AN: I do not own the Twilight Saga or any of its characters, etc. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer, blah, blah, blah.

I have to say that there are TRIGGER WARNINGS throughout this, especially in this chapter. I will not warn you again, so please read at your own risk. I will not be held responsible if you find this triggering. Stay strong x

"Bella, we're leaving."

"Why now? Another year-"

"Bella it's time. How much longer could we stay in Forks, after all? Carlisle can barley pass for thirty, he's claiming thirty-three now. We'd have to start over soon, regardless."

I remembered not understanding what he meant.

"When you say we-" I whispered.

"I mean my family and myself." Each word was separate and distinct.

I shook my head back and forth.

"Okay," I said. "I'm coming with you."

"You can't, Bella. Where we're going… It's not the right place for you."

"Where you are is the right place for me."

"I'm no good for you, Bella."

"Don't be ridiculous." I wanted to sound angry, but it sounded like I was begging. "You're the very best part of my life."

"My world is not for you," he said grimly.

"What happened with Jasper – that was nothing, Edward! Nothing!"

"You're right," he agreed. "It was exactly what was to be expected."

"You promised! In Phoenix, you promised you would stay-"

"As long as that would be best for you," he interrupted to correct me.

"NO!" I often thought back to that night, and sometimes it all felt like a dream; like he was never really there. Only the excruciating pain I felt in my chest when I thought of that night reminded me that he was real. I tried to block everything out, and for a while it worked. But four words always stood out the most:

"I don't want you…" Of course not, why would someone like him want someone like me? I couldn't give him everything he wanted; I couldn't be everything he wanted. I was never good enough.

"It will be as if I never existed." You got that right. Not a single trace of the Cullens - I forced the word out in my head - was to be seen in Forks. Nobody mentioned the gorgeous doctor or his wife; the kids at school didn't bring up the four supermodel children they'd adopted. At least, they weren't mentioned around me. No one really noticed me anymore; I'd sort of just… faded away. I hardly spoke, and made sure I didn't stand out. I got average grades, cooked typical meals for Charlie and myself, I didn't do anything extraordinary or worth of recognition. I was normal; except at night. During my slumber, I found myself dreaming of that night in the forest. I was always screaming. At first, Charlie would come in to make sure I wasn't being murdered, but as the months went by, he stopped caring. It was just another one of Bella's silly little nightmares.

Each day was like the one before it. Get up, go to school, come home, do homework, cook, sleep; a pattern that I was most comfortable with. On weekends it was harder; I had to find something that would occupy my time. My friends never called, so I didn't bother calling them. I didn't want to. Why put on a happy face and pretend that I was okay? I often just sat in my room and read. Charlie would go out fishing with his friends Harry Clearwater and Billy Black. At Thanksgiving, I went over to Florida with my mom and Phil. They noticed something was wrong, but never questioned me. I guessed that Charlie had pre-warned them. On Christmas Day, Charlie and I invited Billy and his son Jacob over for a meal. I cooked everything without being asked. Jacob offered to help, but I didn't take it. I needed the distraction from everything.

I knew that I had serious depression; a doctor didn't need to tell me that. Charlie didn't seem to pay attention enough to seek medical attention for me. I never sought out help; I just kept to myself and dealt with it. Time passed, and I barely even realised it. I'd managed to make myself become numb, because that blocked out the pain I dreaded to feel. But feeling numb was painful too, and by January I couldn't take it any longer.

I'd thought about doing it before, but I wasn't quite sure how. I'd heard about self-harm somewhere in a magazine or on TV show that Jessica had talked about. Inconspicuously, I'd been searching around the house for sharp objects to hurt myself with. Kitchen knives were too obvious and I didn't want to break the razor that I used to shave. I was too self-conscious to buy another one. After a while, I found myself giving up. Perhaps harming myself would only make the situation worse rather than the preferred better? I sat in my room as always, when something caught my eye.

My pencil sharpener; I hardly used it, so the blade would be fairly sharp. The only problem was the screw that held it in place. I didn't know where Charlie kept his screw drivers. I thought about asking him, but I would need an alibi. After a little thought I decided on what I should tell him.

"Dad, the battery in my clock is broken. I need to replace it. Where do you keep the screw drivers?" I asked him. He got up out of his chair, meaning to go and fetch it.

"No, no I'll get it. Just tell me where it is," I said, ushering him back to his seat.

