Saving Bella

by Red Pandas Dnt Eat Cheezits

Bella’s been broken one too many times. She can hardly trust anyone with the exception of a couple people to a certain extent. When Edward comes to town, can he finally heal this broken Bella? Or will it turn out to be a catastrophe? AU. All human. BxE

2. Flashes

Warning: This chapter is slightly angsty. Just wanted you to know.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does. I'm just playing with the characters, and their humanity.

Chapter 2 - Flashes

For the past six years, I've spent most of my time here. Occasionally, my uncle would let me sleep in my own house, but that was a rarity in itself. But he let's me and Skip—my dog—stay over all the time. Even though my mother and Charlie were divorced, he wfwipingafs still hopelessly in love with my mom. So, he took her death hard, burying himself in his work. That's what he usually did, go to the police station and work as Chief of Police Swan. Never Charlie Swan, Bella's father. Of course, occasionally, he'd be at home, but he's completely robotic when he is. Hardly showing any emotions—which he did previously, but it'd only gotten worse after the incident.

I walked past the living room and quickly went to one of the empty guest rooms that I've unofficially claimed as my own. Uncle Tim doesn't believe that I'm grown up enough for me to be alone at home—even though that's not the case—so I spend practically every weekend or the weekdays here. And it's not like I could just ask someone from school if I could crash at their place for a while. No one really talks to me. And I wish I could blame that on my mother's death, the fact that my uncle is the principle, or the other number of things that went wrong, but that's not it. I'm just not a really a people person. What a shocker, right?

I closed the door and tried quickly change into more comfortable leisure clothes. I dug through my duffel bag for the regular items: an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers. I found the boxers easily. I picked a random pair that happened to be my blue spongebob ones with yellow letterings that said, Appearing live at the Bikini Bottom on the back. Jasper gave them to me as a joke, how thoughtful, right? As I was sifting through my bag I found that I didn't have one of Charlie's old t-shirts I was always stealing them from him; not like he noticed anyway. I shoved the boxers over my regular underwear, and I slipped off my jacket and t-shirt, so I only had my tank top on.

I snuck my way into my cousin's room. He was bigger than me, bigger than Charlie, so his shirts would work perfectly. I opened his closet, sifting through all of his button down tees and his manly tank tops. I found a decent one, it was the Mariners shirt he bought a couple years ago that Aunt Stacy won't let him wear because there was a weird bleach stain on the left shoulder. I slipped it on over my tank top.

"Jazz!" I called from upstairs. I pulled the rubber tie from my hair, that I placed a couple hours ago, and let it fall against my shoulders. I fluffed it out so it wouldn't just lie flat against my head. "I'm using your Mariners Shirt!"

Yes, Jasper Hale is my cousin. Isn't that sad? My best friend, my only friend, is my boy cousin. I realize this doesn't make any sense. Even people at school don't get it. Some don't even realize that Jasper and Rosalie Hale are directly related to Principle Swan like they do with me, but they are. You see, when Aunt Stacy was having these two, she was, apparently, so delirious from the pain of labors that she was insistent that her children bear her maiden name. It was a moment of feminism that I didn't think my aunt was ever capable of, considering she's the most girly girly ex-cheerleader, Ms. Popular, and Queen Bee—yeah, that's where Rose gets it. Plus, they are both blonde with blue eyes and don't have dark brown hair or eyes like their father does . . . used to . . . kinda has.

The doorbell rang, but I didn't mind it. It was probably one of my cousin's many admirers or friends. They come over constantly, coming and going as they pleased. And Uncle Time and Aunt Stacy didn't mind. Aunt Stacy missed her large family so she loved having a full house whenever the opportunity arrives. That's probably why I noticed that she was making a lot of food for just us five. Maybe she invited some of their friends over.

I started walking down the steps, ignoring whoever's company arrived. Whether it was one of Rosalie's many man candies, girls, or followers or Jazz's guy friends or fan girls I pretended like they weren't there like I usually do.

"Hi! Come in! Come in!" my aunt's cheery voice bubbled. It must be someone she knew then. Darn it! Now I'm going to get in trouble for being 'unrepresentable' as both my uncle and aunt would say. They don't mind me dressing like this when it's just us, and they will barely tolerate it if it's one of Jasper's or Rose's friends, but they go completely ballistic if it's one of their guests.

"I'm Stacy Swan, and these are my kids: Jasper and Rosalie Hale. Tim is getting ready right now, but he'll be here in a minute. You must be Mr. And Mrs. Cullen," I could hear the smile in her forced cheeriness. I have to give my aunt her props. She's been doing the fake cheeriness since high school because of the cheerleading thing, so it's sounds so authentic, that I would almost believe it. Almost. But I could hear the slight hysteria in her voice.

Oh. My. God. Cullen? As in Cullen? As in Edward Cullen? As in the Cullen Family? Maybe this is some sort of sick coincidence.

