Promises

Summary: She can't help it. Every time she says one more it always seems to not be true. She losing her family, she has no job, and her girlfriend is losing interest. Can our dear Bella turn her life around? Very angsty. R&R!

Chapter 1: A lousy drunk

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Bella made a distinct promise to herself. A very difficult but needed promise. Just to have one more. One more couldn't hurt her any more, one more couldn't ruin her relationship any more than it is, and one more couldn't possibly make her feel any guiltier. But like always, it was many hours into the night and she was on her eight glass. Her words were slurring and as she was lent over the bar trying to order another for her friend she barely got out her sentence.

"M-My dear. Another for my gal over here, a shot will-will do." She rambled with a hiccup, her shoulders hunched as she tries to steady herself, her forehead sticky with sweat and her clean pressed shirt damp with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Something she has been accustomed to for quite a few years. Her feet are propped up on a bar under her stool, her boots a little sticky. The carpet in this place is barely kept clean. With the likes of the city tending to spend all night here, doing god knows what under the dim lights. She taps her foot as she waits and her friends slither into the seat beside her, not nearly as drunk as Bella, and slings an arm over the inebriated woman's shoulder.

"Do you need me to call someone, love?" She asks sincerely. Having only met the drunken stranger an hour ago, and the amount she has consumed since then has caused her to worry about the brunette. Surely she has someone who could pick her up.

"N-No!" Bella shakes her head vigorously, her brunette hair slightly clinging to her face. "She won-wont forgive me." Her hands brace herself on the bar as she attempts to stand, her knees almost buckling. If it wasn't for the kind girl she would've toppled straight to the floor. "I need to go." She murmurs suddenly. Bella shrugs her off and throws some cash on the bar, mumbling a goodbye to the quirky bartender who tells her to get home safe.

As Bella hurries out the door the stranger shares a look with the bartender.

"Who is she? Is she alright?" Brushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she stands too.

"Her names Bella." She says it like it brings a bitter taste to her mouth, a slight sneer. "Bella Swan. She comes here a lot. A drunk. Nothing but a lousy drunk." The stranger blushes and looks towards the door, no longer seeing the brunette a worried crease forms on her forehead. Her worry increasing.

"Maybe I should walk her home."

A little way up the road Bella is clinging onto a cold metal rail, emptying the contents of her stomach, tears spilling from her dull doe eyes. She tried her hardest not to cry but an overwhelming urge engulfed and as she threw up all she had drunk and she couldn't hold it back any more. When she had finished she manages to stand up straight and wipe her mouth with the back of her sleeve and brushes her hair back off her sweaty face. Through her hazy gaze, she sees a figure approaching.

"Do you need help?" Bella opens and closes her mouth several times as the figure gets even closer. "Hello? It's me, Jane. From the bar?" Bella looks away, ashamed.

"Go away." She whispers. She starts to walk over but Jane reaches out and grabs her arm.

"Please. At least let me take you home, or call you a cab? Do you live around here?" Jane's eyes are creased, she's very worried. Yes, Bella may be a drunk, but she can't just leave her. For the hour they had talked she had started to take a liking to her. It was just something about how she spoke, it was attractive, even if her words were slurred and she was being silly, that didn't matter. And she couldn't live with it on her conscience if she had the chance to help her and didn't take it.

"A-A few blocks away. "I-I'll be f-fine. Don't worry." Bella manages a weak smile. She doesn't want this girl to see her in such a state. She's managed much worse all by herself.

"Bella." Jane wasn't having any of it and started leading her over to the carpark of the pub and towards a silver Volvo. Her car. "I'm taking you home, please don't walk. Come with me." Bella grumbles a thank you and gets in the passenger side and tells her the address.

It was strange to Bella. No one usually offers to help, she tends to get a lot of dirty looks and sneers instead. The kindness was appreciated. She cradles her aching stomach and rests against the door, barely keeping her eyes awake. The humming sound of the engine is soothing and before she can register what's happening her door is being tapped on. She warily opens them and yawns.

Home? She takes in the houses and a sinking feeling comes to her chest. Yes, she's home.

Bella opens her door and wanders over to the house number thirteen. It has a neatly trimmed garden, a few rose bushes and small fence surrounding the whole thing. It's a modest two-story house. With the usual large windows and an open porch before the front door.

