He wouldn't care
what would happen if Bella didn't want to keep living?
I woke screaming again. the nightmare had woken me. No surprise there. My bed was soaked with my sweat. Five months. That's how long he had been gone for. To this exact day five months. I didn't want to keep track. I just did. Some how I knew Charlie was gone for the day. I also knew I would be late for school, but who cares? I was failing and ditching anyway. I looked absently towards the drawer where I kept my knife. Then to my scared wrists. Some where fresh, less than a weak old, others were a day after the week. My gaze flickered again to the drawer. Him leaving had really hurt me, messed me up. My friends at school, if they knew I was the reason he had left. Would have said I was a shiny new toy gone old, broken, unworking. They were close. I was fresh meat gone bad... Or rather fresh blood really. I was still safe, my cuts hadn't gone deep enough to kill. Just take a way the mental pain. It's true what they say, the physical pain distracts you more. I had thrown out all my clothes that didn't come down to my wrists. My chest was hurting right now, just thinking about this. It was like a hole had been punched through.
I reached over with my right hand and opened the drawer. Then I grabbed my knife. It was blue, his favorite color. I had been thinking about him to much this morning. The blade was sharp it didn't hurt...that much. I hadn't broken my stupid promis yet. His was broken the moment he said it. As if he would care. I thoughtas I brought the knife down to my wrist. I angled it over an old scar, far from my vein. He wouldn't care if you died. He wouldn't care enough to care. That was a voice in my head. It spoke to me alot lately. Sometimes it sounding like them. It didn't this time. That was sad, it hurt. He doesn't care abought me enough to care if I live or die. I corrected the voice. I reposishioned the knife. It was over my main vein now. I breathed deeply and lowered it into my skind. Cut through it nicely. Like a nife through butter. I gasped, almost taking the knife out. But I was still thinking how Edward wouldn't care. The hole in my chest ripped open at his name. My blue knife cut through deeper. My blood pooling as it cut my vein. The blood was staining me, my knife and my bed. I didnt' care. Though the knife I was a little hurt about. I cried out. Cried out his name. Why isn't it working? I snarled the question in my mind. The knife went deeper. He was forgotten now.
I pulled the knife out. I had gone to far. I hat to call 911. But I didn't want to. There was no more reason to live. I closed my hand tight around my knife. I lay back on my blood soaked pillow and closed my eyes. Unconsiousness wasn't far off. I was dying. Edward I love you. Was MY last thought. But he doesn't love you. The voice in my head reminded me. I managed a weak nodd. It was true. Edward would never love, he probably never had.
"No!"
This was a one shot story, tell me if you would like to See Edward's side, or someones? Becasue I will continue.~Kyleena~
Review review review please. I love it.