I froze on the steps, with my eyes budging out of their sockets. This has to be some sick joke Jasper cooked up. I right now, I could see Rose, Jazz, and Aunt Stace at the front door, but I couldn't see the Cullens because the door was blocking the way. The front stairs were on the side, out of the way, but I would be seen if they stepped out. Maybe I could sneak into my room, and then go down the other set of stairs that lead to the kitchen. That'd be the best thing to do.

"Jasper, Rose, will you show the Cullen Family around for a little while?" I could see the panic in my aunt's eyes. "I've got to check on dinner. It'd be nice if I could get a little help around here," her laugh was forced. It was joined in by two other sets of adult-like laughter.

Translation: Dinner is hardly finished and the guests are here. Why hasn't Bella came downstairs yet and helped like she normally does?

Aunt Stace stepped aside for them to come in, and she turned around to see me frozen at the stairs. She gave me a crazed look, silently demanding me to get changed, and fast. But I couldn't move. And when I could it was too late.

"Thank you for inviting us," a tall blonde who was a highly attractive thirty-something year old man said.

"It's so kind of you inviting us last minute. And you probably have had plans," the same woman, from the office earlier said. She looked more polished than she did earlier. I noticed that she wasn't bad looking at all, her messy hair just drew all the attention away from her pretty features.

Wait a minute. That's not good. Then that means the last name Cullen, wasn't a coincidence at all.

"This is my eldest, Emmett," she pointed to the largest curly black haired one, who I already knew was Emmett. "And my youngest, Edward and then Alice."

"You have a lovely house Mrs. Swan," Alice commented, observing the house. Sure, it was one of the better sized and looking houses in Forks, but that's only because my aunt is some sort of heiress to some old wrinkly-guy who has a lot of money. The guy—her father—was loaded. But my uncle, the bad boy all around cool guy, had won her heart and they had gotten married. Real sweet right?

"Sweet digs, Ma'am," Emmett held out his bear claw-like hand to shake my aunt's. I could see her eying it carefully as she placed her delicate hand inside of it.

I could see Mrs. Cullen nudge Edward. "It's a very nice house, Mrs. Swan," Edward said, smoothly. Even though the expression on his face, you could tell it was forced.

I took that as my sign to start getting clothes on before anyone sees me. I started slowly creeping up the steps as quietly as I could. My foot smacked into something hard, I'm assuming my other foot, and caused me to crash on the floor with an echoing ka-thump!

All of the heads whipped in my direction. I could feel each of their gazes boring onto my figure. I knew I had a couple of options. I could either stay on the floor, and pretend to be unconscious. Or I could get up and sneak away as I intended, and look completely idiotic. Or I could get up, say hi, and quickly run and get changed. As tempting as the first option sounded, I decided to go with the third.

I stood up abruptly to look into two pairs of bemused eyes, one pair of furious eyes, three pairs of amusement, and two pairs of disbelief for two completely different reason. They all stared at me, and then their eyes drifted to my boxers. I ignored that, and plastered on a fake smile, and attempted a wave.

"Uh, hi," I tried avoiding eye contact with my aunt. "I'm, er . . . Bella. I'll be um . . . back."

I could see Jasper on the verge of bursting into laughter. I glared at him. I walked backwards, trying not the let the Bikini Bottom part of my boxers show. I reached backwards for the door handle, and opened my door quickly. I closed it, pressing my back against the wall. My cheeks flushed a bright red as I started to feel the embarrassment wash over me. Then, slowly, I started feeling hollow. Lonely. Alone.

I forced those emotions down, and looked for a pair of jeans. I found a pair and slipped them over my boxers. They were slightly baggy, but stayed in place, so I didn't bother in getting a belt. I slipped off the Mariners shirt and put on my stripped black and gray jacket over my green unlacy tank top. I didn't even bother on zipping up the jacket. I looked in the mirror and sighed. I knew my aunt wouldn't approve of this at all. So I looked through my bag for anything 'presentable'. I found a pair of jeans that fitted correctly over my body and a plain cerulean blue crew cut shirt over my tank top, letting the green stick out in some places.

I opened the door, peaking to see if anyone was there. There wasn't. Good. I sighed in relief. I crept my way down the alternate staircase. My Aunt was in the kitchen frantically trying to get dinner ready. She seemed to be mashing the potatoes, frying the green beans, putting the garlic bread in the oven, and checking the roast all at once. I was surprised at the speed and the accuracy such a tiny woman can have.

"Finally Bells!" she sighed exasperatedly, while wiping her forehead causing some mashed potatoes on her forehead. "Good. You changed," she nodded in approval. "Come on, you can start on desert."

"What do you want me to make?" I asked looking in the refrigerator for any ingredients for me to use.

"I was thinking apple pie," Aunt Stacy pulled the bread out of the oven and went back to tending the potatoes.

"Cool," I pulled out the grated knife and starting cutting the garlic bread into rectangular pieces. "Frozen?"

She smiled at me sheepishly. "No. But I have a frozen crust you could use," she used her head to indicate to the freezer.

I took the potato smasher from her hand. "Aunt Stace, please. I got it. I'll finish dinner, go to the guests. You don't want Uncle Tim to show them his knife and gun collection do you?" I raised my eyebrows knowingly.

