Hey, you guys. Many of you guys know me as the author of BEEP. Well, now, I have started a new story. This one has a more serious edge. It's about cutting, something that more than a few boys and girls go through. I hope you will read it and learn from many people's mistakes.

Stephenie owns everything.

It feels so good. When I am down, or can't control myself. When I am happy and can't control myself. When I am bored and can't control myself. When I can't control myself, it is always there to give me what I want.

What I want this time is to feel happy. Edward was away, so of course I didn't feel happy. I'm never truly happy unless he is with me. He doesn't know; there is no way he could. Ever since he got back, I started poring alcohol on them. This way he can't smell the blood, just the bitter smell of the alcohol. He has been confused once or twice, asked me if I have been drinking. He hasn't figured it out yet. He doesn't know that I am a cutter.

He can't figure it out yet. It will hurt him so bad. I am so afraid for him to find out. Almost as afraid of the thought that he will never find out. That he will never know the most important part of me. The thing I loved second to him. The high. The feeling being in control.

Let me start at the beginning

It was just like any other day. Any other day without Edward. He had been gone for quite a while. Two months, four days. I couldn't help but count. It hurt to much not to. It hurt too much too, but like I said, I couldn't help it. Everything I do hurt. There was not any escape.

Yet.

I knew one thing for sure, though; I could not keep living like this. It would end up crushing me. It was already crushing me. My heart felt crushed. My lungs felt crushed. My brain felt crushed. My soul felt crushed. Maybe I was already crushed.

I needed the pain to stop. It was becoming overwhelming. They say I was supposed to get over it. Each day it is supposed to get easier. I should be able to think his name. I should be able to date by now! If I was normal I would be up on my feet, talking on the phone to Angela or Jessica. But I haven't talked to either of them in two months and four days. I didn't know if they even liked me. And to tell the truth, I couldn't care less. Really, I can't. I don't care anymore. Not about anything.

People say that I am depressed, numb. They whisper it behind my back. I am, when they see me. When I am in front of there faces they see an expressionless face. When I talk, I use an expressionless voice. I am just expressionless. That is only to public though, to family and friends. When I am alone, just me and my thoughts, that is when I am the opposite of expressionless. I am pure pain. I cry, I scream into my pillow. I just can't take it. I need him. I need Edward. He is not here and I have pain in his place.

I would do anything to get rid of all this pain. I would take off my right leg. I can't handle this. I am only human. That last thought made me cry harder. I am human. That means that I am not enough. I can't be enough. That's what hurts, that I wasn't enough for him.

My pillow, by now, has dark purple splotches on it. It is wet from tears. For a second I wondered what Edward would say if he saw me like this. Would he take me into his arms, like he used to? I looked over to my window, to make sure. He wasn't there. I didn't expect him to be. I curled to my side and kept on looking at the window. My soul hurt. I can't explain the feeling. There are no words for it. Horrible didn't even begin to cover it. All I knew is that it needed an escape. I needed to get out of this bed and be able to survive on my own. I needed to not need him. If that was possible.

That's the thing, there had to be an escape, anything to help. I needed to stop this pain before it killed me. What if I…what if I could turn this pain into something else? Any kind of pain. Physical pain. That idea seemed amazing. More amazing than words can say. And then my escape came. I realized what I could do. I could hurt myself, and then my mind would be better, I wouldn't be afraid of it.

I knew what I would do, same thing that most other kids do when they are like me. Cut. I had heard about it in Phoenix. Everyone has. I have seen kids do it. In ninth grade, in History, I looked at my partner, and she was running her thumb nail across her wrist. I didn't think anything of it, later; she was a gothic/emo type. They do these kinds of things. Right? It is what they are known for.

I hesitated for a second. Not because of the consequences, but because I was thinking of what he would say. I knew, every part of me knew, that he would say no. He would say that I broke my promise. But, he broke his too. From the second he said his promise, he broke it. He would always be in my life, because he was in my heart. For now and always. I could break promises too.

Without thinking, I ran to the bathroom. Thank god Charlie had the TV up all the way or he would come and investigate. I went right into the medicine cabinet above the sink, and grabbed a knew razor. I closed the door behind me just in case.

I sat down on the floor and curled my legs up to my chest. It was now or never. The cover was still on the razor, so I hooked it onto the edge of sink and pulled down. The good part, the part I wanted, came off with a snap and broke into little pieces. I saw one of the razors shine in the light. I grabbed it and pulled up the sleeve of my pajamas.

I held it right above my wrist and hesitated again. I hesitated because I got a glimpse of the future, and I had no idea what was in it. I had no idea how this could hurt or help my life. Then I found out that I didn't care. I didn't care about anything.

I put the razor on my skin and took a deep breathe. My insides were quivering. I felt better though. I felt good, excited. I let out my breathe and it quivered as it came out. Almost as if I was cold. I suddenly didn't care what Edward would say. He wasn't here to say it. I have already accepted it, even if I didn't like it.

I pushed the razor into my wrist and it was like cutting was meant for me. I knew I had found my out. The bright blood start to come out and I put my arm over the linoleum, so I didn't bleed on rug. The blood was dripping on the floor, but it wasn't much, maybe a few drops.

It only took a few seconds for the tears to stop, which is kind of ironic, because I was trying to stop them all night, and my breathing became even. I just sat on the floor and watched.

I liked what I saw, too. It was kind of beautiful in a way. It was a cover for my pain. It made me…not happy, but the closet I have been in a long while. It made me want to do it every night, every minute of every night.

I sat on the floor for a few seconds and sulked in my almost happiness. I knew I should get up though, in case Charlie had to use the bathroom, or something. I grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned up the blood. Okay, so now I got dizzy because of the blood. I quickly flushed it.

