Rating: NC-17

Forewarning: This chapter may include graphic content which includes adult themes, concepts and language.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter One – The Beginning is the End

The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role... You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask.

~ Jim Morrison

B.P.O.V.

My eyes flutter open as I am shaken awake by the slight turbulence of the plane.

It takes me a few seconds to realize my surroundings. My head rests against the window; I glance over to peer at the outside world. It is night fall with the mist falling in the dreary weather.

The stewardess taps my shoulder to get my attention. I turn to face the tall, skinny blond with green eyes, "Miss, we should be landing in the next forty-five minutes so if you need anything else that we can accommodate you with, just let me know," she plasters a cheesy smile on her face.

I nod.

I turn back around as I rest my head on my hands leaning against the cold oval window. I close my eyes reminiscing about the events of the past seventy-two hours.

I had almost ended my life.

If it had not been for Brian probably forgetting to load the bullets in the gun, I would not be sitting here at this moment. The drugs have fucked him up so bad he doesn't know where or what anything is anymore.

I had squeezed the trigger and nothing happened. My heart thuds in my ears at the memory.

I hit rock bottom, the lowest of lows that one could possibly imagine. To think I would decide to take my own life for a man who left me years ago was absurd to anyone on the outside looking in.

I shiver from the coldness my body feels. It has been three days since I have taken any sort of drug. My body is starting to feel the effects of withdrawal. My stomach churns with pain and nausea.

I was not able to remember the last time I had even eaten or bathed before that dreadful night.
When the gun clicked and no bullet came out, my mind clicked into perspective. I don't want to die. I want to live and I want to see all the people I love and who love me. He isn't worth it, he will not win.

My eyelids fall heavy with sleep again. I have not rested like this in a long time. I would stay up almost five days at a time when I was on my drug binges.

The memory of that awful night replays in my dreams as I drift off to sleep once more...

I drop the gun and stand up quickly, gasping for air. I clutch my chest, sobbing hysterically I run to the bathroom; dropping to my knees, I vomit the acidic contents of my empty stomach into the toilet.

What the fuck am I doing? I can't kill myself over him. This is beyond breaking up with a boyfriend. I need help; I can't keep living this dead life anymore, mourning a loss that doesn't matter to anyone else but me. But it isn't worth taking my own life.

I stand as I grab onto the sides of the ceramic bowl to keep my balance. I have to get out of here. I wipe my eyes and face trying to get somewhat clean.

I stumble out of the bathroom into the dark room. Brian is still beyond gone. He can go fuck himself for dragging me into this mess. I am not going to be his whore anymore that takes the physical and emotional abuse.

My psyche is beyond damaged now, whether that has anything to do with what I had seen or heard earlier, I am not sure.

I grab my clothes that are strewn around the room and get dressed quickly. I want to get out of this place as soon as possible before Brian has a chance to wake up. He will probably be passed out for another twelve hours or so since he has been using longer during the night than I have. I can't risk him waking up while I try to escape.

I am still in somewhat of a haze from the earlier psychotic episode I had.

I look around for my shoes and throw them on haphazardly when I find them. I grab my bag and creep silently to the door, turning the knob to open it. I pray to the higher being that I will not make too much commotion. I slowly tiptoe out and close the door behind me, closing this chapter of hell in my life for good. The door softly clicks in place securing its hold.

I shuffle down the long corridor of rooms and reach the elevator, I frantically push the down button over and over. This fucking thing is taking too long, I run to the door that points to the stairs. I push the heavy metal door and reach for the railing, grabbing hold of it as I make my way down each step, never looking back.

Once I reach the bottom of the steps, I come to another metal door that leads to my freedom. I push it open with such force that it flings back all the way, hitting against the concrete building.

I have no idea where the hell I am going but I just know I have to get far away from here.

I run into the cool night air into the busy Miami streets. I have to keep my calm, I can't freak out in public otherwise I would be sent to an insane asylum.

I walk quickly down a sidewalk thinking of the path my life has taken. The concrete under my feet is smooth and sleek when I begin walking, the way my life started out in my earlier days as a teen. It slowly transforms into a cracked, uneven mess with the lines crooked everywhere, the ironic metaphor hits close to home. That is my life now.

At this moment I know what I have to do. I find the nearest payphone and dig into my bag for the coins the tattered, graffitied, metal telephone asks for. I only have a few dollars on me since Brian is the one who keeps the money. Luckily, I find some coins at the bottom of my bag.