"Your right," my aunt handed me the plastic black potato smasher. She took off her white and red stripped apron. "I'll be back, soon," she said. We both knew she wouldn't be back to check on dinner.

"Aunt Stace!" I called after her. She froze on the spot, and swerved around.

"Yes?"

"There's something on your forehead," I indicated with my finger.

Her eyes widened, and touched the exact place on her forehead where the mash potatoes where.

"Oh!" she remarked, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe it off. "Thank you sweetie!"

She went off to tend to the guests like the good hostess she is. I bent down to one of the cupboards that contained the aprons. I took out my This is what a really cool Grandma looks like apron. It's one of the many awesome presents Jasper gives me. He got me two, one for here and the other for home. He's just that thoughtful.

I turned my attention to the potato mess in front of me. I sighed. I started to finish my aunt's mashing job. And then quickly sprinkling appropriate amounts of salt and pepper in it. I poured the contents in one of the white serving bowl. I took the green beans out of the frying pan, and placed them in a green platter. I placed a towel in the serving plate that we always placed the bread in. I stacked the bread artfully—not—and wrapped the ends of the towel over the bread so it could stay hot. I peaked at the thermometer on the roast. It was approximately fifteen minutes left so I decided to start on the pie.

I took out the usual ingredients: apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I had to reach in the back of one of the cabinets where they kept all of the apples in a large bin due to the big all-year apple tree in the backyard. I started to slice five apples. After cutting myself roughly, four or five times, I finished cutting them.

There was a polite round of laughter and then muffled murmuring. I sighed.

I tried to focus on the apple pie. I took out a large mixing bowl, and stirred the sugar, flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg. When I was satisfied with the mixture, I poured in the apples and continued stirring once more.

I decided to check on the meat once more. Medium-Rare. Perfect. I took the meat out and let it rest on the stove top. The warm fragrance of the meat and the herbs was mouth watering.

I got the frozen pie crust from the freezer tore the plastic with my nails. I poured the mixture into the pie crust and stuck it in the oven. I lowered the temperature just a smidge for the pie. I put the timer for thirty minutes, knowing I'd forget otherwise. I placed the food in the dinning table, knowing that they wouldn't see me because they were in the living room, which was in the other exit of the kitchen. I felt relieved when I saw that Rose and Jazz had already set the plates.

I sat on the black stool, and leaned over the granite counter top, not exactly feeling up to meeting the whole Cullen family. So instead, I grabbed a copy of Rose's Cosmopolitan magazine that was just lying there. I decided to read it and put it somewhere else, just so she wouldn't get in trouble. Not because I want to read it or anything. Nope, no urge to read the completely phony and cheesy and not to mention slightly degrading magazine. So, I opened the glossy pink cover and started reading the "Guy's Body Language" article and taking the "Are You Approachable?" Quiz. I found that I'm extremely unapproachable and that I needed to lighten up. Wow. What a newsflash. I was starting to read the section about the guy's body language thing, when I heard footsteps coming my way.

Thinking it was Rosalie, I quickly hid the magazine under the nearby People Magazine so she wouldn't see me reading it. I continued scanning the article, flickering my eyes upward when the footsteps got louder and quickly placed them back on the surprisingly informative article.

"This isn't the bathroom," a familiar voice commented wryly.

I looked up, feigning uninterested. "Oh, hi," I tilted my head to the side trying to fight the smile on my face. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing much. Just, you know, looking for a bathroom," he grinned. I watched his eyes trail down and look at my apron. "You look a little young to be a grandma," he commented.

I snorted. "Why thank you. But I have three grandchildren: Emily, Jane, and Cathy"

I looked back on the page. Who knew if a guy slept in a fetal position they're afraid of getting their heart broken? I wonder if that applies to women too . . .

"Really? Only girls, I see," he walked closer.

I instinctively clutched the magazine closer which just made him look at the magazine more closely.

"Cosmopolitan, huh? I thought you were more of a Times or a Reader's Digest person myself," he smirked.

My mouth dropped. "How do you—?"

He pointed at the tiny exposed glossy pink cover sticking out from underneath the outer magazine.

"But still how—?" I tried asking again.

"There are two women in my house," he raised his eyebrows, like it was self-explanatory. Which, I guess it was. But I'm a girl and I don't read Cosmo religiously. . . usually. . . sometimes. . . Well, not all the time.

"Mm-hmm," I nodded. My eyes trailed back down the the mag's page.

I heard him shuffle his feet nervously. "So . . . Jasper's your cousin."

His silken voice made me look up automatically. "Told you he wasn't my boyfriend. Yeesh! That's disgusting. My family doesn't believe in inbreeding you know."

He chuckled, once again nervous. Wow. "Bathroom?" he asked with a grin on his face. Edward had this strange grin on this face. It was the type of grin that made you just want to smile back at him.

I shook my head. "Um, over there," I pointed to the hall that would lead to the dining room. "Go past the dining room and it's the first door on your left."

He nodded and went in that direction. My eyes trailed after him as he made his way, until he disappeared.

