My old truck chugged its way up the Cullen's driveway. I didn't like coming here, to his house, but I had to drop off the monthly package of cash that I coincidentally won from a scholarship. He must think I'm an idiot to believe I was lucky enough to win a scholarship, that I didn't even apply for, which gave me $5,000 a month with no strings attached. Of course, there was no way for me to turn it down. I had exhausted all avenues, made phone calls, emails, refused delivery, and harassed the bank but nothing would make it stop. Burning the money was a possibility but then I was indirectly accepting it. Now, each month when it came, I made the painful journey down memory lane to drop the unopened package on their dinning room table. Maybe in 100 years, after I'm dead a gone, they'll get their stupid money back.

I had a little help to make it through this journey. Since he left, I found the comfort of drugs and alcohol. It wasn't something I frequently used but it could bring me some escape and remind me what it meant to be happy. Unknowingly it pleased Charlie. To him, I spent every other weekend at a friend's house in Port Angeles. My new friends were not the best influence, but they were good people and whether Charlie suspected anything, I did not know. I never came home drunk or obviously high but he was a cop and if he noticed something then he was turning a blind eye to in. My depression has been hard on us all and it is the only thing that brought some life back into me. This was one of the rare times I used these aids away from my friends.

Any thought of him, of them, still caused me great pain. My throat would close up and I'd clutch my chest to hold what was left of me together. It was unbearable. I didn't want to forget them, but I wasn't strong enough to remember them either. The conundrum made me crazy. I would see him! Hallucinations would follow me whether I was sober or not. He would yell at me, warn me, smile at me, and it was beautiful. I loved every second of it. Yet, I did not understand how to control it or anticipate it. He just came and went as he pleased.

Now a little high, I drove up the long driveway to do what I had to do. As the house came into view my arm wrapped around my torso and I reminded myself to breath. It's going to be okay. Don't think about it. I shut off the engine, took one last hit from my pipe and stepped out of the car. I grabbed the package from the cab and walked straight up the stairs and threw the front door, they had never bothered to lock it. Something seemed different. I looked around but couldn't place it. Knowing not to trust my mind anyways I continued forward into the dinning room and dropped the box of money on the table. So far, so good. I turned towards the kitchen for a glass of whiskey before I left. I had hidden a few things in the house and knew I would need it to settle myself for the trip back home. As hard as it was to come here, leaving was even harder. Sorrowful feelings of goodbyes haunted me every time I left, and memories of the last time I saw Alice, Esme, Emmett and the rest plagued my mind.

I pushed open the kitchen door and there stood my beautiful angel. With a slightly startled expression his lips seemed to whisper my name, "Bella". I paused only long enough for my lips to curl into a sly smile. I would suffer for this later, but these hallucinations were what I lived for. He never appeared to me in this house before, I could almost pretend that I was living in a different time, a happier time.

The bottle was in the cabinet and I moved towards it without taking my eyes off him. My heart was soring, and I was in paradise. His eyes were black and bore into mine, his amber hair messed up as I always remembered and his white, marble skin called to me. He was beautiful, and I wanted to hear his voice. Would he yell at me today? Almost immediately I got what I wanted.

As I pulled down a glass he asked, "What are you doing?" A concerned look covered his face and I smiled sheepishly at him. As if my mind could conjure up something that didn't know what I do on occasion. I took a sip.

"Drinking is not healthy for you Bella. I hope this isn't something you do often." I rolled my eyes. This daydream is going to chastise me today. Go ahead, I'll hear it happily, I thought. My smile grew larger in anticipation but nothing more came. Instead the look of concern turned to a face full of pain and guilt. The angel cast its eyes down and spoke again.

"Bella, I know things have probably changed and you hate me, but leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. Might you have it in your heart to hear me out?"

My body froze, and all the blood drained from my face. What was this ghost saying! I wasn't so far gone to make up such a painful hallucination. To imagine words that could never be true. My delusions never spoke of such things. I couldn't fathom the words and angry rushed over me. Before I knew it, I hurled the glass at the unbelievable vision and it shattered. Pieces flew and clattered to the ground.

Hurt and shocked, Edward raise his hands in surrender. "You have every right to be angry-"

"Shut-Up!" I screamed. My eyes bulged as I comprehended what I just saw. The glass broke against his body, it should have gone right through him! Slowly, I lifted my arm and stepped towards him.

"Bel-," he stared.

"Shush!" I refused to hear another word.

Close enough now, I reached my hand out to touch his shoulder. It was solid. It was cold, hard and definitely there. I could not move. What was I touching? What was happening? Was Edward really here? I looked up into his eyes and he gave me a sympathetic smile.

No. I yanked my arm away and stepped back. No. This can't be real. He would never come back. He does not love me. I am only a stupid human and a distraction for him.

I could not breath, my head shook back and forth, and my feet pulled me backwards. Have I gone crazy? Is it the drugs? Were they laced? "I'm crazy. I'm crazy." A few steps backwards, "I've gone crazy."

My angel took a step towards me. Confusion, concern and hesitation crossing his face.

Hitting the kitchen wall, I shook my head and slid my back down it. "You're not real. This isn't real." Wrapping my arms around my knees and tucking my head I repeated the words, "You're not real. This isn't real. I'm not crazy." Eyes squeezed shut, tears streamed down my face and I was hyperventilating. I continued to repeat the words, "You're not real. This isn't real. I'm not crazy." I just had to get ahold of myself, he would disappear soon.

Then came the most heart shattering voice. "It's okay sweetie. You're not crazy. We're real." Esme's tender, caring voice penetrated me and I could not take it. I do not hallucinate anyone else's voice. This was too much. My brain could not comprehend. When an icy touch caressed my forearm, I jumped to me feet and ran.

My senses shut down, I saw nothing as I rushed through the dinning room. The calls from behind did not reach my ears as I lunged through the front door and my clumsiness was held at bay until I reached my truck. There, I dropped my keys and, in my fumble, kicked them further under my truck. I dropped to my knees and grabbed for them in desperation. In my crouched position I could see their feet on the porch. They were there. Watching me.

The sobs came forward and I could do nothing to move. I was paralyzed by my despair and curled into a ball on the ground. Crying in hysteria, I laid there, waiting for the end.