arm, followed by two sets of the same of triceps extensions. When I was done, I did forty squats and another fifteen push-ups, cooling down with the routine two-minute plank. Running to the bathroom, I shaved, then showered and brushed my teeth at the same time, only a rinse without bothering to shampoo my new shorter hair or doing a thorough soaping up. Wearing the towel back to my room, I hung it on the drying rack, dropped my sleepwear in the hamper, and grabbed the clothes for the day, hung neatly on my Thursday hanger. I put on the starched shirt, the creased pants, and the simple, ironed button up, all interchangeable with every other shirt, pants, and button-up combo. Getting dressed, I glanced at my calendar, seeing that I had a shift at Newton's after school today.

I looked out the window. Carrie was already gone. Putting my earbuds in, I started my iPod, hardcore rock numbing me and drowning out the world as I had a quick breakfast, all organic, and packed my lunch with the same. Grabbing my coat and bag, I walked out the door, locking it behind me.

I had time before school started. I read my books, looking over my notes, firming up everything in my mind. I left my earbuds in until I got to class, covertly pulling them out and shutting everything down before I made it to my seat at the back of the room. As I had with the calendar this morning, I tried to ignore the date.

The class went as they always did. The teacher talked, and I wrote notes. He or she asked questions, various peoples answering them. I turned in assignments and moved onto the next class. I ate lunch in my truck, or outside if the weather was nice. If I wasn't in class, the earbuds were in. I spoke to no one. I looked at nothing I didn't have to, staring openly at anyone who dared to stare back until they got uncomfortable and left me alone. More classes, and then the school day ended.

I drove to Newton's, doing my homework in the truck, despite the numerous offers to have me do it in the employee lounge. I started my shift as I always did, ahead of schedule. After a half hour or so, the actual time of my schedule shift rolled around and I clocked in. The Newtons weren't willing to pay me for more than my schedule hours, so this was my compromise, despite their protestations. I worked my hours, finished my shift, then did any additional stocking and cleanup as needed be. Then I went home, earbuds in. I came home, prepared dinner either for just myself if my mother had already made it or for both of us if she had not. I ate beside her in silence, the earbuds not coming out. Then I went upstairs, finished any homework I still had left. Once finished, I did the same workout that I had in the morning, plus any additional exercises I was considering working into my routine. Then, I grabbed more sleepwear, showered thoroughly, again brushing my teeth during. Drying off and redressing, I didn't bother with combing my hair, the length too short for any real need. I then dropped my dirty clothes in the hamper, straightened anything out of its meticulous placement, and I marked the day off my calendar. Lying in bed, I turned off the light, staring at the darkened ceiling, waiting for sleep to find me.

That was the hardest time. I had nothing to do. I had no routine to follow, no structure to be held to. My mind could wander into painful, soul-shattering topics before I could stop myself. And, of course, there was always the chance the dreams would come back. But, that night, especially that night, it was hard. Today had been the day. It had been one year since I had come to Forks. One year since my life had been irrevocably altered. Now, it was again unrecognizable in turn.

I laid motionless, staring at nothing, willing sleep to come. And, as I feared, the dreams came back.

The meadow was bright, piercingly so, the sun bouncing around the leaves and grass and flowers. As I always did, I turned around and around, trying to find some way out of the clearing, somewhere to run, but the dense woods left me trapped.

"Ben."

No! No, no, no, no, no!

"This is a dream," I whispered. "It's a dream. This is a dream. It's just a dream. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's a dream! It isn't real!"

"Ben," she said soothingly, cajolingly. "It's okay. Relax. It's alright."

I felt the cool hand against my back. I rolled away, keeping my eyes tight shut, my hands and feet scrabbling to get under me.

"Don't touch me!" I cried. "It's a dream, it's a dream, a dream, just a dream!"

"Ben," she said. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"No, no, no," I moaned. "No. No. No..."

"I never want to hurt you, Ben."

"Liar!" I screamed. "Liar, liar, liar!"

"I lo-"

"Don't!" I screeched. "Shut up! Shut! Up! Leave me alone!"

The hands returned. I was too exhausted to keep fighting. I felt like my limbs were lead weights. I refused to believe it, to take comfort in it, refused to let it in.

"Please," I begged. "Please, please. Just... please, just leave me alone."

"Love," she said. "I can't. You're hurting. I have to help you. Let me do this. You can let me do this much."

"I..." I whimpered. "I can't!"

"Everything will be alright," she said, arms encircling me. "Let go. It will be alright."

"I..."

I woke up.

"NOOOO!" I screamed. "No! No! No! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!"

I cried for the first time in months. I hit the wall hard enough that my bed shifted. I pressed harder, shifting it further, feeling the strength, the pressure and release, the strain. I got up, pushing my bed back where it was, immediately falling to the floor, doing push-ups. I hit thirty, nearly crumpling. I stayed on the floor, breathing hard.

"Just leave me alone," I whispered. "Please. Just leave me alone..."