"Cute," a voice murmured approvingly.

I looked over nervously, where the voice had came from.

"Um . . . Aunt Stacy? Ew," I scrunched up my nose feigning disgust as best as I could. Of course, being my aunt, she saw right through it.

She placed a hand delicately on her chest in shock. "Just because I'm old, Bella, doesn't mean I'm blind," she said with a mischievous smirk. "So . . . ?"

"So, what?"

"So . . . isn't he just a hunk?" she giggled.

My jaw dropped at the word hunk. What is my aunt thinking?! Saying?! Does she realize that Edward isn't too far away? And did she really just use the word hunk?

"Uhh . . ." my eyes darted to the side anxiously. "Not really Aunt Stace."

She tilted her head to the side with the innocent expression, everything except her smile. It was this devious little thing that she uses on me constantly.

"Really? He's so adorable, I could've just eaten him up!" she winked at me.

My mouth was still gapping open.

"Oh Bella," she shook her head to the side slowly. "It wouldn't hurt to just, get out there again."

Oh god. She was serious now. All hints of playfulness had disappeared in a matter of nanoseconds.

"Uncle Tim and Charlie wouldn't like it," I murmured looking down at the magazine sheepishly hoping that if hid my face, I could just disappear under the magazine.

"Of course they wouldn't!" from her tone, I could picture her rolling her eyes. "But we don't have to tell them the exact moment it happens."

I looked up and sighed knowing that there would be no way around it. "Maybe," I mumbled loud enough for her to hear.

She nodded, knowing that wasn't a yes, but a no with possibilities. And that's all it's going to stay. A no with no possibilities. Wasn't that just lovely? My aunt, trying to set me up, with Edward. That's just sad. I mean, I could see her point of view I guess. But to just . . . push it on me. I don't think I could do it.

"Well, I'll go tell everyone that dinner's ready," she gave me a sympathetic smile. She paused, placing a hand on my shoulder, and patted it. "You can't run from everything Bells."

"I can try," I whispered to myself as she walked back into the room with the guests.

When she was gone, I slumped in my seat. Flashes of every disappointment, every horrible thing that has ever occurred to me, flashed before me. All of the deaths, dissatisfactions, failures, and grief I've caused haunted me at that moment. Just that tiny comment, triggered it all. Tiny comments like that could do that sort of damage. The pain ripped through me. I've never experienced anything worse than emotional pain before. I've experienced physical pain plenty of times, constantly because of my klutz persona, but the emotional rips you from the inside, and tears itself out. Exposing your weakness to the world.

That's when the numbing feeling came again. It started in the hollow of my throat and started spreading it's way slowly like a disease. I couldn't control it; couldn't push it down and feel what I should feel; what I needed to feel. I needed to cry, but my tear ducts couldn't even produce a single tear. Instead, I felt a bleak nothingness overwhelm all of my senses, dulling me into a barely conscious state. It was almost like an out of body experience. Reluctantly, I let it take control of my body, overwhelming anything and everything.

"Bella," a hoarse voice gripped my arms shaking me awake.

My head was foggy, but I was aware what was happening.

"Jazz," I groaned. I didn't realize how tightly I was gripping the new magazines. They were crumpled in my hands with my knuckles an eerie white. I released them, letting it drop to the linoleum floor. "Let me go," I forced the words out.

He grumbled something that I didn't completely pick up. Jasper swept me up, cradling me tightly, crystal blue eyes were searching mine.

"Come on Bells, not now," he begged. "We have guests. We don't want them to think we're crazy," his attempt to joke, but his voice break at the end making me aware of his own pain of seeing me like this.

His eyes were blazing with worry. I felt myself soften up, and begin to slowly feel again. Jasper must have been able to see some life ignite back within me, slowly warming my body up, and he gave me a weak grin.

"Bells," he sighed in relief.

"Who'd you think it is? The tooth fairy?" I scowled, trying to get out of his arms without falling three feet to the ground.

He just grinned and my restless form. "Come on, everyone's wondering where you are."

"No one knows who I am," I said not expecting the hurt to seep through my voice.

He rolled his eyes. "Right," Jazz scoffed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Seriously."

"We're about to eat and Mom wants you there—preferably sane," he said with a laugh, trying to make light of things.

"Ha," I said. "What about—"

"The pie?" Jasper finished for me. "When the timer buzzed off, really loud, and you didn't come to stop it, I came and stop it myself."

"Oh," I murmured.

He finally let me go and let my feet touched the ground. Finally. I took off the stupid apron and tossed it on the stool chair, because the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself—more like my aunt and uncle—further than necessary.

I followed Jasper into the dinning room where everyone sat. My uncle sat at one end with Jasper to the right sitting where the corner should be, on my uncle's right. My aunt sat next to Jazz, then Rosalie occupied the seat next to it, where the seat next to her, my seat when there were guests, was empty. Mr. Cullen sat in the the other end, but in between his seat and mine, where the corner was Edward was shoved in there. His mother, Mrs. Cullen, sat in the seat to Mr. Cullen's right. Alice, the pixie-girl, sat between her mother and Emmett who was occupying a lot of space because of his broad shoulders, and muscular body. They all looked up at my appearance, just like before, only, this time I had pants on. The Cullen's expression compared to my family's contrasted deeply. My family looked concern, knowing what had happened in the kitchen, even though they wouldn't speak of it. How were they supposed to? They couldn't possibly understand, and, I consider that a good thing. No one should have seen the things I've saw. No one deserves that. The Cullens merely looked curious, even amused.

