A/N: New Moon AU Land. Where Bella didn't jump, Alice never returned and Bella gave Jacob his chance and what occurred as a result.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer, the creator of Twilight.

I lay on the floor, not really breathing, not feeling.

I was alone.

Alone.

Just as I always knew I would be once Edward had left me.

That had nearly killed me.

But this...

This was so much worse.

I thought my soul had died when Edward told me he didn't want me.

I was wrong.

Now it was dead.

It seemed almost incomprehensible to me that my heart should still beat, that I should still be able to see the lights glide gracefully across my dark ceiling each time a car passed. I shouldn't be able to think about how much I would be better off dead, to hear Charlie's urgent hushed tones reverberating up at me through the floor I had not moved from since I had run back here, to my home, my sanctuary.

The memories laughed at me, shrieking like banshees in the haunting darkness, taunting me with what will never be.

The floor was a safe haven.

We had never been here on the floor. Granted, we had walked on it plenty of times, but we did not lay here. We did not-wince-kiss...here.

I squeezed my eyes closed as the pain stabbed into my chest, forcing the hole that had been long healed over to open, as it twisted clockwise to try to kill me.

I curled into a ball, my fingernails digging into the hard wood, praying for it to anchor me, to let me hold on, to not be lost to the pain once more.

During my pleadings with my wooden life raft, my phone began to vibrate loudly against it. I let my eyes open slowly and watched the offending device, a few feet away, tap dancing, begging for my attention.

This had to be the twenty-sixth time it had done that. And each time, I tried to pretend that it didn't exist. That this hadn't really happened. That it was all some horrific dream.

Once again, the phone realized I would not give in and it stopped its little display. And sure enough, the house phone rang, calling to me as its little brother had done moments earlier.

Charlie's gruff voice echoed harshly.

"No. No, I am not putting her on the phone! You listen to me, boy-"

I covered my ears and shut my eyes, curling into myself tighter. I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to hear his name. I didn't want to let this in, to let what was happening actually manifest itself into reality.

This was a dream, after all. A sick, twisted, horrifying dream. Just like the nightmares I used to have. Just like the ones I used to wake up screaming from. Just like I would any minute now.

But the harder I shut my eyes, the more I begged myself to wake, it didn't happen.

No.

This was reality.

I was alone.

So very alone.

Everyone had left me.

The only person still standing was Charlie.

And I was hurting him, frightening him, more than loving him in return.

He wasn't enough.

Just like me.

I wasn't enough.

And I never would be.

Never.

I could hear Charlie's voice raise a few octaves in anger and I capitulated, sticking both middle fingers into my ears like a child.

If I was alive, had some semblance of a soul left, I might even hum something so I could drown out the muffled din rising from the kitchen.

But I was not.

I was dead.

Dead.

Gone.

And then I heard a snippet of it sneak past my ambidextrous ear plugs.

"-No, you will not come here! NO! You do and I will arrest you for trespassing on the spot! You hear me?!-I don't care what you have to say to her! I-Hello?-Hello!"

I winced and jerked a little as I heard Charlie slam the phone down and utter a curse.

I felt what little air I had left escape me. No. He was coming here. No. He was strong. Too strong. He'd make it past Charlie.

No, that's not true. He wouldn't even bother with Charlie. He'd sneak in my window. My window that I had closed and locked before clinging to my dark maple angel. He'd break the glass.

No. No. No.

I have to get out of here.

I can't see him.

He's already on his way.

I don't have much time.

I numbly scramble to my feet, run to my door and fling it open with both hands in a death grip and run to the stairs. Somehow I manage to run down them without tripping or falling once. A miracle I don't have time to marvel at. A miracle I'd rather not have had. The wrong miracle I was praying for.

"Bella! Bella, where are you going? Bella, come back here!"

I fling the front door open in much the same fashion as I did upstairs, but this time faster, grabbing the first set of keys I feel as I whip past. Charlie's right behind me, reaching for my arm but I'm too fast for him. I run at break neck speed, glancing at the keys in my hand, to the matching car.

I jump into the police cruiser and turn over the ignition quickly, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway speedily, never once looking towards Charlie who's screaming my name and running after me.

I shift the car into drive and patch out into the road, speeding down the street haphazardly in my rush to get out of there.