I insert the coins quickly into the slot. I am anxious; I look all around me to assure I am not being followed. I punch in the number to the person I know I can go to at this moment.

The phone rings a few times before the sleepy voice answers.

"Hello?" the voice answers groggily.

I inhale and exhale heavily, not saying a word.

"Hello? Who is this?" the voice irritated now, they must have been on their tenth pleasant dream. I have no idea what those are like.

I am the one who called. I need to grow the balls to at least say something. I grip tighter the hard, plastic receiver in my sweaty, trembling palms.

"M-mom," I croak.

"Bella, Bella is that you?" her voice awake and anxious now.

The tears start to pool in my eyes blurring my vision. "Y-yes mom, i-it's me." I stutter.

"Oh honey! Where are you? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Oh god, please tell me you're okay!" she questions in a panic.

"I'm okay f-for n-now. I-I…." I blow out a breath. It is so hard asking for help. My pride doesn't want to allow me be to be helped.

The line is silent as I hear Renée's deep breaths flow through the receiver.

"I-I want to c-come home," I breathe out almost in relief.

I hear the silent sobs on the other end as my mother breaks down.

My tears stream down my cheeks, "I know I've messed up with us in the past year and….a-and I'm….so so sorry, mom."

I am ashamed of myself, ashamed at the person I have become.

"Oh Bella, you don't know how long I've been praying for you to come back. I didn't know how or where to find you after you left, all you left me was that address but every time I wrote to you, I never received any return mail from you," she crys.

I wipe my snotty nose with the back of my hand, "I know I messed up. P-please, let me come home, I need h-help….and, I c-can't do it on my own an-anymore."

"Of course, why wouldn't I want you back home? I want to help you get better. Where are you?" she sniffles.

"I-I'm s-still in Miami. I don't h-have any money for a c-cab. I don't want to wait until tomorrow or the next. I need to get out of here now, mom." The knots inside my stomach become tighter at the thought of never leaving this place. The void is still there. The hate for him still exists very vividly.

The pain starts to overflow again at the mere thought of him.

"Bella, call a cab and I'll pay for it when you get here," she states.

I do as she says. After dialing for the cab to pick me up at the convenience store I am at, I sit on the curb, wrapping my arms around myself, holding the little remnants that are left of me together before I completely fall apart again.

The drugs are starting to wear off as the emotions of the night's events plow me at full force. I rest my head in my hands as I sob endlessly, rocking back and forth. It feels like I am losing my mind, I can't shake the feelings of despair that consume me.

I am too young to lose my soul for someone that isn't worth it, for a creature that has no regard for human life.

The yellow taxi finally pulls up. I wipe my face and pick myself up with a strength I don't know I have. I walk over to open the door and climb in, shutting the door behind me. This is it now, this is the way it is suppose to end; not by ending my life but by leaving the old me behind to seek help for the new me I want to become; the better me.

I give the cabbie directions to head to Jacksonville, non-stop and he will get paid once we arrive.

I lay down in the back seat curling up in the fetal position wrapping my arms around my knees. I am only five hours away from my new life. I exhale a puff of breath. I close my eyes and yawn. I linger in the state of consciousness until my body can't hold on any longer, my eyes open and close until finally sleep has overcome the battle.

"Hey! Wake up, miss? We're here," my body shakes as I feel a hand push against my shoulder.

I awake in a daze. Had it all been a dream? I lift my head up and gaze out the car window. I see the home I long for. I sit up quickly as I realize it isn't all a bad dream but a reality that I escaped death from.

"Y-yeah, sorry," I repy in a scratchy voice. I rub my eyes before opening the door.

I tell the guy I will be right back as I exit the cab.

As I walk up the long drive way I glance up and see Renée and Charlie waiting by the front Marvin window. I am ecstatic to see both of them here, both of them willing to still help me.

They don't realize I have arrived yet.

I run up the porch steps and stand there for a moment. I came all this way and I had to get help. I have to pick up the pieces of my life. I can't depend on anyone doing it for me. This is something I have to learn to do on my own with professional help along with the help of my family. I will eventually be my old self, living a normal life. And that's what I yearn for.

I bring my left closed fist to the door. I hesitate for a moment; I wait, lowering my fist I slide my hands into my back pockets. What will I say? How will my mom and dad react when they see me? I probably changed drastically since the last time they both set eyes on me.

