A/N: Don't own any of these characters or the book Twilight. This is my first Twilight fanfiction, I hope you all enjoy it.
Velvet Insanity
"No, please don't send me, please don't!" I beg my mother.
She looks right at me, lips pursed, her eyes shining with guilt. "I'm sorry, Bella."
I want to run away. What good would that do though? I just have to deal with this. I feel so defeated. I silently grab my luggage and follow Renée to her car. She opens the trunk for me, and I slide my one suitcase in. I'm really going to an asylum. I really am. It doesn't feel like anything's wrong with me. I know I'm sane. Everyone else around me begs to differ though. I've asked my therapist to tell me what exactly is wrong with me, but he ignores the question every time. I've tried asking my mom and Charlie, but they do the same thing, ignore me. How can they send me here without even telling me why I'm going to a mental institution?
I sigh and climb into the car. Renée is taking me to "only the best asylum" as she puts it. How can any place be better than the other? In my opinion they're all prisons. There's nothing wrong with me, she's sending me to this mental institution just so she doesn't have to take care of me anymore. I guess that's a little harsh, but that's what it feels like. I know she doesn't mean for it to be like this, but I feel like she's abandoning me. Like she doesn't care for me anymore.
I stare out the window, watching the cactuses fly by. The condensation from my breath makes it hard to see. "What state are we going to again?" My voice comes out small and tired.
"Northern California." She says it so calm. I'm going to be miles away from her! How is she okay with this? It's not exactly close to Charlie either…
What is it about my life that gave off the signal that I'm crazy? Insane? A lunatic? Those are all describing words of someone in an asylum, right? What have I done? I look down at my thighs, and know underneath my jeans are scars that were once deep gashes. But that couldn't be enough, no; cutting myself isn't enough to send me far away.
I want to try to ask her again. "Why am I going to this asylum?"
"We've already discussed this honey," she says calmly, "because you need help."
"I need help why? What's wrong with me?" I ask frustrated.
She looks at me sympathetically, "Because you're sick, sweetie."
"If I was sick, shouldn't I be in a hospital?" I'm bitter; I was fine in Phoenix, Arizona. I had a decent life.
"You know as well as I do that you're mentally sick," she sounds a tad annoyed. It's evident she's tired of speaking to me about this.
"Cutting myself isn't enough to send me to this… prison." I make sure I pronounce the last word with hatred.
"First of all, it is. Bella-sweetie, don't you realize it's not normal to mutilate yourself? Second of all, there are other things besides that," Renée ends in a tone that means 'end of discussion.' I'm not quite finished yet, though.
"Like what? Just tell me already!" With each answer she avoids my true question. I am getting more and more upset.
My mother stares at the road for a few moments, before looking me in the eye, "If you don't know by now, you never will." She grips the steering wheel a bit tighter, and I can see the whites of her knuckles form.
I give up. No one will ever tell me.
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We finally arrive at Burnley Psychiatric Center. It was multiple buildings, all bright red brick. There was about six of them, the big main one had a sign clearly labeling the office. The grass was practically neon green, and there were trees everywhere. In the far distance I could see tennis courts, basketball courts, and a fenced in field. I notice the barbed wire at the top. Prison. Looking even closer, it's not as pretty as my first impression was. The windows have bars, and the building reeks of sadness and pain.
"C'mon honey," my mother grabs my hand pulls me to the office.
"Wait, I forgot my bag," I run back towards the car. Opening the trunk, I quickly grab my luggage and dash back to Renée.
We enter the building, and Renée immediately begins talking to the woman at the front desk. I play with the idea of taking my mom's keys and stealing her car, driving away from here, leaving her helpless.
"…Isabella Swan…" My ears automatically perk at the sound of my name, but I just ignore the rest. I don't want anything to do with this place.
"Bella, I have to go now." My mother is standing in front of me.
I just nod my head. I sense the tears forming in my eyes. If I talk now, I'll look pathetic. Voice cracking and all. She pulls me up out of the chair, and into her arms. Hugging me tightly, she whispers, "You know I love you, right?"
I want to tell her no you don't. If you loved me you would take care of me. If you loved me you wouldn't send me to this prison. If you loved me you wouldn't abandon me. But of course I nod my head, and tell her, "I love you too, Mom."
"Isabella? Follow me," a nurse in all white calls to me. She has long blonde hair, and a tall figure.
"She likes to be called Bella," Renée states before giving me a small pat on the shoulder. I grab my bag and walk towards 'Nurse Ratched.' My mother waves to me, "Bye honey, call me during your talking hours."
I can barely whimper out, "Goodbye."
"Bella, I'm going to lead you to your room, and give you some time to get adjusted and unpack. Then I'll show you around the institution. That sound alright?" She smiles at me, but before I could respond she quickly adds, "By the way, I'm Nurse Terry."
"Thanks Nurse Terry," I mumble out when she stops in front of a door labeled 237.
"This is your room, your roommate isn't back from her morning activity yet."
"Wait, I have a roommate?" I ask suddenly worried. Mom didn't tell me I was going to have to live with someone else. Now this just seems twice as unfair.
"Well, yes, everyone has roommates. I'll be back in about an hour to show you around, Bella." With that, Nurse Terry leaves me to fend for myself.
I open the door and see two beds on either side of the room. Considering I'm in a prison, the room was quite big. Next to both the beds are nightstands. On one nightstand there's a book lying on top. I investigate, my roommate's currently reading Interview with the Vampire. Across from the beds, on the wall next to the door were two dressers. I see three pictures on top of my roommate's. I'm feeling pretty nosy today and walk over, grasping the first picture in my hands.
It was of this beautiful girl, only about five-years-old or so, laughing sitting in what looks like to be her father's lap. I touch the next one, and it's just of a boy who's tall and lanky, and pitch-black hair. He's not necessarily attractive, nor ugly. As I grab the last one, I hear a voice behind me that faintly reminds me of wind chimes, "Snooping around already?"
I drop the picture, and swing around. Looking down, there's a gorgeous girl right in front of me. She is radiating good energy though, and I can now tell that she was joking with me, and not seriously angry. "Sorry," I whisper, "Are you my roommate?"
"Why else would I be in this room, silly?" She smiles, and her teeth glimmer under the light.
"I'm Bella," I nervously hold out my hand. She's too pretty to be in this prison.
"Alice," she's still smiling. Brushing past me, she picks up the photo I dropped. I get a faint smell of vanilla and cotton from her, which smells great together. "We're going to be really good friends, I can sense it."
I just can't help but grin at what she said. Alice seems too normal to be in here. "I'm glad you're my roommate," I blurt out. I really am; it's nice to have someone so bubbly. Maybe she can change my view on this hellhole.
She eyes my unpacked luggage, "Want some help?" She asks very eagerly.
I laugh gently, "Excited a bit much, aren't we?" There's nothing inside really. All plain clothes, I'm not that creative of a person with my fashion.
"I love clothes," she states with a great deal of enthusiasm, "I'm really into the fashion scene."
"Then there will be nothing fun to look at. I'm plain."
"That doesn't matter, I'm still intrigued," she steps closer to me, and gestures for me to open it already.
She really is beautiful; her hair is chopped into different directions, nice and short. Alice has piercing green eyes, which goes nice with her dark almost black hair. She has a petite frame. Her nose comes to this perfect point. I find her attractive. My whole body is leaning towards her, begging to be closer.
"You there, Bella?" She pokes me gently on my shoulder.
I come back to reality. Embarrassed I quickly tell her, "Sorry. Let's look at my crappy clothes." My cheeks are still emitting a deep shade of red.