Okay, look, you guys, I know this story sucks, and I know it's probably not very funny. I just thought I'd stick it up here because it was rotting away in my 'Stories' folder. Actually, I wrote this story while my friend was at my house (oOonickyoOo) and she helped me a little with the plot. I was writing it for her because I didn't have an account yet and I didn't feel like making one.

Snaps for oOoNickyoOo!!

LoL T, this is for you! Can you believe I actually stuck this up here?

Bella's POV

Okay, so here's the story:

Edward was out hunting with Alice and the rest of the Cullen family.

Charlie was watching the game at Billy's.

Angela was in Port Angeles seeing a movie with Ben.

So what was I supposed to do? I could pick up a book and read…

But if I had done that, it wouldn't have been nearly be as fun, would it?

So I opened my closet and viola! My scarves. Yes, I collected scarves. I started collecting them when Edward was away hunting with his family because I got bored very easily.

I had red ones, patterned ones, festive ones, and rainbow ones. They are beautiful, I know.

I picked up my really pretty purple scarf and wrap it around my neck. I started making funny faces in my mirror with it on; it entertains me for a while. But I quickly bored of it, so I reached for another of my festive scarves and pulled out a black one with red splatter paint on it from when I was painting a dresser for my room.

I pulled the scarf around my neck and pretended it's choking me, just as I was pretending to fall to the ground, I heard a noise outside the window.

"Bella? Oh God! Bella, no stop! I'm sorry for leaving so long but please, just stop!"

"What? Oh you thought—"

"Bella, we can get help. Carlisle knows some really great therapists. We can check you into a clinic or something. Oh, God, this was all my fault, I should have never left you in the first place…" Edward's voice trailed off and he started to mumble about how it was his fault.

"Edward! It's not your—"

"What brought this on in the first place?"

"Edward, I—"

"I'm sorry, you probably don't want to talk about it."

"But—"

"Bella, come with me, we can get you help."

"But…whatever."

Edward grabbed my hand and led me out the front door. He carried me into his car and we drove away in silence. That was not good; he thought that I was trying to kill myself. The only way I could prove to him that I wasn't suicidal was to tell him about my scarf collection, no way, that would be so embarrassing. As far as he knew, I was suicidal. And as far as I was going to inform him, I'm suicidal.

Much fun.

Maybe I would go home and get some black clothes to pretend I'm gothic. I could join one of those cults with people that want to die. I read about a golf cult one time…weird.

"Bella, we're here." What? We're not there. This isn't the Cullen's house. Oh, there's a sign. It says: Mental Institution For The Troubled Teen. Oh God. Shoot me now, I thought.

"Edward…"

"Bella, it is unsafe to have you at your house alone without anyone to watch you. You might try that scarf stunt again. Nearly scared me half to de- uh…Nevermind."

"Edward, I'm not mentally troubled."

"The first symptom is always denial, my Bella, always denial."

"Whatever."

Edward took my hand and everything-but-dragged me into the building.

I hate the place the moment I walk in it.

There were fluffy walls

There was a rack on the wall with straight jackets.

There were people. Dressed. In. White. Scrubs.

If I knew this was going to happen, maybe I would have pulled a little harder on that scarf while it was around my neck.

A man with a white scrub walked up to us and he smiled at Edward.

"Ah, this must be Bella," he said. How in God's name does this man know my name? Oh please, all that's good in this world, please tell me that Edward does not come here for therapy!

"Yes, sir, can you fit her in right now? She…er…tried to kill herself."

"Of course, we haven't had many suicide attempts lately and they're always the most entertaining to help the patient with." There was no sarcasm in his voice whatsoever. I'm scared.

"Well then, here she is, I'll be back in an hour."

"But, Edward! Don't—"

"Bella, the doctors know what they're doing."

"Grr…"

"Bye, love"

"No wait! Ugh…whatever." Edward had already walked out the giant bronze door before he heard me, and the doctor turned towards me.

"So, if you'll have a seat we can talk this out. Would you like a free aspirin?" He wanted to know as he led me into a white room and shut the door, motioning to a black couch.

"I'm not in pain," I explained, sitting.

"Yes, sweetie, you are," he replied pitifully.

"No, sir, I'm not." I was starting to get a little ticked at this guy.

He wrote something down as I fidgeted a bit in my position that I had been practically forced into.

"Why did you attempt suicide?" Sir, I didn't really attempt suicide. See, I have this collection of scarves. It was innocent, really. That's what I wished I could say. But obviously, I couldn't for the sake of being laughed at forever.

"I wasn't attempting suicide, sir."

"What were you doing, then?"

"I was…"

"You were what?"

"Look, if I tell you what I was doing, will you promise not to tell anyone?" He nodded, and I whispered my collection problem into his ear as quietly as humanly possible.

I heard quite a few people outside the door laughing. A few were male and a few were female. Oh crap. A human wouldn't have heard anything, but of course a vampire would hear it loud and clear.

A burly man with curly dark hair burst through the door and lifted me up. Emmett.

"Bella, you are the silliest human I have ever met," he told me as he let me down.

"Whatever, please just, don't make fun of my for too long, okay? I don't know if I could handle being tortured by you forever," I practically begged the Cullens as we walked outside. I didn't want to have this stuck on me even after I became a vampire.

"Bella, Bella, Bella. You should know that we are going to hold this to you for a very long time. We don't mess around with chances like this," Emmett said, laughing.

I sighed; this was going to be a very long existence.

Er...Like it? Probably not...but I thought it was pretty creative XD.

Um...Did I tell you guys that MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW?? You can either vote on my profile page or in a review how old I am going to be, and if you get it right, I will either
A: Write a chapter the way you want it in any of my 'in progress' stories (but no MAJOR plot line twists that I don't approve of)
B: Dedicate my next story to you
C: Other (whatever you want, really, as long as it's not major)
Got that? You have 7 days!

XOXO
Abi