"It's okay Bells, I need another beer anyway." Charlie walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He pulled a small screwdriver from the 'bits and bobs' drawer that was in the counter next to it.

"This the size you need?" He asked me. It looked about right. I took it from him and headed back upstairs as I thanked him.

"Don't you need a battery?"

"Already got one, Dad, thanks!" I called down from my room. It was a total lie. Back in my room, I found that the screwdriver did in fact fit the tiny screw and I managed to get the blade out of my pencil sharpener. I held it in front of my face as though it was the answer to all of my problems. I found a small box to hide it in and put the now useless pencil sharpener in the trash. I took the screw driver back to where it belonged.

"Everything working now, Bells?" Charlie asked as I passed the living room.

"Yep, everything seems to be in order," I said as I once again headed back up to my room. I put the box that contained my weapon of choice into the medicine cabinet. Charlie would never look in there - it had all of my female toiletries inside and he was too much of a man to put any of his things in there. I headed back to my room to finish my homework. It was only 8:00 P.M. and I figured that when Charlie was asleep it would be the best time to begin my act.

I was jittery for the rest of the night, but thankfully Charlie didn't notice. I got ready for bed as normal and said goodnight to him. He didn't suspect a thing. I lay in bed until I heard Charlie's snores. As soon as I was sure he was sleeping, I crept out of bed and snuck into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I looked at myself in the mirror; dark circles had made themselves at home under my eyes. How much sleep had I been getting over the past few months? Unable to bear the hideous sight of myself any longer, I opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the box that kept my treasure hidden.

I felt somewhat nervous about my first cut. I'd never done this before. What was I supposed to do exactly? I played with the blade a little while, contemplating why I was going to do this. It was supposed to make me feel better, right? That was good. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Here goes nothing, I thought to myself as I dragged the blade across my forearm. It cut so smoothly that at first I didn't feel it. After a couple of seconds, the small incision began to sting and small droplets of red formed. The smell of the blood didn't overpower me, unlike that day in biology. The smell made me want to vomit, but it was tolerable. I allowed the blood to drip down my arm. In a way, it was comforting. I made another small incision, and another, and another until I was slicing up and down my arm like it was the only thing keeping me alive. Blood splattered in the sink.

All the time I had thoughts in my head. Evil, nasty thoughts.

You're worthless, you stupid bitch. He hates you. I hate you. He doesn't want you. Nobody wants you. The voices I heard only made me cut more and more. It wasn't long until the sink looked like there had been a blood bath. Each time I placed the blade on my skin it was a little bit deeper. The cuts had made themselves up to the crease of my elbow and around where the crescent-moon shaped scar was on my wrist. I had cut there, but nothing happened. I guessed as much: vampire skin couldn't be penetrated, so why should my scar be penetrable?

Stopping was the hard part. Each cut made me feel slightly better; they didn't make me happy, but rather relieved. I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Pain soothed pain; the irony made me want to laugh. Charlie's snoring stuttered and I dropped my blade. Thankfully, I didn't lose it down the sink, but I knew that my time was up. It was my queue to stop and go back to bed. I wiped the blade and washed all of the blood down the sink, leaving very scarce traces of my nightly activity. Charlie wouldn't notice.

It was my bleeding arm that I was most concerned about. I washed the blood off but what was I supposed to do about the cuts? I looked through the medicine cabinet and to my luck, there were some bandages inside. I wrapped them around my arm until it was the only thing that would reveal what I had done to myself. Not a cut in sight. I placed the blade into its little box and hid the box away in the cabinet. Nobody would ever suspect what I did. I left the bathroom and crawled back into bed.

A sudden thought crept over me; what if people asked about the bandage? I made a mental note to wear only long sleeves. Wearing a sweater over my gym clothes wouldn't be an issue. Living in Forks had it benefits; nobody would ask why I was wearing cold-weather clothing because that was the norm here. What I would do when I was visiting my mom in Florida didn't even cross my mind. Perhaps people wouldn't ask if they caught a glimpse of the bandage though. After all, I'd ended up in the emergency room more times in the past year that anyone in Forks had in their entire life. They'd probably just think that clumsy old Bella had had another accident.

The cuts began to burn underneath my bandage. I forced myself to ignore the pain; I told myself that sleep would be the answer. I dreaded sleep, though. The horrifying nightmare that haunted me every night prevented me from being restful. As fear of the dream filled my thoughts, I found myself in the forest once again. Like always, I was alone. Like always, I screamed.