WARNING. THIS STORY CONTAINS PROGRESSINGLY INTENSE SUICIDE AND SELF HARM THEMES. THEY ARE RELATIVLY MILD IN THIS CHAPTER BUT WILL CONTINUE TO GET MORE GRAPHIC. LET US HOPE THAT EDWARD CAN HELP BELLA BEFORE SHE DOES SOMETHING EXTREMELY DRASTIC.

Chapter 1

It's a physical urge, huger and stronger than thirst or sex. Halfway back on the left side of my head there is a spot that yearns, that longs, that pleads for the jolt of a bullet. I want that rage, that fire, that final empty rip. I want to be let out of this dark cavern, to open myself up to the ease of not-living. I am tired of sorrow and struggle and worry. ... I want to turn out the last light. –Jean Hegland, Into the Forest

Isabella Marie Swan – January 1st, 2010

"THIS IS YOUR ENTIRE FAULT, CHARLIE! IF YOU HAD BEEN AROUND MORE WHEN SHE WAS GROWING UP, MAYBE SHE WOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS!!!!!," Renee was hissing.

"HOW COULD I! YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME WHEN SHE'S NOT A MONTH OLD AND THEN GIVE ME JUST A MONTH EVERY YEAR WITH HER!! HELL, I HAVEN'T SEEN HER FOR ANY EXTENED PERIOD OF TIME IN YEARS!! AND THEN YOU GO AND MARRY THIS BALL PLAYER!! TELL ME YOU HAVEN'T BEEN SPENDING ALL OF YOUR TIME WITH HIM!! IF SHE HAD BEEN LIVING WITH ME SHE WOULD HAVE NEVER EVEN THOUGHT OF DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!" I could just see Charlie's face turn red.

"Don't you dare blame this on me and Phil!!" Renee was whispering now, after a nurse had walked by the room.

"Well whose fault is it them? You sure as hell haven't been telling me anything!!! The fucking doctor was the one who even told me she was in the hospital when he needed more of my medical history!! You can be sure that that will be noted at the hearing." Who knew passive Charlie Swan could sound so venomous?

"HEARING?! What hearing?" Renee was now pacing short laps in the small alcove.

"The hearing at which I will be applying for full custody of Bella; it has become painfully clear that you are unable to care for her properly. I MEAN HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT HER WRISTS!!? SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE'S BEEN STICKING HER HANDS IN BROKEN GLASS! AND HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO NOTICE THAT YOUR DAUGHTER HAS LOST AT LEAST FIFTY POUNDS SINCE THE LAST TIME I SAW HER!! IF SHE WASN'T STRAPPED TO THE BED SHE'D FLY AWAY IF THEY OPENED A WINDOW!!" They were back to shouting now.

"YOU CANNOT TAKE MY DAUGHTER AWAY FROM ME! NO JUDGE IS GOING TO HAND CUSTODY OVER TO AN ABSENT FATHER OF SIXTEEN YEARS." Renee rebutted.

"HAH!! WHAT JUDGE IS GOING TO LET A MOTHER WHO LETS HER DAUGHTER TRY TO COMMIT SUICIDE KEEP HER DAUGHTER?" this was followed by another nurse walking by, which lowered their volume once again.

"As soon as Bella is discharged she is coming back to Forks with me. I already called a lawyer and got an early court date. My lawyer will be in contact with your lawyer to serve you the papers. You have a week to prepare." Charlie walked from the room with this. Renee stayed a few moments more before a nurse came in and told her that visiting hours were over.

The whole time my parents had been arguing outside my room I have been staring at the white, textured ceiling; my arms and legs strapped to the bed and tubes strapped to each of my arms. The inane beeping of the heart monitor was taunting me, bragging that I had not prevailed in silencing it.

Three days ago I had tried to kill myself.

I had wanted to end my life for months and had finally scrounged up the courage to do it. My life is full of reasons to die and very few reasons to live that are eclipsed by those to die. Over the past two years I have gone from a straight-A student to a potential drop out, from a healthy weight for my height to dangerously thin, from a moderately happy teenager to a suicidal one. You may think "why does she want to kill herself? Is she abused? Did someone die? Did something terrible happen to her?" The answer to all of these questions is yes….and no.