I waved tentatively. "Hi, again," I smiled weakly.

"Carlisle, Esme, this is my niece Isabella Swan," my uncle introduced me in his deep business voice. "Bells, this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen and Esme Cullen."

A doctor, is that so? So that means if I would have faked my coma earlier, when I fell, he would have seen through my pretense. Well, that's sucks. I wonder how Edward, Alice, and Emmett fake multiple illnesses like normal kids do to get out of stuff.

"Edward told us a lot about you," Carlisle said, as I took my seat.

Edward was so close to me, I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. I had to be very meticulous when it came to when I moved a right arm or leg. I didn't want it to touch Edward's skin because I was frightened at the reaction that it might have when it made contact with Edward's.

"Is that so?" I peered at Edward out of the corner of my eye. His ears were turning pink.

"Dad," he groaned quietly, shutting his eyes. Probably to tune his parents out. I used to do that.

"He told us how you made him that knew schedule of him and how you're sharing lockers with him since there are none available. That is so kind of you," Esme gushed lovingly. She was so . . . nice and motherly. It was hard not to love this woman.

I shrugged serving myself a helping of potatoes. Everyone has their serving of food, and different colored drinks that ranged from wine to sparkling water to Coke to lemonade. The food on each of their plates looked relatively untouched. They were probably waiting for me.

"Just doing my job Mrs. Cullen," I replied modestly.

"Call me Esme," she said with a kind smile.

"And me Carlisle," he gave me a similar smile. Wow these people were so . . . nice. Too nice. I wonder if it was all a huge pretense.

"Well, let's eat!" Uncle Tim bellowed joyously. He and Emmett were the firsts ones to dig into their food.

Alice picked up her fork daintily and chewed the meat precariously. She grinned, and then ate some more. Each of them ate hungrily and appreciatively with grins of their own.

"Mrs. Swan, this is fantastic!" Esme said.

"It's delicious," Carlisle smiled, thankfully.

They both were so . . . in sync that is was unbelievable. They were like two people who completed each other—as corny as it sounds. I didn't even know that was possible, but apparently it is. The way they gazed into each other's eyes subtly explains it all.

My aunt blushed. "Oh, I can't take all the credit. Really, it's Bella's recipe. She came up with most of it, and helped in the kitchen after . . . ," she looked hesitantly to my uncle. "After she tidied up."

Jazz, Rose, and Aunt Stace knew better than to talk about the boxers incident with the Cullens when Uncle Tim was here, he'd explode if he found out. Too bad Emmett didn't know that.

"Yeah, Bella, I didn't know you lived in Bikini Bottom," Emmett snickered with a mouthful of food, which made Esme look at Emmett hastily in warning. "You're boxers said your appearing live, there."

Rats.

"What?!" Uncle Tim bellowed.

He tried to contain the volume and the veracity in his voice, but I could hear it slowly gaining control. His face froze in rage. His eyes were serious, and slightly glazed over, I flinched involuntarily at his expression. His face flickered a second. His brown eyes flashed, and turned into the pitch black soulless ones that haunted me.

An inadvertent whimper escaped my lips. It brought me back to reality. I realized that I was now unintentionally leaning on Edward's body, clutching to some sort of cloth in my hand. I was highly aware of the fact that Edward's hand was squeezing my leg reassuringly, almost comforting. I jolted to the side, ripping myself away from Edward, releasing his shirt—which was the cloth I was holding—and clutched the end of the table in a vain attempt to replace Edward's shirt. The ragged edges of the table dug into my skin, making me feel some sort of physical pain—it was the only way to know if I was still alive.

Uncle Tim's expression changed abruptly. His features turned soft in concern realizing what he had done wrong instantly. "Bells, I'm sorry I didn't—I wasn't think—"

"It's fine. I'm fine," I pressed through gritted teeth. I could tell no one believed me.

I lifted my eyes up so I could only see Uncle Tim's face, and no one else's. I couldn't handle it if I saw the burning gazes of pity, confusion, and concern. I could already imagine it all too well. I could see the hurt in his eyes for causing whatever horrible memories he had scrounged up accidentally.

"Bella," my aunt's voice had a twinge of warning in it. I turned my gaze to her and mentally challenged her to say it. To say what she was thinking. I knew what she was thinking. That I was running away from my problems again. That I wouldn't allow myself to feel the pain. It wasn't my fault! It wasn't like I wanted to feel this way.

"Is she okay?" a voice whispered hoarsely. I didn't even bothered looking to who said it. No one replied, for obvious reasons.

I shut my eyes as the numbness overwhelmed me. Exactly on schedule. I opened them, dully.