I put on the sink and washed my face, trying to cool it down a little. When I looked up, I found myself in the mirror. I couldn't look away because I looked different. There was something in my eyes, happiness maybe. Or fear. I don't know what it was and I didn't know if I would like it. Time would tell.

Just like time heals all wounds. Even the ones on my arm. And I f I was lucky, time would heal the wound on my heart.

With my pajama shirt's sleeve still up, I walked to the top of the staircase. I could hear Charlie's game still going on. As far as he would know, I was in my room, doing homework or reading a book.

I walked back to my room and lay down onto my bed. After a few minutes, my eyes began to droop and after another couple of minutes I was asleep. My last thought before I was asleep was that cutting was no where as good as Edward. It never would be. It was just a substitute. Second best. It will always be second best.

That was 5 months ago.

Now, my arm is mostly scars, not that much skin left. Edward is as clueless as always. I feel kind of guilty for not stopping when he came back. I had my first best back, but I was being selfish and I wanted both.

Well, it is a little more than that, I was addicted to cutting. I was addicting to being in control. Cutting is an addiction, and I was addicted. I was far from help, which much I knew. I couldn't stop and I needed help, from my help. I was stuck and I needed someone to at least know.

No one has found out. When Alice came back first, she didn't even start to think about the possibility, like I was too depressed to cut or something. And I haven't been around any of the other Cullen's much since we got back from Italy on account of me being grounded.

And then there was Jacob, he knew something was on my mind sometimes, he knew that there was something I had never told him, and he was determined to find out. He asked a few times, what I was hiding, I always said nothing. I don't know why I just didn't tell him. I knew above anything that I could trust him. Maybe even more than I can trust Edward. It just felt like he wouldn't understand.

It feels like no one would understand if I told them. No one has had to go through what I have, except for Edward. I know if I told him, he would take care of me. But I don't want to get taken care of. I don't want people to start checking my wrists. I will keep it a secret for a little while longer.

I do have a problem though; I have my change coming up. I don't know when, but if Edward were to first know that I cut when he is biting my wrist, then he would stop. No questions asked. He would want me to get help before he changed me.

That is the problem that has been on my mind for a little while. I should tell Edward, for plenty of reasons. The change is just one of them. The main one was that I love him and he deserves to know this about me. He wants to marry me, but he doesn't know what he wants to marry.

I won't tell him tonight. I probably won't ever tell him, even though I know I should. I was being selfish, again.

I walked into my bedroom, after cutting and pouring rubbing alcohol on my arm. I got the idea for rubbing alcohol on my disastrous eighteenth birthday, when Carlisle had to wipe down all the surfaces with my blood on it with it. It seemed kind of obvious and I have been doing it since day one since he came back.

I walked over to Edward who was lying on my bed, pretending to be asleep. I smiled and ran my hands through his hair. "Does Edward want to go to sleep without me?"

"Nope, I want to go to sleep with you." Said Edward, and he grabbed me around the waist, causing be to jump in surprise. He laughed and laid me down next to him. "I wish we could be like this forever." He kissed the top of my head, and played with my hair. "Just you and me."

"No Charlie," I mumbled into his chest.

We lay like that for a few minutes, each to our own thoughts. Then I feel him move his arm to the zipper of my sweatshirt I have the "habit" of sleeping in. "You always wear this sweatshirt to bed, not mater how hot it is out. Why?"

I was prepared for this, having been thinking about this moment for a few weeks. "Because you are here, silly. Do you want me to freeze?" I gave him a little pout, for fun. He touched my bottom lip lightly and then kissed me.

Ever since he returned, kissing him has been great. It was the only times when I didn't have to worry about him finding out. When I kissed him, I didn't worry about anything, like if anyone was noticing I was buying too many razors or how summer, and the good weather that was coming with it, was coming way to fast. Instead, I thought about him, only him. How he would sometimes run his tongue over my lips, or would hold me too close. I just never want it to end.

He pulled away and said "There, I hope that warmed you up okay."

I laughed and reached up so I could touch my nose to his. "I'm okay, Edward, really." I kissed him again, but this was no where as long as the previous kiss, just a second, this time.

"You smell funny again." He said and sat me back down. "Are you sure you are okay? You don't have a drinking problem that I don't know anything about, do you? Your not hiding anything from me are you?" he joked.

"Not anything that you don't know about." I retorted and tried to kiss him again, but he held me in place, and got a serious look in his face.

"I just don't know, Bella, you seem to be acting a little funny lately. As if you are hiding something. As if you are actually not okay. If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I understand, but you can talk to me about anything. I know I haven't been the most supportive person about your and Jacob's friendship, and I am sorry about that, but if that's it, you can tell me, you know."

He thought I was sad over Jacob, well, of course I was. He was the reason for more than one of the cuts on my arm, but I…I don't know. As I said before, Edward deserves to know and I have to tell him sometime. Could I tell him now? Would he be mad at me?

He seemed to know that something was up. Could I tell him all that was up? I saw the answer in his eyes. Yes, I could. He wouldn't be judgmental or angry at me. I knew without a doubt he would find out some way of finding out.

I guess I could just say that he asked for it.

"Edward…it's not Jacob, it's me." I looked down at my arms and spoke in a whisper.

Edward pulled my chin up to make me look up at him. "Bella, I don't understand, what have you done?"

I looked him in the eye and decided it would be better if I just told him straight out. "Edward, I cut myself every night."

Okay, I am ending my chapter on a cliffhanger. If you have anything you would like to see in future chapters, don't be afraid to tell me. And, as always, thank you for reading, and review.