The door swings open quickly. Renée stands before me unmoving for a few seconds. It is as if she is looking at a ghost, not believing what is in front of her. The tears begin to well in her eyes as they trickled down her cheeks. My own tears form at the realization of how much I miss her.

I run into her arms clutching her tightly. She wraps her arms around me tight, never letting go, not wanting to lose me again.

"I've missed you," I whisper into her hair.

"Bella, I've missed you so, so much too. I was afraid you wouldn't come, that you'd change your mind at the last minute," she smoothes my hair with her hand; the gesture brings back the pleasant memories of my child hood.

I reluctantly release her tight hold. Charlie appears next to her and I pull him into a tight hug. I grew up living with my dad, even though I love both my parents immensely there is a bond I hold with him that is so strong.

My silent tears turn into sobbing as I clutch him tighter never wanting to let him go, ever. "I-I'm so, so sorry," I sob into his shoulder. "I-I l-love both o-of y-you so m-much," I stutter uncontrollably with my crying. He grips me tighter, my resolve is deteriorating, and I am emotionally drained.

I break down as Charlie has to hold me up from collapsing. My body trembles in his arms as the tears flow freely now. I am home. I have my family together. I finally see hope at the end of the tunnel.

"It's okay Bells, we're here for you now. You're family is here for you, shhh. It's all going to be alright" he whispers into my hair as he cradles me in his arms.

I doubted in there being a higher power but now, a higher power did seem to really exist. I thought my life was over and now, here I stand in my mother's house and in my father's arms.

Charlie lifts me up and carries me inside the house. I hear Renée's footsteps as she follows behind us. "Why don't you bring her into the living room, wait there for me while I go pay the taxi driver," She says to Charlie.

My face is buried in Charlie's shoulder as I grip my hands tightly around his neck. He sits down on the sofa quietly letting me empty out all the anguish I have held in.

I finally quiet down after a few moments and lift my head up. I sniffle as I peer into Charlie's eyes.
A small smile plays on his lips as his watery eyes shine with so much hope and love.
I nod as I half-smile at him. I sit fidgeting with the hem of my black hoodie sweater.

I glance at my surroundings; my eyes absorb the huge house I used to call home. Everything is exactly the same, nothing out of place; not one thing out of order.

The only thing that has changed is me.

I slowly lift myself to move next to Charlie. I glance around the living room walls; they are adorned with all the family photos. Those are the good memories I yearn for.

We sit in silence on the large brown leather sofa as we wait for Renée to return.

My head is pounding almost with a massive migraine; my stomach aches with sharp pangs of pain. I clutch my mid-section as the memories from a few months before I moved to Miami with Brian play in my head like a movie reel.

I don't want to think about that time in my life. That is something I am not ready to face being here now. I know Renée will bring it up; it is bound to come up in our conversation. She is worried and loves me after all.

I can escape thinking about those specific events in my life when I am under the influence of any type of illegal substance. Now that my body has burned off the drugs, it is hard to escape the past.

So many things I want to escape, so much pain I don't want to confront.

Renée brings me out of my internal conflict as she returns taking a seat across from us on the other sofa, wiping the visible tears from her eyes, "You must be hungry; did you want me to fix you something to eat?"

I stare down at my hands that rest on my lap now; the red, raw, jagged cuts on my knuckles are still clearly visible from the damage I inflicted on myself from the previous night.

I shake my head no in response to her question.

Renée glances down at my injured hand. "Bella, Oh my god! Look at your hand, what happened? You said you were okay?" She asks concerned as she moves next to me.

"Mom, I don't want to talk about it right now, later okay?" My voice is raspy from all the crying.

She sighs.

"Well, let me get the first aid kit ready at least. Would you like to get cleaned up and changed then? Your…stuff is still in your room….just as you left it."
I glance up at her, "Yes, I-I think a shower will help me right now." I am a jittery nervous wreck.

Renée nods in acknowledgment.

"H-how are you here dad? I mean, I-I j-just called last n-night," I question Charlie.

"Your mother called me immediately after you had called her. There wasn't any doubt that I wouldn't be here when you arrived. So Renée chartered a small private jet for me. Phil was kind enough to do so. I drove down to the Puyallup Airport from Forks and it took only about an hour for me to land at the Herlong Airport in Jacksonville. I rented a car and drove here to your mom's."

The tears begin to flow down my face again; my parents do love me and miss me, even Phil. They will do anything for me.

