Picking up the Pieces

Chapter 4 – Intermission


Song: Cartel, "This is who we are"


Charlie's house was as nice as any, but it wasn't a home. I didn't know if I would ever have one of those again. I rinsed my plate after dinner and towel dried it before placing it gently back into the cupboard with the rest of Charlie's mismatched dinnerware. He never had a woman to tend to his needs, and matching place settings had fallen to the bottom of his list of concerns. I'm sure that I was higher up on the list, perhaps filling the vacancy that was the top of the list, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I wouldn't allow myself to get emotionally involved. At least, not more than I already was. Charlie had been there as I mourned the first couple of weeks I was awake in the hospital, silent, stoic, but ever present. I was thankful for his dedication, and would forever be in his debt for his loyalty to my needs.

I never allowed him to touch me, my mother had been the last one I remembered touching my skin directly. Her last act consumed my thoughts—I made it my goal to remember it eternally. I resolved to never let anyone else come near me in that manner—she would always be the last one to touch my face. I even went so far as to refuse Dr. Cullen take out my stitches himself. It was only a small cut near my hairline, but I was vehemently adamant. He was both patient and understanding, and even though he would have done a better, faster, and much less painful job, he allowed me to take them out myself with his careful instruction.

I ambled aimlessly into the living room where Charlie was watching television. I looked at the screen but nothing registered. It was all a blur of color. I grew bored quickly, and dismissed myself to prepare for bed.

I curled up in a ball against the wall in my room—thankful for at least some sort of presence in my sleep—even if it was only plaster and wood. I had cried myself to sleep every night since I had remembered the accident. My tears were also a twisted comfort. They were something I could count on returning, a dependable source of reprieve.

I tried not to allow my thoughts wander as I drifted off to sleep, but it was inevitable.

I didn't get to go to her funeral. I was thousands of miles away from where she was laid to rest. I had no source of solace, no comfort, no shelter from the storm that was determined to be my demise. It was unbearable. I felt everyday as though I could shatter into a thousand pieces. No, I felt like I had already done that, and that collecting every tiny bit of me would never happen.

I was broken.

I compared myself to a jar of ash; one that had been unceremoniously and swiftly knocked from its resting place, only to smash into oblivion. You could always put the jar back together, maybe even repaint it to cover the cracks, but no matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you swept the ash from the floor—you could never replace all that was lost. The jar, though physically repaired, would never be as full as it once was.

And with that… I feel into a fitful slumber.

I was awake when my alarm went off the next morning, but the sound of it made me jump.

I never allowed myself to sleep for long, out of fear of nightmares. I knew it would haunt me for the rest of my life, but I refused to allow it do so when it was beyond my control.

I got out of bed, brushed my teeth and showered out of habit alone, then went downstairs for breakfast.

"You excited for school today, Bella?" Charlie inquired.

I snapped my head up in surprise. We usually ate our meals in silence and his question caught me off guard.

"Wh-what?" I stammered.

"School, today, you… did you really not remember?"

No. Crap.

"Oh, I guess I just forgot, when does it start?"

"In about a half hour, so you'd better get going. I've got you all registered, you just need to stop by the front office to finish some paperwork."

"Oh, Okay." I furrowed my brow. I didn't want to go to school. I tried to avoid human contact, now I was placing myself right smack in the center of it.

Charlie sensed my unease. He called my bluff, "You sure you're ready for this, kid? We could always wait another week if you wanted…" he trailed off at the end, leaving it open ended for me.

"No, Charlie, I should go." I sighed. Maybe some contact with the outside world would help Charlie out. I didn't want to move forward, but I wasn't about to help Charlie back with me. I'd go for him.

Moving to Forks had never been my decision. But, seeing as I was still seventeen, I was left in Charlie's care. My mother had left me everything, the house, the car, the assets. It wasn't much, we lived on a kindergarten teacher's salary, but it was everything I had. I couldn't bring myself to go back to the house, I wanted to, but it didn't feel right. Being there without my Mom was wrong. I made Charlie pack my things for me while I waited in the rental car. He took as little time as possible, not wanting to leave me alone for long, and after boxing up my belongings, we came here.

Forks was an inconsequential town where it rained most of the time and there wasn't much sun. I was ok with this fact, the weather suited my mood just right. There might not have been a large amount of people here, but I knew that this only meant there was more than enough gossip. It always seems to travel a little faster in small towns where everyone knew everyone. I was not looking forward to hearing what everyone had to say about me. I spent most of my recuperation in the Forks Hospital's ICU, and I'd been holed up in Charlie's house ever since. I was positive that the entire population of Forks was waiting in avid anticipation of my first public appearance.

I only wished it didn't have to be at the high school.

I didn't fit in at my school at home, and I sure as hell wasn't about to fit in here. Who wants to be friends with the police chief's freaky daughter, anyways?

I finished my breakfast hastily and went back upstairs to finish getting dressed. I threw on my favorite pair of darkwash jeans and my favorite sweatshirt. I ran a brush through my hair once before drying it. It was a deep mahongany and fell to just beneath my shoulder blades. My hair was naturally straight and, in my opinion, rather bland. I threw on a light layer of mascara and some eyeliner, but left my skin alone. It was blemish-free and almost transluscent, but it was a nice cream color and easy to manage.

I sighed as I looked wistfully into the mirror. I wished I was prettier, like my mom.

Damnit, Bella.

Tears pooled in my eyes and fell down my face.

It's definitely going to be a long day...

I grabbed my favorite pair of light-brown sheep-skin boots in preparation for the chill of the day and gently tucked my jeans into them. I grabbed my bag from on top of my desk and my keys from where they hung on the hook on my wall. I headed to the kitchen, but Charlie was already off to work.

On the table was a note:

Bella,

Good luck today, give em' hell.

Call me at the station if you need me.

Charlie

I had to smile in spite of myself. I took a deep breath, headed out to the old tank of a truck Charlie had insisted on purchasing for me, and headed off to school.


A/N: For all you Edward fans out there, he's coming next chapter! I think I'll be telling the story from two different perspectives from now on, both Edward and Bella. I might be stuck in Bella's head a bit, but hopefully you like my writing just as much from Edward's perspective!

As always, please review with thoughts, complaints, suggestions for improvement, or just to say hi!

Thanks!