I know why I want to die. But I will not tell you. The doctors begged me to tell them. I didn't.

I am not abused. Physically or mentally. But, perhaps I am emotionally, unknowingly abused by those around me. And sometimes, knowingly abused by those who intend to cause me pain.

Did someone die? Yes…me…multiple times.

Did something terrible happen to her? If you mean my life, then yes. If you mean was I raped or tortured? No.

Three days ago my mother and her new husband left for a week to go to Jacksonville, Florida on a try-out for Phil's minor-league baseball career.

Flashback

The empty feeling in my chest finalized my decision. I was completely numb as I lay in the bathtub. I reached for a new razor from under the sink and rolled up my sleeve to reveal a spider web of fresh and older wounds. I located the thick blue rein on my wrist and sliced, not feeling the pain. I repeated this with the other wrist. I felt nothing as the life began to drain away from me. I was happy as I thought about my miserable life ending.

I began to feel weak and my thoughts began to cloud. It was becoming harder to breathe and I embraced the black spots that started to envelope me.

End Flashback

Unfortunately, Renee had forgotten her cell phone and had walked in just in time to call 911. It was also very unfortunate that I cut just a mite too shallow. So now, here I am, in West Valley Hospital, strapped to a bed, on suicide watch (like I could get away with it strapped to a bed), wrists wrapped in four inches of gauze and hooked up to a dozen different machines. And then I have like three different psychiatrists breathing down my neck every other hour. My parents are bitching like they're the ones in my situation.

If I wanted to die before this, I want to even more now.

Thankfully, the doctors and my parents can only keep me in the hospital for another week due to the fact that so long as I say it was an accident and the only other witness was Renee, they can't legally prove I was trying to commit suicide. I love child advocate lawyers.

I suppose I can wait another week to die. It won't matter once I'm dead.

For now I will wait patiently for that final, sweet release from this hell.

Charlie Swan

I don't believe that I have been so neglectful of my daughter. I can't believe that I am sitting in a cheap hotel room after visiting my daughter in the hospitals suicide watch wing. My head is in my hands and I'm making a solemn vow. I get up and reach into the drawer of the nightstand and pick up the Holy Bible that sits there. I lay my right hand on the cover and bow my head in silent prayer that God would help me to help my daughter.

"I, Charles Arthur Swan, swear that I will take my daughter from this place and do everything in my power to help her" I set the Bible down and lay back in the bed.

I should have fought harder for custody of Bella when Renee and I were getting divorced. Renee had always been a flighty, irresponsible person who could never be expected to care for Bella properly. From my summer visits with Bella it always seemed that she was raising Renee instead of the other way around.

I haven't been there, but all of that is going to change. After Bella had been successfully revived and was out of the woods I hired a lawyer who said that my chase was a sure thing since I wanted custody of Bella. He said we just had to give Renee a week to work up a rebuttal and then a judge would decide.

Bella Swan 1 week later

I was getting out of here today. For the past week at least a dozen therapists and psychiatrists have tried to get me to 'open up'. Renee comes and sits with me every day for about an hour, talking about unimportant things until I tell her to leave. Charlie comes and sits with me too, when Renee's not here, and just sits. The first day he hung his head and apologized to me. I told him that it wasn't his fault, that I wanted it. I don't make him leave because after that first day he got that I didn't want to talk and so he just sits by my side for hours at a time and watches TV. Today he came in with a confident aura around him.

"Hey Bells. Umm, you haven't been to Forks in long time have you?" He knew the answer to that question. He must have won at the hearing and is now trying to get me to want to go. It's good for him that I do want to go to Forks. I can elude Charlie better than I can Renee and Phil.

"You don't have to ask Charlie. I can tell by your asking that that you now have custody of me and are just trying to get me to want to go. I do. We'll leave as soon as I'm discharged." With that he relaxed and left to sign the papers.

Renee came in a few minutes later.

"So, you want to go with Charlie do you? Fine, go to Forks. You'll be miserable up there. But then again, you seem to enjoy misery now don't you…..I love you Bella." She left.