I gain composure of my crying, "Where is Phil?"

"He's away traveling for the baseball season. He knew you were coming because I called him too. He misses you so much Bella, he wanted to leave and come home but I told him Charlie and I would be here for you and he didn't need to come all the way home." Renée answers.

I nod silently.

"Come on, I'll walk you upstairs," Renée stands up and extends her hand to me. "After you get comfortable, we'll sit down and….catch up," Her voice hesitates with such sadness.

I clear my throat before answering, "Okay."

We ascend up the stairs hand-in-hand, comfortable; like as if nothing has changed or has been wrong in our relationship for the past year.

Charlie awaits downstairs.

We make our way down the hallway past the doors to the several rooms the house keeps until finally stopping at the door that I used to call my room.

It all seems so distant, like another life time.

Renée turns the knob and pushes the door open. The scent of vanilla and strawberry musk overwhelm my senses. I am astounded that I am still able to recognize my old familiar scent. I miss it.

She waves at me to follow her in. I reluctantly step one foot in front of the other entering the room.

I stand in the middle of the room as I gaze around the area of living space; inhaling and savoring the sweet warm aroma of home.

Renée isn't kidding when she says everything is as I had left it. Other than what she probably did to clean it up and make the bed, all my things are exactly in their place from the last time I was here.

Renée moves to stand next to me handing me a towel and clean clothes. I didn't realize she had gone to get the items from the closet, "Thanks." I give her a meek smile.

"I'll be downstairs when you're done."

"Yeah, okay."

She purses her lips and nods as she turns around to walk out of the room.

"Mom?" I say quickly. She stops in her tracks, turning slightly to face me. "I- um….thank you, again," I exhale.

A sorrowful smile rises on her lips before she walks out and closes the door behind her, leaving me to my own oppressiveness.

I stand there for a moment wondering if this is the right decision I have made; can I make it each day from now on without any dependency of drugs. Will I even be able to make it through the detoxification process?

I have been semi-sober for the past eight hours and I already feel like shit.

I groaned.
I have to get help, no matter what. This is the best decision I have made in the past two years.

I set my things on the bed, grabbing only my towel and walk into the bathroom.

The steam fills the room fogging the mirrors quickly after I turn the hot water on. I need the water hot in order for me to wash away all the un-cleanliness I feel, I thought scrubbing myself raw until my skin turns scarlet with the hot water would seep deeper into my pores to get the damage I have done to myself out.

I hope it isn't too late for me, I want to get better. I want to be my old self again.

The water droplets roll over my head and glide down my body, washing away the physical filth from me.
I can't remember when the last time is that I had a shower. There were times I didn't even know what day it was or even the month. All I knew was the sun gave way to light and the moon invited the darkness.

I close my eyes for a moment, resting my forehead against the tiled shower wall. My breathing becomes labored; the heaviness I now feel in my chest is making it difficult to breathe, I exhale and inhale deeply. I place my right palm against the wall to lean into it.

A vision flashes behind my closed eyes…

I stand in front of the white porcelain sink, peering down I watch the water tinged with blood flow down the drain. I glance back up at the reflection in the mirror, the girl I see is brutally beaten beyond recognition. The sanguine fluid runs down the side of her face from a head laceration. Her face is flushed crimson with perspiration, pinkish bruising shines around the eyes. The thick red fluid flows freely from her nose, over her grazed and swollen lips; seeping into her mouth mixing with her saliva.

Realization comes to me then, it is me.

I bring my fingers to touch my face, the stinging pain is everywhere; not only on my face but my body feels the pangs of bruising. My hands begin to shake as the tears come fast rolling down my face. I whimper in agony feeling the pain at full force now.

A loud rancorous bang hits the door. I turn around to hear the pounding get louder and harder. Where am I? Panic fills me at the moment.

"Open the fucking door now!" a deep male voice screams.

What is happening? Is this a dream?

"I said to open the fucking door now, Bella! I'm going to break it down if you don't open it in the next five fucking seconds!" The door knob jiggles as the person tries to open it.

I stand there terrified and confused. I shake my head frantically to bring me back to reality.

Nothing, I am still here.

My breathing increases as the banging turns into forceful thuds hitting against the door. He is trying to break the door down.

My crying turns into insuppressible wailing now.

The door swings open with a loud crack and bang hitting against the wall. Brian appears at the door. My arms instinctively wrap in a protective mode around my mid-section as my breathing becomes erratic.

