A/N: Something that I cannot stress enough is that this story was not orginally meant to be fanfic. I've never even attempted to write fanfic before (although I do love it) It's currently in progress and posted on fictionpress(dot)com as an original piece. The only reason I turned it into a fic was the encouragement of a friend of mine and pure boredom. The orginal characters were

Bella – Kristen
Edward – Chase
Alice – Natalie
Emmett – Aaron
Rosalie – Mandy
Jacob – Sam

The only reason I mention this is because you may run across a few errors concerning this.

All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just bored.

Waking Up

I stared blankly at my mother, her voice echoing in my mind, like a scream bouncing off cavern walls. I heard her, but it didn't make sense. What was she doing here? What was I doing here? I was supposed to be long gone, sleeping an endless sleep, not wide awake and in what was undoubtedly a hospital room. The fact that I could see anything at all caused bitter tears to well up in my eyes, and disappointment burned in my throat.

God, God, why couldn't I do anything right?

My mother must've mistaken my tears for fear, and soothingly, she stroked my forehead. "Shh, baby, it's okay. You're okay. You're okay."

"I'm awake." I croaked, bursting out into a full blown bawl. Roughly, I shoved her hand away from me. "I'm alive. God damn it, why the fuck couldn't you just let me die? I wanted to die!"

My mother recoiled from me, her expression turning horrified. "Sweetheart, you don't really mean that. Of course you don't. You're just having a rough time right now. You'll get yourself over it." She said, and even as the words left her mouth, I could see she was convincing herself they were the truth. She wasn't capable of handing anything unpleasant, my mother, and the slices I'd cut into the flesh of my forearms, and my reasons for doing so were extremely unpleasant for her. So was the undeniable truth that I wanted to be dead.

"I wanted to be dead." I repeated the words, tears still flowing down my face. "It's the only way, why can't you see that?"

"No, no, no! Stop that! Stop saying that!" She spoke firmly, a hint of hysteria in her voice. "Why do you want to be dead? You have everything you want, things other people your age only dream of. How can you be so ungrateful?"

I wiped at my tears, studied my bandaged wrists, but didn't say anything, because there wasn't anything to say. She would never, ever understand what it was like to be lost and alone, to feel a pain so deep, and so searing that there was no escape. To feel yourself slowly going crazy, losing control, to think something was happening, only to realize it happened in your mind. She didn't know what it was like to be broken and to watch the left over shards as they slipped away.

I turned away from her, hoping she would get the point and leave me alone. My whole life she'd never had any problem leaving me to my own devices, even as a small child. It worked. Within minutes she made her leave.

I lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed, bandaged appendages throbbing. Hanging on the IV pole was a bag of blood. I watched, fascinated as it slowly dripped into my arm. I must have lost a lot of blood if I'd needed a transfusion. The knowledge made me furious, What the hell gave someone else the right to decide to keep me alive, if I wanted to die? Wasn't it my life, and therefore my choice?

I peeled off the tape that held the IV secured against the back of my hand, intending to take the damn thing out. I didn't want this life, and I didn't want their blood.

"Stop it right now." Edward said, startling me. I hadn't heard him come into the room, but there he was standing just inside the door. "Doing that isn't going to help you right now. You need to pull yourself together. If you fall apart they're going to keep you. You can't have that, not if you really want to end this thing."

Immediately, my fingers stilled. "I do want to end it."

"Then stop." He replied curtly. Moving further into the room, he began to pace beside the bed. "You've got to make them think that your attempt was a mistake, prove to them that you're not a danger to yourself."

I took several breaths, pulling them deep into my lungs, trying to sooth the ragged edges of my nerves.

"Good. Good, that's a good girl." Edward cooed at me, and patted my hand affectionately before going to sit down in the visitors chair in the corner.

"I'm scared Edward." I whispered.

"Hi there!" A pretty petite blonde women said cheerfully as she bustled into the room. I disliked her immediately. "Your mom said you were awake. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak, while she checked on my IV.

"Huh. I could have sworn we taped that." She said, referring to the IV intake site on my hand. She pulled out a roll of surgical tape from her pocket and tore off a small section. "Are you sure you don't want something for pain? Your doctor authorized Percocet for when you woke up. The wounds should actually be pretty sore."

"It hurts a little, I guess." I responded with a shrug. They hurt like a bitch, but I really just wanted her to go away. Edward and I had so much to talk about, and we couldn't talk about anything if the damn nurse was in the room.

"Okay, I'll get you something for it as soon as I get your vitals." She smiled at me brightly, as if it made her day to know that I was in pain, and that she could do something about it. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No." I said shortly, impatiently waiting for her to finish with my blood pressure and to take my temp.

"Alrighty then hun. I can't force you to talk." She peeled the blood pressure cuff apart, and put it away. "But one of the counselor's will be in to talk to you later, to decide whether you need to be admitted to the psych unit or if you can go home."

"I don't need the psych unit. I'm not crazy."

"No one said you were crazy hun. Everyone needs a little help sometimes. I'll be back in just a moment with your pain medication."

"Don't freak out. They have to keep you for a couple days after you attempt suicide. It's standard." Edward was standing next to my bed again.

"I don't want to stay."

"I know you don't, doll, but they're not going to just let you go home yet. Don't worry, I'll come see you as often as they let me." Edward said, comforting me, then began to sing, something he always did whenever I was upset.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of his voice.