A/N I am so so sorry. RL tried to take over, but I was able to lock it in a closet for a few hours. This takes place the same day, but give you a little insight as to Bella's feelings for Edward

I have taken 3 showers. I don't think my skin can get any more raw. Even the excessive use of Dove moisturizing body wash is now making me nauseous. My skin is even sore to the touch. And that is not including the bruises I have.

I tried looking in the mirror. But that was the third time I threw up. Fortunately that was in the bathroom. One quick flush and the memory was gone. The other times, I had to fricking wash out my garbage pail.

Here's a thought. I'm not a Catholic. I didn't go to church every Sunday, but I still feel a burn of guilt in my chest if I say Fuck..... or Damn, or ....... Christ. But somehow shit doesn't bother me. I think that is the epitome of ironic. I guess I was too busy spending my winter at the ski slopes or summers at the pool to truly rationalize the psychological ramifications of curse words. My parent would be proud, though, thinking that the reason I didn't swear was because of my upstanding christian upbringing.

It was great having Alice with me. But then it really sucked. I hate getting sick. I will do anything in my mental power to avoid the vomiting scenario. One time in high school I stayed up all night, hunched over the bathroom sink, telling myself, " I was not going to throw up..... I was not going to throw up." That was another epiphany for me. Mind over body really does work.

Alice really was great. Anyone else would have started dry heaving at the smell and the sound. She just held my hair back. Sad to say, but that is the mark of a true friend.

I know she wanted to help me. She kept trying to get me to talk. But what the hell was I going to tell her. I sure as hell wasn't going to say anything when he was there.

God, why the hell did she have to get him. It's not God at work. It's the Devil. Or maybe some freaky manifestation. The absolute last thing I wanted to was to see him and his indescribable green eyes.

I was mortified. Horrified. Beyond the definition of ashamed. He bursted into the room, with Alice on his heals, and.......... he brings me the garbage pail..

Yeah, the greek god, I have admired from afar,........... brings me a "Garbage Pail"

Now I am seriously questioning the concept of God.

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After my shower and final time emptying my stomach contents, I can't help but lay here in my bed. Alice is gone. The TV is off. My stereo is quiet. I don't even have the fortitude to listen to my IPod. I want to escape into oblivion. Forget everything ever happen.

Ironically, it's not just last night I want to purge from my memory, but the brilliant green eyes. The ones that shot right thought me this morning as I puked unceremoniously into the standard issue waste pail.

I have followed him for two years He is out of my league. An untouchable. But there he was. In my room, handing me a frickin garbage pail.

When he handed me the water bottle, I thought there was something. In his eyes. Not disgusted (because who wouldn't be disgusted at watching someone throw up) Not sympathy. I really don't even think it was compassion.

What ever it was, it helped. It helped calm my stomach. It helped me stay strong when Alice tried to drag me out of my room for food. It kept me from sinking...... sinking into the ludicrous thoughts that threatened to consume me after......... after what I let happen last night.

It was almost dinnertime, and I still was holding on to those eyes. I needed them. I cried for them. They were the only thing that helped me from falling............

A/N The more review I get, the more pressure I can put on my DH to take care of my 3 boys so I can write. Please Please help..........