"Didn't I tell you to open the fucking door? I didn't say you could walk away from me. I'm going to teach you a lesson so that next time, when I tell you to do something, you'll fucking do it, bitch!" He spits out viciously.

No. This isn't happening. This isn't real. I am not here. I am supposed to be in Jacksonville, in my mother's house.

I lean back against the sink, holding myself up with my hands as they rest on either side of it. My tears spill relentlessly.

Brian trudges towards my direction in a fury. He is angry; his hands are clenched at his sides into fists.

"Please….no…I-I'm s-sorry," I sob out.

He stands right in front of me, so close I can feel his breath on my face. Brian fists my hair in his hand, pulling it back hard. "Ahhh, p-please, stop!" I cry out.

"When I fucking tell you to stay put, you fucking stay put; I didn't say you could come into the bathroom. I was asking you a fucking question when you walked away from me," his eyes are menacing, evil. "Look at you, you're disgusting," he sneers. "You're nothing but a fucking whore. Whose is it? Huh? Answer me….fucking answer me!" he roars. "Who the fuck knows who else you've fucked, tell me now!"

I shake my head furiously; what is he asking me? What is whose? I have no idea what he was talking about. My brain can't comprehend what is going on.

The next thing I know I am gasping desperately for air. Brian has his hands around my throat, strangling me. I can feel him almost crushing my wind pipe. My hands rise quickly to grip each of his wrists to get him to stop. His body leans into mine; his vice grip will not release me.

I try fighting for a breath again, "Pl-please," I barely manage to wheeze out.

The tears stream down the sides of my face. This can't be the end, can it? No, I decided to get my life straight; to get out of this mess. This is just a dream I keep repeating to myself.

I bring my fisted hands to hit his arms with all my strength and my legs flail wildly trying to kick him.

The darkness starts to overtake my being; my eyelids are heavy as they begin to close.

I am dying. No, no, NO!

"I told you not to fuck around on me, what did I tell you if you ever tried to fuck me over? I'd fucking kill you. All you are is fucking cunt that likes to spread her legs for everyone," He whispers angrily into my ear.

Brian releases his constricted hold on me, I collapse onto the cold floor; gasping for oxygen my lungs so desperately beg for. I clutch my throat as I wheeze and cough out inhaling deep breaths.

I sob bringing my arms over my head to protect myself as I lay there. I cry out in agony, screaming for help, my sobs become shrieks as I tremble violently….

"Bella Bella, honey? It's okay, shhh. It's me baby, look at me. Please Bella." I hear a soothing female voice. I am on a cold wet floor crouched over; my screaming continues as I convulsively sob, my arms are still covering my head.

"Bella, it's alright; I'm here. Nothing's going to hurt you anymore." It is Renée; she has her arms wrapped around me. "Please look at me, I'm here for you, shhh," I hear her weep quietly. "Please Bella; let me help you….you're safe, you're here with me now," she whispers softly.

I have my eyes shut but I now realize I am still in the shower naked. I was not back in Miami with Brian. It was so real, so vivid though. It didn't feel like a dream. I know what I just experienced and it was not an illusion.

My crying decreases as I lay still, inhaling and exhaling deep breaths.

"I'm going to get you a towel, alright? I'll be right back. I'm not going to leave you," she gently removes her arms from my back. I shiver at the coldness that makes my skin turn into goose bumps.

My sniffles come in short spurts along with my heavy sighs.

The warmness envelopes me as Renée covers me with the towel. "Bella, can you get up?" She tenderly asks.

I can't move. I am frozen in place from shock and the terror I felt during whatever it is that I just went through.

"Shhh, it's alright. See, you're safe. No harm will come to you anymore," She rubs soothing circles on my back. "I'll stay here with you until you're ready to get up," she whispers.

The only sound in the room is my heavy breathing, my sobs finally subside. Renée holds onto me tight as she continues to calm me down, smoothing her hands over my damp hair.

I calm down enough to try and move, Renée pulls away from me. I sniffle, uncovering my head. I tilt my head to the right to see her through my hair that covers my face.

I shake my head no.

"Bella? No? No what honey?"

I can't speak. It is as if my voice has been removed from me. My sobs begin again, it was so real. I can't control anything. I can't decipher fantasy from reality anymore.

"I'm going to get your father to carry you to the room alright? You can't stay in here like this baby," she murmurs.

