'I don't want you.'

These are the words that were on a loop inside my head. They were engraved into the back of my skull, into my heart, into the back of my eyes when they were closed. They shook me to my core. These are the words I dreaded and hated the most. There are the words that broke me into a million tiny pieces and left me scrambling around the ground, trying to salvage what was left in the hope that I could put myself back together again. I tried, but the edges are jagged and the shards overlap, never fitting back seamlessly as the once did.

I used to bask in the light, but now only darkness covers me. My fairy tale blinkers have been removed and I see the world for what it really is. Callous, cold and empty. There is no light anymore. There is no hope. There is no life for me here when he isn't by my side.

You know when you see these movies about girls that suffer with depression after a break up? The ones where they barely eat, barely talk, barely move? I always thought that that was just for attention, that they wanted to milk the loss for as much as it was worth. How mistaken I was.

That's exactly how it is. You feel numb and broken and nothing matters anymore. Nothing matters because they're not with you. They're not by your side, holding your hand and whispering into your ear. You don't realize how much their company meant to you until it's not there anymore. You don't realize how lucky you are.

I am Isabella Swan, and it's been a year since he left me alone. A whole year has gone past and I still feel exactly the same as I did the second that those words came out of his mouth.

But now he's back, and I feel myself getting weaker every day. Who would have thought that the one thing I wanted to happen the most would send me spiralling down into the depths of myself, even when I thought that I could sink no further.

Chapter 1

Shutting Down

I'm running through the woods, chasing something. Chasing someone. The wind whistles in my ears as I constantly have to catch a hold of a branch to prevent me from slipping over. All I know is that I have to find them. I'm not complete without this person. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I pick up the pace, and I almost feel like I'm flying. Like I'm with him…

My eyes snap open and I promptly bolt upright. Blinking down hard to adjust my eyes to the light, I scan my surroundings. Desk, closet, bed. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pull the tangled covers back from around my legs and draw in a breath. I'm home.

Then the loneliness settles itself back in like a boulder in my stomach. I'm home, and he's not here. It's just another day of trying to look interested, trying to make myself better again, trying to get over him. Trying to get over Ed-. I cut my thoughts off mid-sentence. The name is like acid to me now. Each time I think of it, heat travels down the length of my spine and burns my heart. Every time I think of it the waves lap over, eroding piece after piece away and turning it into dust. I wonder how much more I can take, I wonder how much of my heart can melt away and break off before I shut down completely.

Remembering the light, I turn my alarm clock and see that it's almost seven thirty. Time to drag myself into the shower. Grabbing my things as I make my way to the bathroom, I catch a look at my reflection. Dull, sunken eyes, skeletal cheek bones and dry, cracked lips glare back at me. This is nothing new, which is why I tend to avoid mirrors as much as I can these days, but sometimes I forget. Sometimes I forget how disgusting I look and glance at myself, expecting to see my blushed, full cheeks and eyes full of life. When I see myself I'm reminded of how much of a failure I must be to Charlie, and also to myself, and I feel tears stinging my eyes and threatening to fall.

I close the bathroom door a little too hard and pull my clothes off a little too roughly. Turning the dial to the highest setting, I step into the shower and revel in its heat. The steam rises as the water hits my naked flesh and I almost feel at peace, as though the liquid is cleansing my body and washing my emotions away. I don't really bother much with my hair anymore since I had it cut short, but today I lather in some strawberry scented shampoo as it's getting to the stage where people are pointing out how much of a mess it looks. Anything to make me seem normal.

Alas, the heat begins to fade and I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself as I collect my laundry from the damp floor and make my way back to my room. Dumping it into the hamper, I dry myself off and slip on some old jeans, and oversized sweater and sneakers, leaving my hair to air dry as I sling my bag over my shoulder and make my way downstairs. Charlie must have already left for work as his cruiser isn't outside, so I grab my keys and a granola bar on the way to my truck, relieved that I don't have to try half-heartedly to make conversation this morning. It's harder to feign happiness when Charlie's around, and it breaks my heart to have to lie to him.

Zoning out, I drive myself to school on auto pilot, only realizing that I'm there when my car is parked and I'm turning the engine off. Sometimes I scare myself with how quickly I lose my concentration these days and for the amount of time that I do. It's got to be dangerous, right? But I always end up at school, even sometimes on the weekend when I tell Charlie that I'm going to meet Angela in Port Angeles. I'm not, of course, but he doesn't need to know that. He needs to think that I'm getting better. Pasting on a smile that I'm sure looks like a grimace to everyone else, I put my headphones on and select a playlist. White Blank Page by Mumford & Sons, one of my favourite bands, comes on and I step out of my truck, relaxing as the calming, familiar vocals reach my ears.

Too lost in the music, I don't see the silver Volvo until it's too late, until I'm almost next to it. Immediately I feel my heart being to pound violently in my chest, blood rushing through my veins at a tremendous speed. I'm sure to the outsider that it looked as though I was choking, and that's how it felt. It felt as though I couldn't get enough oxygen into my lungs with each breath. He's back. He's back. He's back. These words consumed me until sense started to take over. He can't be back. He said that I would never see him again. Why would he come back after what he said? Sweat forms on my forehead and I turn, refusing to believe what I just saw, but in doing so I only clarify it.

There he is, standing a few metres in front of me, his copper locks perfectly positioned and his golden eyes staring straight into mine. My angel and reason for living. My-. I stop myself and, for the first time since he left, I feel anger towards him. How dare he come back after what he said. How dare he stand there like nothing is wrong, like he didn't rip my world apart. As I take him in I notice that his siblings are also there with him, smiling brightly in my direction. Emmett with his arms around Rosalie's waist and Jasper holding Alice's hips as his chin touches her shoulder. The picture of perfection and love. They left you, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. They left you alone and carried on with their lives because you weren't good enough for them. Hearing this I pull my bag closer and turn my music up louder, forcing one foot in front of the other. As I near them he starts to walk forward, but stops still as I muster up every ounce of the rage inside and glare at him. His face then turns to confusion and he looks back at his siblings in shock, as though he can't quite believe that sweet, innocent Bella just did that. Again he tries to walk forward, this time followed by the rest of them, but I purposely change my direction and make a beeline for the doors with my head down, as though they didn't exist.

As I make my way through the doors the panic settles back in and I push my way into the nearest bathroom, locking the stall door as I sink down the wall and find myself on the floor, just like when he left me. Pressure starts to build in my skull and the tears pour down my cheeks as I realize the magnitude of what just happened. He came back. He came back and I didn't fall on the ground in front of him, begging him to take me back. I was strong and brave, and I couldn't help but feel proud of myself.

Composing myself, I dried my eyes and unlocked the door. Before heading out I took another look at my reflection out of habit and wished I hadn't. Although I felt that what I did was strong, looking into my eyes I saw what I could have done and what a tiny part of me still wishes that I had done, even after all this time. Even though the thought of it disgusted me, I wished that I had gotten down on my knees for him. I wished that I had begged for him to take me back, and that scared me.