The doctor came in and untied my restraints and took out the IVs. A nurse came in with my clothes. My body was stiff and sore from being strapped to the bed and I stumbled several times while trying to dress myself. As I wash brushing my tangled hair I saw that a new patient was being set up in the room across the hall. I crept to the door of my room and watched as a nurse punched in the security code on the medication cart; 778349. The nurse disappeared behind the curtain in the room. A smile crept across my face.

I ran and ducked behind the cart, making sure that no one could see me as I stealthily typed in the security code and open the first drawer. How lucky I had taken extended health and first aid classes. All I needed was 120 mg of morphine and I could be rid of this hellish life. The first drawer was filled with simple anti-inflammatory medication and injection supplies. I grabbed a few syringes and a rubber sash. I quickly searched in the second drawer until I found the vials of morphine. I could hear the nurse in the room finishing up so I grabbed as many as I could in my free hand and ran back to my room and into the connecting bathroom. I tied the sash around my upper arm and filled the first syringe with morphine.

I immediately felt the hollow expanse of my chest quiver with anticipation. This life has left me empty and the only way I can truly be alive is to die. I felt numb now and sluggish so I quickly filled the next syringe and injected it into my thick blue vein that pushed against my pale skin. I repeated this with three more vials while my hands were still stable. Twenty milligrams per vial times five vials equals one hundred milligrams…just one last vial….the tips of my fingers were blue….it was getting harder to breathe…my vision was blurring and the room was spinning around me….my hands started to shake and I knew that I was about to have a seizure….no…..no….I have to get that last vial in….my hands shake and I drop the vial….it breaks on the tile floor….NO….NO….I cry out in anguish as my world starts to shake and tremble. An uncomforting blackness collapses around me………………………………………

3rd person.

The nurse leaving the room across from Bella's hears her anguished cry and runs into her bathroom to see Bella begin to seize. The nurse calls a code. The doctors see the morphine vials and give her activated charcoal to counteract the morphine. Luckily after an hour Bella was awake and discharged after she called a lawyer who threatened to sue the hospital for giving a minor access to lethal narcotics, especially when said minor was in a fragile mental state. Bella was out of there and packing her things to go in four hours.

Bella Swan – home of Renee + Phil Dwyer + Bella

DAMN, SHIT, FUCK!!! I was mentally screaming. I was ONE FUCKING VIAL AWAY!!! Charlie was seething, waiting to yell at me. He drove me to my 'old' house to pack everything I wanted to take to Forks. It didn't take long considering my wardrobe is made for the sweltering weather of Arizona; but I did manage to scrounge up a bunch of jeans and long pants along with a decent number of long sleeved shirts plus my old heavy winter coat that remarkably still fit. Charlie was standing in the doorway, watching my every move. Beside my clothes I packed a carry on with my laptop, iPod, and the few books I could stand to read until I could try again. Renee wasn't there, having already said goodbye to me. Charlie put my luggage in the trunk of the rental car and drove us to the airport in a thick silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

We arrived at the airport, checked our luggage, went through security, boarded the plane, buckled our seatbelts and began our journey into the cold, wet, green hell that is Forks, Washington. (Of course Phoenix, Arizona is a hot, dry, red/orange hell)

About a half hour into the flight Charlie decided to break to silence.

"Bella, once we get to Forks I am taking you to see Dr. Cullen." He seemed to have a sudden resolve for action. I scoffed at him.

"Doctor Cullen? As in a psychiatrist? Really Charlie, really? Did you not see the droves of those quacks I drove to tears back at the hospital? What makes you think this doctor is going to make a difference?" Even though the words were slightly angry in context I said them in my customary bland, emotionless voice.

"Dr. Cullen just happens to be possibly the best doctor in the whole field. His research has been internationally acclaimed and he owes me a favor. Now, you'll go to see him and you'll be civil." Charlie gave me a serious look. I was almost hurt. Charlie had never given me a direct order, and had certainly never scolded me. I shut up and looked out the window, not seeing what was outside it, for the rest of the flight.

Charlie could make me go to see Dr. Cullen. Charlie could make me go to Forks, though I 'chose' to. Charlie can lock me in jail or lock me in an asylum. But Charlie cannot make me feel anymore. Nothing and nobody can.