I hear footsteps coming in and out of the room. Another warmness envelopes me, "Bella, I covered you with a large blanket okay? Your dad's going to carry you to your bed so you can calm down and rest."

I whimper, I can't answer her. I lay curled up in a ball on the cold shower floor.

Suddenly a pair of large arms wraps around me and lifts me up without uncovering my naked form. I am placed on a soft plush bed. I curl my body into a ball and bury my face in the pillow; my hot tears trickle down my face.

The bed shifts a little with someone sitting on the side, "Sweetie, I'm going to make you some tea. It'll help with the next few days, alright? It's an herb named Valerian Root; I had Charlie buy it from the health store earlier today. It'll calm you down and help you sleep. I'll be right back, okay"

I barely manage to nod.

The bed shifts back to its normal state as Renée gets up and walks out to the hallway.

I hear faint whispers around me, "Charlie, I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay in Florida with everything that's happened the past two years; she isn't stable right now. She needs to go into rehab to detoxify her body from the drugs."

"I know she does Renée but do you honestly think it's a smart idea to have her go back to Forks? With what that Cullen kid did to her? That's what destroyed her in the first place. You know she's not going to want to go back there."

"I understand where you are coming from but I think we can convince her to go get some rehabilitation over there, Phil and I will pay for the best rehab facility money can buy…and I know it's not about the money but…you of all people know why she can't stay here, because of Brian."

Charlie sighs.

"Yeah, you are right. I just don't want to see her spiral down this deep hole again being back in Forks. Everyone misses her dearly though. I've missed her."

"Charlie, Bella isn't safe here if Brian is around. He knows where I live and I know where he'll come looking first, I can't risk putting her in harm's way again. I let her go the first time when she moved to Miami after I told her to stay with me, that I would take care of her no matter what she chose.

But I ultimately let her make the decision to leave and it killed her even more with what happened, more than what Edward did to her by leaving her. I know that wasn't something she could get over so easily, no woman can get through that without any moral support. And she still refuses to talk about it. I feel as if I failed her as a mother by allowing her to leave," Renée's soft cries erupt.

"Shhh, it's not your fault Renée. Don't beat yourself up for the past, what's happened can't be changed; as much as we wish it turned out different, there's nothing we can do about it now. Look, just calm down; get her the tea and let her rest. Once she's able to fully be alert and coherent, then we'll speak to her about the move to Forks, alright?"

"Okay," Renée ends the conversation with that.

Moving to Forks never crossed my mind once in the past year and a half I have been living in Florida. I don't want to go back because of him but hearing the conversation between my mother and father, my mom has a point; I can't stay here. I am in danger every minute I am here. Brian could come any time he wanted to. I don't want to go back with him; I don't want to go back to that violent lifestyle.

There is no way I will stay here.

There is a slight knock on the door. I shift around but not enough to look at who has come in.

"Bella, do you want to try and drink some tea? It'll help calm you and help with sleep as I said."

My body feels lethargic, I can't move like a normal person.

"Here, let me help you sit up," Renée sits beside me, brushing my hair out of my face with her fingers.

I open my eyes to see the woman who gave birth to me, sadness and sympathy paint her face.

I slowly pull myself up with all my strength, keeping the blanket wrapped around me, "There we go, you'll feel better in no time with some sleep," Renée states. I grab the mug from her as I sip the warm liquid.

I still struggle to find my voice but am able to whisper, "What did you say this is?"

"It's Valerian Root, I called my doctor and she said for…" Renée pauses but continues, "cocaine withdrawals… this will help until we're able to get you some professional help and on medication."

I clear my throat, "Oh, okay."

I finish gulping down the tea and fall into a deep slumber with no bad dreams; no worries from the past, no worries of the present and no worries for the future.

My eyes open watching the sun light dance across the walls of the room. I lay there for a few minutes. I haven't rested like this for a long while. I am still in Renée's home. It is all too hard to believe I am still here. I keep thinking to myself it is all a dream and I will awake in some shitty motel high as a kite.

I move around stretching my achy muscles. I sit up and see that my clean clothes are still sitting on the edge of the bed. I outstretch my arm from under the blanket and reach over to grab them.

I roll off the bed and lock the room door, I get dressed quickly. The house is too quiet and I don't like it.

I unlock the door and creep out into the hallway, walking down the long corridor I drag my fingers against the wall, gazing at all the photos staring back at me.

I make it to the top of the stairs; I hear voices echoing from the kitchen. I descend carefully since I am still in a bit of a foggy daze from the sleep.