"See?" I said apathetically. There was no emotion whatsoever in my voice, "I'm fine."

No one believed me, again. Of course they wouldn't. I scolded myself mentally. Why did I have to mess dinner up? Why do I always have to mess everything up? Everything was my fault . . . I can't ever control what I do, and it leads to these disastrous events. Why? Why do I always have to do this? The numbing strengthened at my thoughts.

To convince my audience further, I cut the roast with my knife, making the excess juices overflow on my plate. Even though I didn't have an appetite at all, I placed a piece of the steak and chewed. Than I shoved mashed potatoes in my mouth. I flushed in down with large audible gulps of Coke and repeated the process. Eventually, they did the same, eating their meals.

"How was work Dad?" Jasper asked, trying to take the attention off of me. I looked up at him gratefully, seeing him looking at me anxiously from the corner of his eyes.

He titled his head to the side as if remembering the strangest of things. "You know, the strangest thing happened at work today," he mused to himself. Ahh, so I am right. "Hank Beail, the new teacher, he came up to me and started talking about knives and how his brother is in the navy. It was so strange. He then convinced me to get ice cream—sugar-free with chocolate sauce no less! And then he gave me three Cuban cigars." He shook his head incredulously. "I have no idea why he did that, being so nice to me. And it was as if he could read my mind . . . ," he looked at me suspiciously with a knowing grin on his face.

"Wow, that is weird," I commented wryly. I glanced at Edward to my right who was trying to suppress laughter.

The attention drifted off of me, slowly, thanks to Jasper. They tore their gazes away, and started to grin. I felt better when he did so. I was starting to feel slowly once more.

" . . . and then I pushed her out the window," Edward said with a grin looking at me. I noticed the way he expected my uncle to scold me for doing something like that, but I knew he wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. Walking around in my boxers, yes, but impersonating a counselor and using their equipment, never.

I wrinkled my nose, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"No way!" Alice's eyes stared at me, then back at her brother in obvious disbelief. "You did not push Bella out the window!"

"I did," he smirked, his eyes twinkling at the memory. "And then she fell."

"And my butt still hurts," I grumbled, with an involuntary grin.

The table erupted in booming laughter.

"Typical, Bells," Uncle T said between laughs.

I scowled playfully. "I couldn't just pop out of the closet! Morton already thinks I'm crazy because of what I did last Christmas."

Jasper and Rosalie snorted with laughter while my aunt and uncle shook their heads in disapproval trying to mask their amusement.

"What?" Emmett asked confused. His black eyebrows scrunched together, with a look of pure innocence.

I pursed my lips. "Nothing," I grumbled.

My face twisted up at the memory. His face was so hilarious. Too bad the whole staff still teased me about it constantly. 'How'd you get them Bells?' 'Hey, is one missing? Bella, you better not be doing something with your boyfriend.' 'Did you have to show them your ID Isabella?'

"Bella, gave him condoms for Christmas when he and Ms. Sophia Matthews started . . . er . . . having relations together. In the janitor's closet. Every hour, on the hour," Jasper smirked.

"Get to the point Jazz," my uncle rolled his eyes, playfully.

"So she gave him boxes of for his and her condoms and gave him a note that said . . ." he looked at me with a smirk. "What did it say Bells?"

"You know exactly what it said," I grumbled to everyone's amusement.

He looked up and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don't think I do," he said making Alice giggle.

"It said, 'If you're going to have sex all the time, you might as well be protected. All the time,' " I poked a piece of steak with my fork causing the people who already knew what happened, and the men laugh hysterically, and Alice and Esme to gasp, then laugh.

Everyone was practically finished with their meal, so right now people shared stories about each other, to the other person's embarrassment. I learned that Alice used to dress up her older brother—by seven months apparently, Alice was born a preemie, which explained her tiny stature, but whatever health conditions she was born with had disappeared; she seemed perfectly fine now—in girlish outfits. She gave us vivid descriptions of Edward in a purple tu-tu that she wore for Halloween one year. And how he had a matching tiara and wand. Edward shot his sister a look, and then talked about the time when Alice was being potty trained she fell through the little donut hole toilet training seat that parent's used for kids when they're still too small to use the toilet without it. He said how her butt got stuck, and how he and Emmett tried to pry her out before their parents came. Which got Carlisle on a tale how Emmett thought he was allergic to pizza because he took a bite of it, and he swelled up like a big red balloon. Emmett completely freaked out, but not over the allergic reaction itself, but the fact he wouldn't be able to have a slice of pizza himself.

"You think it's funny until it happens to you!" he grumbled making the laughing harder. "I mean, a life without pizza! It's unheard of!"

"You're right Em, being allergic to pizza, the horror! What next? Being allergic to peanut butter?" Edward teased.

Emmett's eyes widened in horror. "That's impossible!" he cried. "Peanut butter is the most heavenly substance on Earth, no one should be allergic to it."

"Sadly," Alice sighed, with a smirk on her face. "Edward is telling the truth."

Emmett narrowed his eyes. "You lie . . . Both of you, lie."