About a year ago I had discovered that this life is worthless and meaningless. Since the dawn of time people have grown up, learned the basic life lessons, gotten married, and have had children who repeat the process. Then, as civilization progressed, children were born, they grew up in either mediocre, abusive, or privileged homes and turned out to be rotten, spoiled, good, or, most of the time, average. Those people then in turn had children of their own and the process repeats itself. People kill people, lie to them, deceive them, and steal from them. And for what? So that the people of this world can just grow more and more corrupt until eventually the god that created this world will finally get fed up with forgiving them and smite us all? I refuse to be a part of it anymore. Even if you never get married and never have children just by living you are contributing to the economy that sustains the rest of those who are in the great growing snowball of decrepit being. I just don't want to be another snowflake stuck in that snowball when it fills the ground.

Oh my dear God that sounded gay even in my head.

You get the point.

At some point I must have fallen asleep because Charlie had to wake me up when the plane landed in Tacoma Narrows Airport. We spent an hour going through security and retrieving our bags. Charlie didn't speak a word to me. I don't mind. Charlie led me into the extended time parking lot and I groaned when I saw that I would have to be driven around in a police cruiser. I asked Charlie why he hadn't taken a small plane from Port Angeles to Tacoma. His reply was that it was just cheaper to drive.

The vast amount of green gave me a headache and I quickly resorted to listening to Chopin and trying to sleep. The only people on this planet that I don't completely abhor are my parents and the great artists before us who have seen past the veil of false ambiguity and tried their hardest to make people see the world as it should be seen, whether it has been construed as a wonderful, dreadful, beautiful, or painful, they decided that their lives would be about more than mediocrity.

I could never do what the great artists like Chopin, Debussy, Shakespeare, Austen, Van Gogh, Da Vinci, the Bronte sisters, and the others that seem many but are few in comparison those who were hopeful and bold. Even if I dared try what the Greats have nothing I did who become famous until after I was dead. And that is exactly why all of the Greats are so great. People refused to embrace their ideas until after they were dead and could not be rebutted.

My thoughts were interrupted by Charlie closing his door loudly. I turned off my iPod and got out. My jaw hit the wet ground when I looked. Before me was an extremely nice house. It was three stories and completely modern with the walls curving in places and the layers of stories uneven (the same Cullen house from the movie.) Charlie was walking up the pathway to the door, which by the way was bordered on both sides by fountain ponds. I reluctantly followed Charlie and stood several feet behind him while we waited. I wasn't looking but I listened as we were let in.

"Chief Swan, I wasn't expecting you for another hour. Do please come in," the voice I heard was so smooth and kind. It was painful when it stopped.

"Thanks Dr. Cullen, but call me Charlie please. Isabella, come one," Charlie's voice was like sandpaper compared to silk to the other voice. I shuffled into the house.

It was even more spectacular inside than it was out. There was art work all over the walls, beautiful, haunting pieces that should be in museums. There was also expensive looking furniture. There was a staircase leading to the second floor with a large hallway visible behind a glass railing.

Charlie had continued to speak to Dr. Cullen while I looked around. I was suddenly, embarrassed, out of place and began to stare at the tips of my shoes. Charlie cleared his throat and I looked up, getting the point.

Dr. Cullen was the most gorgeous person I had ever seen in my entire life. His hair was styled in an impossibly casual, perfect way and was sunshine blond. His eyes were also the most exotic, strange, beautiful golden color. He looked like he belonged in some ancient Roman shrine instead of in the dinky town of Forks, Washington.

However, my own lack of self worth and preservation quickly banished these thoughts from my mind and I focused on the fact that this was the last person that stood between me and my goal.

"Hello Isabella, name is Carlisle Cullen. Welcome to my home."

These opinions on life are not true. Life is a beautiful and wonderful thing that should be cherished. Bella just has some issues that our favorite vampires are going to help her with.

If you are considering suicide I am BEGGING you, please talk to someone.

If you are considering suicide please call one of these numbers immediately.

1-800-SUICIDE or 1-800-273-TALK

XXxxXXxxXXxxXX

PLEASE REVIEW.