I walk through the living room and dining area until I reach the archway of the kitchen. There at the table sat Renée and Charlie enjoying a conversation over breakfast and coffee.

I smile. I can't believe I have both my parents here with me. This is the happiest moment that I have had in the past two years. I am grateful to the higher power that exists for bringing us together once again as a family, even under these circumstances.

I clear my throat to announce my entrance.

"Oh Bella, honey you're up! How do you feel? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? Here why don't you come have a seat," Renée rushes her words out.

I slightly chuckle, "Mom, I'm fine. Thanks though. I can stand on my own and sit on my own as well. Don't worry," I wave her off and smile.

"I've missed your laugh and that beautiful smile," she says. For the first time in a long while I think I blush.

"Yeah well, um…I'm glad I got some sleep. I haven't slept that well in a while."

"You certainly did Bells, you slept the whole afternoon and night from yesterday and most of this morning; it's ten o'clock," Charlie informs me.

"I slept that long? Wow. I'm sorry," I rub the side of my arm.

"Nonsense, it's fine. You needed the rest and we're both happy you had some and that you feel better from yesterday," Renée smiles warmly.

"Did you want some breakfast? I can fix you some pancakes or eggs if you'd like?"

"No, I'm not hungry," I answer.

Renée furrows her brows, "Bella, you haven't eaten since you arrived. You need to at least eat a piece of fruit or a bagel."

I fidget with my fingers, "Fine, I'll have some fruit."

"Good. I'll cut you some strawberries and bananas."

Charlie speaks as Renée rises from her seat to the kitchen counter, bringing out a bowl and some utensils, "Bells, listen; your mother and I want to talk to you about something. We have agreed that it's best for you to come back with me to Forks. We've already arranged for you to stay as an inpatient at an addiction rehabilitation facility; it's a women's program you'll be in and it's the best the west coast has.

Now I don't want to hear any objections from you. The decision is final, just please try to understand why this is the best option for you instead of staying here. I don't know what happened to you in the shower yesterday but if you want to talk, we're here to listen. We don't like to bring up the past and we know you're not ready to discuss….certain things, we think by you getting this professional help; it'll help re-establish a normal life for you but you must let us help you. So your bags are packed and we'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon," he says with finality.

As much as I hate the notion of going back to Forks, I know this is probably the best option for me at the moment. I can't stay here. I don't want Brian to find me. He doesn't even know about my past life in Forks. He would not know where to start looking for me even if he tried.

I nod quietly in agreement.

Charlie's eyes almost bug out in surprise. "So…you agree with us?"

I sigh. "Yes dad. I'll go. I want to be as far away from Brian as I possibly can. I know this is the only way," I state with my arms crossed, staring at the marble floor.

"Well good, that was easy," He shrugs taking a sip of his coffee. Renée shakes her head in amusement.

I sit down at the table as I pick at the fruit that my mother placed in front of me. I mostly have extreme fatigue and stomach cramps associated with the cocaine withdrawal. I am also growing anxious and irritated by the minute for no apparent reason.

I know this is going to be a difficult road to recovery but I am willing to be helped now.

"Bells? Wake up hon. we've landed."

"Mmm?" I vaguely acknowledge the voice speaking to me that sounds so distant.

"Bells come on wake up, honey. We've landed in Port Angeles. It's time to get off the plane," I am shaken gently to come out of my deep unconsciousness.

I open my eyes to the bright light of the cabin, "Huh? What? Oh….," I awake rubbing my eyes to get the sleepiness out of them; my head is still resting against the oval window of the plane.

"Sorry dad," I say softly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'd let you sleep all night on this plane but I don't think the flight attendants would appreciate that," he chuckles.

I snicker. "Yeah, yeah; I know." I stretch as I stand up. I make my way out of the cramped row of seats into the walk way of the plane. Charlie grabs our bags from overhead before we shuffle out of the plane.

We walk through the airport and make our way out to the rental car parking lot. Charlie rented a car so it was ready and waiting for us.

I stand still for a moment outside; I inhale the sweet earthy scent of the fallen rain. I indulge in the aroma of the pine from the trees in the woods that surround us. My eyes absorb the stunning night sky filled with thousands of stars as the pale moon shines its marvelous bright light on us.

"Bells, you ready?" Charlie asks.

I nod looking back at him. I am ready, more than ever am I ready.

I am surrounded by the beautiful essence of home.