"Is the pie ready Bella?" my uncle rubbed his stomach for desert.

I nodded. "Yup. I'll start cutting the pieces," I stood up, heading for the kitchen.

"I'll go with you," I heard Edward's chair squealed as he got up to help me.

"How thoughtful Edward, thank you," my aunt said approvingly. I saw her cast me a quick glance, telling me how polite and considerate he is. Right.

Edward followed me to the kitchen, leaning on the counter top with one elbow watching me as I took out the ice cream. And proceeded to cut the pie. I cut the pieces and placed each of them on a plate.

"Rose will want more ice cream than pie, so give her more. Jasper will want an even amount of each. Uncle Tim too. Aunt Stace will want less ice cream," I told him. He did exactly as told, watching me carefully. I waited for him to ask the inevitable.

"So, what was that? In the dinning room I mean," he asked conversationally. I could hear the slight edge of his voice like he was demanding to know. Like he needed to know.

I looked at him, bemused. "What? What are you talking about?" I asked.

He looked at me, not believing a second of my performance.

"Oh!" I chuckled to myself. "That. That was nothing. I was just forgot to do something. And now, I'll get in trouble."

He looked at me unbelievingly. "You're a crappy liar," he stated.

"Am not!" I crossed my arms together with the pie serving triangular tool still in my right hand.

His left eyebrow puckered. "So you forgot two things that'll get you in trouble? I saw you in the kitchen. I had to tell Jasper to do something," his green eyes were filled with concern.

Concern was the absolute last thing I need. I have too much of it. I always have too much of it. That's all people ever give me. That look, of wanting to understand and help, just because of the situation. Except, there was something different in his eyes.

"I thought Jasper said he heard the buzzer," I searched through my memory, and it was right. That's what he had told me. That's what I believed.

Edward snorted. "And you believed him? He lied Bella."

I narrowed my eyes. "Jazz, wouldn't . . . Never mind," I grumbled changing my mind.

I grabbed as many plates as I could—which was three—and Edward carried the rest easily placing them in front of each correct person.

"Thank you," each one of them mumbled politely.

"Bells, we're going to go to the living room," my uncle informed me. "So you, Rose, and Jazz can take Emmett, Alice, and Edward into the lounge okay?"

I nodded. He used the word lounge, like it was some fancy place with a moose's head mounted on the wall above a fireplace, with a large skinned rug of some poor animal, with a large leather couch, with an intimidatingly big bookcase, and oak desk, but that wasn't the case at all. The lounge was just an extra room with a HD TV set with a PlayStation3, an Xbox 360, and a Wii. It also had a cable box, a couple couches, bean bag chairs, a computer, an empty desk, and several bookshelves. It even had it's own mini-fridge and toaster oven.

We walked over to the room and Emmett and Edward's mouth gapped open.

"Awesome!" Emmett nodded approvingly. He went to go observe the television set more carefully. "Plasma, nice."

Alice pranced around the place, and sat on a chair. She crossed her legs, sitting in a traditional meditation-like position. Rosalie took her usual spot on the larges of couches and Emmett sat down next to her chatting enthusiastically with her. She seemed interested in the conversation. Strange. She usually pretended to be interested, but right now it looked genuine. Alice looked at Jasper and started talking to him animatedly, while Jasper answered back shyly.

Since everyone was preoccupied, I snatched the remote while I had the chance and flipped on the TV. I flipped through the List section where all of the recorded shows were kept. The new episode of Bones I haven't had the chance to watch it yet. I played it watching it anxiously. I loved the beginning of each episode; the part that gets you excited the most. The beginning showed a body with a decapitated head that was found in the forest. Apparently, the superstitions blamed a local witch on that, but Bones—Dr. Brennan—thinks otherwise.

I heard someone next to me snort.

It was much closer and louder than I anticipated. Like the person was right next to me. I looked over to my side to see Edward, once again, really close to me. Our bodies almost touching. He was looking at the screen with a amused look on his face finding it oddly funny. After the opening credits were finished, Edward scoffed and chuckle multiple times making me even more aware of the distance—or lack thereof—between us. I looked at him, trying to understand his cryptic response of what's happening.

"You find decomposed decapitated bodies funny?" I remarked, with an grin that was almost automatic.

He looked at me, the sides of his mouth was twitching. "So you're talking to me again?" he pretended to be shocked.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm talking to you. And don't make me change my mind."

He didn't hide his smirk anymore. "Hodgins is the smart one, next to Bones and Zack. And he believes in all that superstitious stuff?" he scoffed.

"Some people believe in it," I defended Hodgins. He was my favorite character.

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you?" he asked.

"Well I—no. Kinda. Sorta. Not really," I mumbled. "Hodgins is just kinda awesome."

He laughed, his eyes full of humor. I turned my attention back to the TV.

"Hodgins is my favorite character too, next to Booth," he said thoughtfully.

"Booth?" I turned back around to look at him since it was a commercial. "Why Booth?"

"Why Hodgins?" he asked with a lop-sided grin.