"Well, I'm glad you're home. Maybe I'll see you around?" Bella manages more of a smile this time around and tells her a good night. The car leaves silently and Bella dreads unlocking the door. She knows she's awake and waiting. As always. Her stomachs turning as she approaches the door and puts in her key. She hates this part. A deep breath fills her lungs and she pushes open the door. She greeted with a warm scent of vanilla and a low light coming from the living room. She takes off her shoes, hand braced on the wall and kicks them towards the stand and throws her keys in the bowl by the door. Her keys are there.

She sighs and brushes her hair back, a nervous habit and approaches the living room. The warm light is their lamp, she sees her and doesn't dare breathe or move. She's sitting there ever so quietly, snuggled up in a cosy beige blanket, reading a book under the light. A half-drunken cup of tea on the coffee table and their turntable playing a classical tune quietly in the background. She's beautiful, her perfect figure is always something Bella has been envious, her height not so much. She barely reaches Bella's shoulder, and Bella loves the height on her partner. It's the perfect height for cuddling and surprise forehead kisses, not that they do that any more.

She finally puts her book down after a few moments of tense silence. She pulls the blanket off and neatly folds it, then goes over towards the bookcase and turns off the vinyl. Her back is now to Bella and she can see her shoulders visibly slump.

"I can't keep doing this Isabella." Ouch. That name stung. It's always been Bella or Bells. Never Isabella. That's the name her mother calls her, the name she gets when someones trying to push her buttons. And never Isabella from Alice's mouth. It hits her chest like a bullet and she visibly flinches.

"I-I'm s-"

"Don't." She's cut off by her sharp voice piercing the air. It's silent immediately and when she finally gathers the courage to turn around her eyes are on the brink of watering, fists clenched by her sides. Not in the way where she wants to hit something, it's more she needs the distraction or she'll burst into tears; because seeing Bella likes this breaks her heart. Bella isn't the happy girl she used to be and that's damaging her in more ways than she ever thought it could. "That's not what I need. I need you to cut it out. To stop this. It's not who you are. You're not /this/ person." She brushes past her to go upstairs, barely looking at her. "I don't want you in my bed tonight."

"But Alice."

"No. This is not easy for me and you know it. Get yourself cleaned up." She starts her way towards the stairs. "I'll see you in the morning." With that final word she goes upstairs, her feet pressing on the soft carpet that they chose out together. Everything in the house was theirs, it was their house. They chose it together. The wallpaper, the furnishing, the flooring, carpets, paintings. Everything was a bitter reminder of who they were, and now. Well, now it's all like a slap in the face. All of the happy memories of them decorating, spraying each other with paint and laughing, of being out and choosing everything they wanted, stuff that was just theirs, it hurt to think about.

Alice goes towards their once shared room and cradles herself, she can hear Bella downstairs rummaging through the cupboards for a spare duvet set. She starts to cry. That's her Bella. She loves her. She loves her so much but there's nothing she can do to help. She understands that since Charlie passed it was difficult, but it's been years, she thinks some of the pain would be shielded by now. She thinks with her being by Bella's side she should have helped, and it's so hard to watch. She's destroying herself. Every day is a new promise she can't keep, or an appointment she can't make, or a date she's forgotten.

Alice sighs and closes her eyes. It's a problem for another day, she grabs Bella's old pillow and pulls it to her chest, holding it impossibly close.

Downstairs Bella is having a hard time not throwing up, she's found the cover shell need and a pillow but shes hugging her stomach like there's no tomorrow and barely makes it to the downstairs bathroom before she's throwing up again. Her heads dizzy and she needs a glass of water, but being hunched over a toilet isn't making the possible. She sobs and wipes her mouth with some tissue.

"I'm pathetic." She gets to her feet and flushes the toilet, making it her mission to get water, tablets and a mint before going to the sofa to sleep. She would sleep in the spare room but she feels unworthy. That's for family members and guests, not a drunken idiot who can barely walk.

It's a job just to get to the kitchen, with her head pounding louder she grabs a glass and fumbles through the draws for a packet of mints and aspirin, she chugs two and goes back to the sofa, taking a seat and burying her head in her hands.

What a night.

Her girlfriend probably doesn't even love her any more and she's resorted to talking to strange women in bars just to feel something. She truly is pathetic and thinking that she wipes her tears and lays down, switching on the tv for some noise and closes her eyes.

Maybe when she wakes up it'll all have been a dream.