"It's better to burn out that to fade away" I couldn't remember where I heard the quote but it seemed fitting. The quote echoed in my head as I stood in my little bathroom staring at myself in the mirror over the sink. I looked horrible. I was abnormally pale, even for me. My long brown hair needed to be washed desperately and my eyes were red and puffy from the combination of constant crying and lack of sleep. I felt weak and shaky from not eating. I looked down at the box cutter in my hand. I had found it out in the garage, next to some of Charlie's old tools. It trembling due to my shaky hands, every once in a while it would lightly tap the side of the sink.
The pain didn't seem to bother me as much as it thought it would. The blood started to flow quicker than I had anticipated however. I overacted to the amount of blood. The smell filled the small bathroom and made me nauseous. I remember falling to my knees, I tried to catch myself with my hands but I slipped on my own blood. I ended up face down on my bathroom floor. Charlie must have heard me fall because that is when the door flung open, the lock busted. Then I heard screaming.
I sat up in my bed. It was pitch black. I looked around frantically as I realized that it was just another dream. Every time I closed my eyes I seemed to re-live one of the worst moments of my life. The scene in the bathroom had been almost eight months ago. Obviously I did not succeed in my attempt to leave this life. I had gotten through one wrist before Charlie burst in. I guess you really need to get through both if you want any chance of success. In hind sight I'm glad he stopped me. A lot of bad things happened. A lot of things got screwed up but I still feel like suicide would have been a cowards way out.
After the bathroom incident I was moved to the psychiatric hospital In Port Angeles. I spent most of my time in a drug induced daze. I would have some kind of an 'outburst' (as they would call it) and they would stick a needle in my hip. I would lay in my tiny bed unable to move or think clearly for several hours. The thing I hated worst about drug induced day dreams was that they were of no one but Jake. He was my best friend. He was my savior. Jake always made it obvious that he wanted me for so much more than a best friend, but I could never find it in me to cross that line. Maybe if I had he would not have gotten involved with Sam and his disciples. Maybe if I had Jake would still be alive.
I shook my head to attempt to clear the thoughts that would only cause me pain. After the doctors at the psychiatric hospital told Charlie that they thought I was starting to get better he moved me to my current location, 'Port Angeles Group Home for the Mentally Ill. They supervise you 24 hours a day; but at least it was a normal house on a normal street. There were no signs out front telling people that you were crazy. The staff is no older than I am (21), and they can be a little condescending at times but it beats the hell out of the hospital. I have to take meds twice a day, but they are orally now rather than through a needle.
I jumped out of my bed and walked across the room to turn on the light. I was lucky that I had a room to myself. Almost every other patient here had a room mate. I threw myself back onto my bed. I reached into the top drawer of my night stand. I pulled out a small stack of photos. I flipped threw them until I found the one of me and Jake. He was tall and muscular. He had caramel colored skin and short black hair. Through out my whole life Jake had real long hair but when he got a little older he decided to cut it all off. The tears started to flow down my face. The pain in my chest was strong and hot. I threw my head into my pillow. My sobs were greatly muffed but all I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs. I missed him so much I could hardly breathe. Between my sobs I heard a door close downstairs. I decided to go downstairs and see who was working, since I couldn't sleep anyway. I tried my best to clean myself up so that it did not appear that I had been crying.
When I left my room the hallway was dark. I started walking down the stairs. I could hear the faint sounds of the television in the living room. I opened the door to the living room and there was a very good looking man sitting on the couch. He had red brown hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. His skin was even paler than mine(which was an accomplishment) he had beautiful golden eyes and very full lips. I stood in the door way speechless for a moment.
"Hello, I'm Edward" He said as he stood up from the couch and extended his hand towards me.
"Um, I'm Bella" I ignored his outstretched hand.
"Hi, Bella. I just started; I'm going to be working the overnight shift here five days a week." He was speaking slowly like many others do to people like me. They feel the need to dumb down everything they say. They assume mentally ill means retarded.
"Just because I have some issue does not mean I'm retarded, you can speak to me like a normal person." I shot back. I was sick of being spoken to like I was a child.
"I apologize" He paused attempting to collect himself "Well, Bella what are you doing up at four in the morning?" He asked, he actually appeared concerned rather than annoyed like most of the staff.
"I always have trouble sleeping" I paused attempting to determine how much he was worthy of hearing. "I always seem to dream about things that I don't want to see" I said simply.
"I see, I'm very sorry. Is it something that you would feel comfortable talking to me about?" They always say something like that. It's like they think if you talk about it 'Poof' all of your problems go away.
"No, Thank you" I smiled.
"I would love for you to sit and chat with me all night but I think you would regret not trying to get some more sleep" He smiled. When he smiled I stopped breathing. I haven't been attracted to anyone in a long time. It wasn't just that I was attracted to his looks, there was just something about him.
"What brings you here? How did you end up working here?" I ignored his request for me to leave. Not only did I not want to sleep but I also wanted to talk to him more.
"Well, I have degree in psychology and this is my first job out of college"
"I see, where are you from?" I said walking around him and sitting myself on the couch.
"Originally Forks, I have been in Seattle for a while to go to school." He paused. "Where are you from?"
"Phoenix, but I moved to Forks about two years ago."
"What brought you out to Forks?" He smiled.
"I moved in with my dad" I paused "My mom got remarried and I decided to go spend time with my dad"
"I see" he paused, by this time he was sitting next to me on the couch. "How long have you been here?"
"About five months"
"Do you mind if I ask how you got here?" He asked. He appeared to be worried that he had crossed a line.
"I think that may be a story for another night." I smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow Edward.
"Yes, you will" He smiled. I left the living room and went back up stairs to my room. For the first time in a long time I wasn't afraid to go to sleep. For the first time in a long time I was smiling when I crawled in my bed.