I shrugged. "I don't know. He's just . . . funny, smart, and rich. And then the thing with Angela. It's kinda sweet . . . ," I confessed shamefully.

"So you like the witty, bookworm, filthy-rich guys who fall hopelessly in love with a girl, despite whether or not it might turn out disastrous," he didn't say it bitterly like I expected, but it was more calm. Like he was stating a well known fact.

"I . . . um . . . no. I don't," I tried to say.

He just looked at me and flashed me a weak smile. "Just an observation."

"I don't care about the rich part," I whispered not knowing if he heard or not.

"So, what if he's completely broke?" he asked. He shifted his body so it was angled more at me and less at the TV screen.

"Then he's broke. I guess it wouldn't matter if I loved him." Like I of all people could fall in love.

"What if he's rich? Really, really rich?" he suggested once more.

I shrugged. "Then he's rich," I said.

He just snickered, while something unfamiliar flashed in his eyes. I turned to the screen trying to figure out what exactly the look in his eyes was. I went through every possible emotion that I could think of. I couldn't find any that fit exactly. Nothing that I was completely familiar with at least. Nothing I was used to seeing or feeling.

After roughly a third done with the show—which included my fast forwarding through the commercials—there was a tap on the door. Aunt Stacy opened it slowly, poking her head through looking at each of us. Undoubtedly she noticed how each of us paired up and started making assumptions that caused her to be more ecstatic that I hoped.

"Edward, Alice, Emmett," she said each name with a lengthened pause. "It's time for you to go. Please come whenever you want."

I noticed Rose roll her eyes at her mother—I wasn't the only one who noticed what she was thinking. She whispered something into Emmett's ear when she left. He grinned and said something back that made her looked pleased.

Edward started to get up and follow his siblings out the door when he paused for a second and turned to me. "In the end, the brother does it. And then Angela and Hodgins find a weird image in the footage. See ya," he winked at me.

The Cullens left after that. Edward just nodded me goodbye and walked through the door like the rest of his family. I didn't think much of it and continued to watch the rest even though Edward had ruined it for me. I still wanted to watch it regardless.

I don't know when it happened. Maybe it was somewhere between the episodes of The Closer and Sex and The City, but I feel asleep. My dreams were dark, with those unnaturally black eyes, with hate in them. I couldn't scream in my dream as the man started at me with the knife. I looked at my mother's unmoving body with a pool of bright red surrounded her. I tried to scream like I always do, but nothing came out. Instead, I was frozen on the spot. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to feel. As the knife grew closer and closer to me, my eyes widened. I could see the reflection of my eyes in them. His evil smile twisted his face in a dark way making him look sinister, kind of like the joker, except much much more real.

The blade was about to graze my skin, when I jolted awake with that scream that needed to come out that six-odd years ago. I looked around in a panic. I was drenched in sweat, and my heart was thumping so loud I could feel it in my ears. I clutched the throw pillow in my hand. My breathing was ragged. I got up slowly, feeling my way through the dark as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

I walked into Jasper's room where he slept. I could hear his untroubled breathing that contrasted with mine. I laid in his bed. He must have felt the bed shift or something because he was awake at once.

"Bells?" his voice was hoarse. "Is that you?"

I sniffled.

"Bella, it was just a dream," he rubbed my back soothingly knowing exactly what had happened.

"But it happened, Jazz," the pain in my voice made Jasper wince.

"It was just a dream," he cooed once more.

And I cried. I cried for the first time in months. All of that pent up emotions that I've been unintentionally containing flooded out right then; all on Jasper's shirt as he rubbed my back comfortingly as he could. I cried about everything, about the things that had happened; about the things that just happened; the things that will happen. The things that were my fault; and the things that weren't. I cried for all the sadness, anger, jealousy, abandonment, loneliness, embarrassment, and stupidity. I cried for everything I needed to cry for, that I had yearned to cry for earlier. I finally could just let go.

"Jazz . . . it's all my fault," I said in between heavy sobs.

"No Bells," he wrapped his arms around me tightly. "It's not your fault. What he did was his choice. You had nothing to do with it."

"He said it was my fault," I tried to say, but the sound was lost in my hysteric cries. But Jazz must have understood.

"He's a fucking liar Bella," Jasper said with as much hate and spite for that man as I felt.

Jasper . . . he has always been there for me. The only person who was every truly there for me. He was my rock. My best friend. My only friend. My cousin. He was always there if I needed him, regardless of whatever it was. He would gladly drop anything to help me out no matter how insignificant. Like now. I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't for Jasper. He was the only person I could go to and just cry. The only person I feel completely safe with.

And laid there, in my cousins arms. He let me just lie there, ruining his clothes and sheets with my salty tears until I fell asleep into peaceful dreams; dreams that didn't contain that hateful man, but contained someone else. Someone worth dreaming of.

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Author's Note: A round of applause for SwanBella228! Yes, were right, Jazz is Bell's cuz. And I wana thank some super awesome people: book.babe15, VampireQueenSeleneArtemesia, Ragazza Di Vampiro, and therealBellaSwan-Cullen. You guys are awesome beyond words!