I squeal the tires a few more times until I'm on the main road, not caring, not hearing the honks of the other drivers I pass, the angry yells as I cut them off. No. I just need to get out of here. Get away from Forks, from him.

I don't buckle my seat belt, I don't turn off the dispatch radio until I hear the pathetic pleas of my father's deputy, asking me to pull over and tell me where he is.

I don't even really see where I'm driving towards until it hits me.

Edward had once told me that cars stymied their scents if a tracker was ever following them. Not completely but it was enough to throw them off course for a while. I'm not one of them and my scent is very potent to my pursuer. But it might just work.

I turn onto the highway at the last second and begin the long trek up to Port Angeles. If anyone were to follow my trail they might lose it after a couple of miles. Not to mention the pouring rain would be a major hindrance to the hunt for me. But then again, this isn't some natural predator in the wild I'm dealing with. Damn supernatural beings and their supernatural abilities. I should have just moved with Renee when I had the chance. Then maybe I wouldn't feel this dead and empty inside, this hollow.

A few miles down the highway, I turn off onto the exit, making a U-turn to go back to Forks, thanking whoever is listening for no other police cars passing me.

I don't even know where I'm going.

I don't even know why I just did what I did. It's not like he would follow me, that he would be that concerned about me. He might have wanted to talk to me, apologize to me, so he could ease his own conscience, so he could sleep easier at night, but he wouldn't follow me all the way through Forks and up to Port Angeles. He just wouldn't.

I wasn't enough.

And I never would be.

I take a back road that Edward has shown me in the past and then before I know it, I'm at the driveway.

I turn in and make my way up the long winding drive until I reach my destination.

The glass house looks sinisterly empty and dark, bathed in the moonlight.

I turn the car off and get out, the pain still in my chest but not for the same reason as before, making my way to the stairs.

The property is eerily quiet, except for the downpour of rain soaking me through and through. I'm shivering but I don't feel cold. Just empty.

I open the front door and let it swing open.

I hear a loud crack of thunder in the distance, making jump just a little, and then I walk inside.

I drag my muddy, sodden feet across Esme's beautiful white carpet and glance all around me.

I knew they wouldn't be here.

They haven't been since they left.

But I needed a place for me to feel safe. To feel...at home. A place where he wouldn't dare to try and find me.

I scan around the dark house, remembering...

I feel so dead inside. I almost wish Victoria and Laurent hadn't been done away with so quickly.

Maybe another of their kind has taken refuge in the Cullens' old stomping grounds? Maybe?

But no sounds and no strong urges for self-preservation make their presence known.

I hear another loud crack of thunder, this time closer.

This time it doesn't make me jump. Not this time.

Instead, I make my way to the stairs, about to travel up to the room where I always felt loved and where I had always felt safe.

I would either find an empty room or a squatter of the supernatural kind. Either one worked for me.

But before I could take a step, I heard a piercing howl in the distance.

I gasp and turn back to the open door worriedly.

They-they-he couldn't have found me already.

No, he couldn't have found me.

No.

Was there no safe place for me to hide, for me to just be?

I struggle for breath as my arm encircles my midsection.

Maybe they haven't. Maybe they're just giving up. Maybe they're telling him to let me go and good riddance. After all, it's not like I was worth mounting a full-scale search effort for.

Not now.

But, as if fate is determined to make sure I end, whether by its hand or my own, the howls are closer now.

I begin to shake more violently and my arm grasps me tighter. The pain is excruciating.

No.

I turn to force myself up the stairs, to go into Edward's room, to meet my safe haven willingly, whatever form it may come in.

The door slams shut behind me with such force, I gasp, stumble but manage to grab the railing in time, and turn around.

Nothing.

No one.

Maybe it was the wind.

I sneak a glance outside the windows but I don't see any of the vegetation swaying. They are absolutely still.

I take a deep breath, gasping in fright and look around the room.

Nothing.

No one.

I'm about to turn around and race up the stairs to my chosen place of refuge when I feel an ice cold hand on my shoulder.

I turn quickly, shrieking in horror when I see the face of who that hand belongs to standing right in front of me, staring.

It wasn't the end.

How ironic.

How poetic.

Let it end where it all began.

Looks like I'm getting my other wish, after all.