I own nothing, it's all Stephenie Meyer.

AN: this is my first real fanfic and i would appreciate any tips. this is angst-ridden, but i love the characters and hope i'll do them justice. i was wondering what would happen if bella had tried to cross the point of no return, and i decided that charlie would feel unable to care for her and might send her to a place that would be able to protect her from herself. so, here it is, mind you, it does get happier.


Chapter One

I laid on the cold floor and stared up at the metal door, a high, impassable barrier between me and the real world, the sane world. Feeling a hard, grinding pain in my hand, I lifted it to see what was the matter and I realized I had been clenching my fist so hard that my fingernails cut into my skin deep enough to draw blood. My mind shied from the memories of another time I had smelled blood, biology…and him… No! If I thought of him again I don't know how my mind would react; last time it happened I was confined to a small, claustrophobic room after I split open my head on the bed, pounding, pounding…

This was a normal life for me now, at the asylum, somewhere I had never even thought of, much less pictured myself in. But after the attempted suicide, Charlie had me consigned. He sometimes visited me, but it made him too sad to see me this way, alone, and frightened of my own mind. Ever since… he left, it kept going back to the only things I had, the memories. He tried to take even those as well, for not a glimpse of his picture remained to help me through this darkness.

Nighttime was the worst, when the absence of his granite body was painfully conspicuous. I screamed and screamed at the dreams, but there was no one there to comfort me and wake me up. He was really, truly gone.

Sometimes when I was capable of thought I wondered if he ever really loved me, or if it was just the strange attraction of my warmth. I used to love him and hoped that he would return, but after all I had gone through I was no longer capable of feeling anything but anguish. If I dared to hope, the torture of his betrayal was even stronger.

There wasn't really any point in staying alive here; there was no warmth or love, just cold metal walls and a window too high to see out of. If only… if only I had the means for freedom, a rope, a piece of glass, anything. My life was an empty void with no hope of an escape besides death.

This idea was becoming more and more welcome as the days wore on with exactly the same routine, sedatives in the morning, bland tasteless meals, and a day spent in my room, my prison.

However there was one problem: how? How should I go about my awful plan? Hanging myself was out; when I first came here they took away anything that could be used for that purpose. So was bleeding to death; even if I could fashion some sort of sharp edge I was so sickened by the thought of blood that I would probably pass out before I could do the deed.

These were the thoughts that kept running through my brain, even as I was escorted to the cafeteria by a guard. Sitting there, plastic spork in hand, a wave of utter depression washed over me, and I let it drag me under.


AN: so there you have it, the first chapter. i would love input, and i'll try to update as soon as possible.