After a review that a helpful writer has given me, I am thankful for his/her help, I have decided to do this all over again and the disclaimer: I don't own twilight, Stephenie Meyer does, and once again, I'm rather new to this, so please tell me how to improve my writing, thank you!

"You . . . don't . . . want. . . me?"

"No."

Charlie's fork slammed down on the table as I poked my food, seeing something that resembled Ed- him in every thing.

"That's it, Isabella! I'm sending you back to your mom." I looked up from my plate of food and stared at him blankly as my mind numbly registered what he said.

' I am home .' I mumbled, confused.

' I am sending you to Renee, to Phoenix.'

I slowly grasped the meaning of his words and went into a daze, looking down at the brown beef - A vegetarian…

I thought of his beautiful and dazzling golden eyes before succumbing to the darkness. . .

~ ~ ~ Time Skip ~ ~ ~

I woke up to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. Maybe this is heaven and maybe I could rest in eternity with Ed –

I sprang up from the bed that I was sleeping on and gasped. Was this another nightmare ?

' Bella, honey? I'm here.'

I turned to the source of the voice and saw Renee. She smiled comfortingly at me and pulled me into a hug, the ones she used to give me when I have a nightmare.

' Mom. . . , he left me. . . I wasn't . . . good enough. . . '

I sobbed into her shirt as her arms wrapped around me.

" Bella Honey, it's fine, I'm here, I will stick with you.' She smiled and wrapped me in a bear hug while humming a lullaby to me.'

~ ~ ~ Time Skip ~ ~ ~

I woke up expecting to see my wallpaper when I remember what happened. I looked around and looked for my mom but found an empty room that was silent except for the voice of the beeping machine. I stood up hesitantly and the movement tore out a tube that made me bleed.

I stiffened when I heard a bell-like chime behind me.

'Well, well look at that delicious smelling blood.'

I turned around slowly, seeing a face that was supposed to belong on a magazine , a blond boy, muscular and tall, and his eyes a more vivid red than I could ever imagine.

He came over to me and was surprised when I didn't flinch at his superspeed.

He put his mouth at the place where I was bleeding and sucked at the wound, I held in a scream as a burning fire scorched through me.

(The following part doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer)

The pain was bewildering.

Exactly that- I was bewildered. I couldn't understand , couldn't make sense of what was happening.

My body was trying to reject the pain, and I was sucked again and again into a blackness that cut out whole seconds or maybe even minutes of the agony, making it that much harder to keep up with reality.

I tried to separate them.

Non-reality was black, and it didn't hurt so much.

Reality was red, and it felt like I was being sawed I half, hit by a bus, punched by a prize fighter, trampled by bulls , and submerged in acid, all at the same time.

Reality was feeling my body twist and flip when I couldn't possibly move because of the pain.

Reality was knowing that there was something so much more important than all this torture, and not being able to remember what it was.

Reality had come on so fast.

The warmth beside my heart got more and more real, warmer and warmer. Hotter. The heat was so real it was hard to believe that I was imagining it.

Hotter.

Uncomfortable now. Too hot. Much, much too hot.

Like grabbing the wrong end of a curling iron- my automatic rwsponse was to drop the scorching thing in my arms. But there was nothing in my arms. My arms were not curled to my chest. My arms were dead things lying somewhere at my side. The heat was inside me.

The burning grew –rose and peaked and rose again until it surpassed anything I'd ever felt.

I felt the pulse behind the fire raging now in my chest and realized that I'd found my heart again, just in time to wish I never had. To wish that I'd embraced the darkness while I'd still had the chance. I wanted to raise my arms and claw my chest open and rip the heart from it- anything to get rid of this torture. But I couldn't feel my arms, couldn't move one vanished finger.

It could have been seconds or days, weeks or years, but,, eventually, time came to mean something again.

Three things happened together, grew from each other so that I didn't know which came first: time restarted, and I got stronger.

I could feel the control of my body come back to me in increments, and those increments were my first markers of the time passing. I knew it when I was able to twitch my fingers into fists. I knew it, but I did not act on it.

I just had enough strength to lie there unmoving while I was charred alive.

My hearing got clearer and clearer, and I could count the frantic, pounding of my heart to mark the time.

I could count the shallow breaths that gasped through my teeth.

Twenty-one thousand, nine hundred seventeen and a half seconds later, the pain changed.

On the good-news side of things, it started to fade from my fingertips and toes. Fading slowly, but at least it was doing something new. This had to be it. The pain was on its way out. . .

And the bad news. The fire in my throat wasn't the same as before. I wasn't only on fire, but now I was parched, too. Dry as bone. So thirsty. Burning fire, and burning thirst. . .

Also bad news: the fire inside my heart got hotter.

How was that possible?

And then -oh!

My heart took off, beating like helicopter blades, the sound almost a single sustained note: it felt like it would grind through my ribs. The fire flared up in the center of my chest, sucking the last remnants of the flames from the rest of my body to fuel the most scorching blaze yet. The pain was enough to stun me, to break through my iron grip on the stake. My back arched, bowed as if the fire was dragging me upward by my heart.

I allowed no other piece of my body to break rank as my torso slumped back to the table.

It became a battle inside – my sprinting heart racing against the attacking fire. Both were losing. The fire was doomed, having consumed everything that was combustible; my heart galloped toward its last beat.

The fire constricted,, concentrating inside that one remaining human organ with a final, unbearable surge. The surge was answered by a deep, hollow-sounding thud. My heart stuttered twice, and then thudded quietly again once more.

And then I opened my eyes and looked around me.

(I repeat, the above part DOES NOT belong to me, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer)

Everything was very clear, but I couldn't care less.

All I saw was a blond vampire looking at me in shock and I heard another voice in the back of my head

She didn't scream, how?

And then all was overwhelmed by a wave of sadness. I was to spend eternity ALONE!

I sank to the floor and looked at the vampire before me.

His whole life story appeared in front of me . . .

I then knew that he was called Riley and he was changed by…..

To be continued. . .

(Guys, pretty please give me one, single, tiny, measly review?)