Okay. If you're wondering why you think you've read this, it's because you have. I mistakenly, posted chapter three as a replacement for this chapter and chapter three disappeared. but its all fixed.
Now. If you haven't read, keep going and enjoy :D
Time was going by too fast, I think. Sure, it had only been three weeks, but it still went by in a blink of an eye.
Emily, that horrid bitch, made me get knocked down a level, because of misconduct and insubordination. But she was shipped off to a different house, so I didn't have to put up with her mouthing off to me. I was pissed off though, because now, I was back at level one. And being a level one meant solitary. Again. I hated solitary.
Before, I only saw people during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then during group and assemblies. And now, I could only go to my therapist sessions. I ate in my room, alone, and it drove me crazy because they wouldn't let me sleep during the day while I was bored out of my mind, and I had to leave my door open so they could check on me every so often. "Often" being the operative word. They never left me alone and I hated that so much.
I never thought I would want a cut any more than right now.
It had been two months since I'd seen the perfect, inviting shine of sharp blade. But I wasn't going to be picky. Anything would do right now. Anything that would give me a little slice of pain, so that I knew I wasn't going crazy . . .
I looked around the room for anything. Anything that would give me a little secret satisfaction. I didn't care about the consequences; I was already hopped up on enough meds to overdose a horse. They'd just put me in a fluffy white room in a straight jacket. I could deal.
I opened my drawers, flipped the mattress, looked through my closet, until I ran my fingers through my hair and the strands snagged in my earring.
BINGO.
I looked towards the door, making sure everything was quiet and the coast was clear before I did anything that would get me in trouble.
I took out my earring, and then I touched the end of it to my finger, biting my lip. It wouldn't work, and I was disappointed.
"Isabella, it's time for your session," Victoria said to me from my doorway. She was the one that knocked me down a whole level, and because of that, I hated her so much. Because I hadn't seen Edward in a little more than three weeks. At all. Surely he was like a level five or something, on his way out of this godforsaken place. I stood up, fixing my tight long sleeved shirt and my velveteen track pants. Everything I was wearing was from Alice Cullen. Everything. And I loved that.
Around the house, since we were only on one floor, they didn't trust us to wear shoes (I wasn't sure why), so all we wore were socks. And the tiled floor was kind of freezing. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my shoulders. I figured out a few things while I was in Solitary.
Everyone here was wealthy of some sort. I knew Edward was, but all of the other kids had last names that were recognizable in some way. You had people like Clearwater, Leah's Dad was the head of a music label in New York, and then you had Newton, Mike's dad, who was a famous race car driver.
These people had problems, but their parents just dropped them off like it was nothing. Just so they didn't have to deal with them themselves. Wow, what loser parents I had. The closest thing I had to a mom was Eleanor, my nanny from a long time ago. I think if I would have left to live with my dad rather than with my mom, things would have turned out better.
It just hurt that Edward noticed all my scars at first, but it took my family a clear epidemic to finally notice.
Daddy, you were right.
My dad was a good person. He really was. He was the sheriff of a town Washington called Forks, but he didn't stop here. Somehow, he was also sheriff of a county in Seattle, King County. It was crazy how humble he was though. He made a lot of good money, but he still had his little two story house, with mine and Jasper's bedrooms how we'd left them after we left with our mother after the divorce.
I hadn't talked to him in a while. And I was feeling really bad about that.
I sighed, and Victoria looked back at me.
"What's your problem?"
"Nothing, your highness," I said smartly. She narrowed her eyes at me. She grabbed my wrist with her nasty bony fingers. But her grip was strong.
"Keep it up, and you'll never see your little boyfriend," she growled. "Not like he wants to see you anyway."
Oh, so she wanted to threaten me.
Well, two people can play at that game.
"I may be young, but I know enough people who can put your ass in prison for hurting me. Assault and battery? On a governor's daughter? Do you really want to go there?" I said to her. I raised my eyebrows and glared at her. "That's dangerous territory you're heading for."
"Do you forget where you are you little bitch?" she asked me in a harsh whisper.
"No, I don't. But if you don't let go of me, your face is going to land in that wall," I threatened her.
She let go of me and walked away. I was in front of my therapist's office, so I wasn't able to really go anywhere, but I just stood there looking at the door. I didn't want this. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be able to dance and sing at the top of my lungs and go to school and read in the grass. I wanted to hang out with friends and be lost in infatuation with boys. I wanted to be in my familiar bedroom and have fun and just live, you know?
And I was regretting not cutting deep enough.
But, for now . . .
I stepped into my therapist's office.
"Isabella," he said. "Come in," he said.
I did, and I sat on the black leather couch, curling my legs underneath my body, crossing my arms over my chest.
"How has your day gone?" he asked.
"Same as yesterday," I said flatly. "Super!" My voice was false, of course.
"What have you been thinking about lately?" he asked. He was looking down at his paper, jotting down some notes. I sighed.
"I've just been thinking about living. How good it feels to be alive. I really think it was stupid of me to have tried to commit suicide. But I'm working past it. I want to see my family. I know I said that I hated them, but I miss them."
Lying came naturally to me, I guess. I only never lied to one person, and that was because I couldn't look in to his crazy amazing green eyes and let him believe something about me that wasn't true. But I had to lie to my therapist, or else I wouldn't ever get out of this place fast enough.
"So you're doing well then? I'm glad to hear that Isabella. You look like you've gained some weight; healthier these days," he said.
"Thanks," I said. "I've been eating." And I've been rejecting my vitamins and depression pills, my uppers and downers, possibly saving them for an overdose.
"That's good. The nurses have been saying that you're doing really well in solitary. No backtalk or attitude towards them. I'm proud of you."
I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
"Since I've been seeing some improvement in you, I promote you to level two. But you need to keep it up. If I see any sign of insubordination I will demote you back to a level one. Since it's already late in the day, you'll start tomorrow as a level two." He paused for a second, writing something, and then he said, "How have you been sleeping lately? Any troubles?"
"Okay I guess. Not really. I mean, I stay up late during the nights, can't sleep. My brain feels like it's wired on something, everything goes too fast. "
"Okay, well then I'm going to get you some sleeping pills then, so you can get some sleep at night." He scribbled onto a piece of paper and then he shoved it away into his files.
We talked a little while, and I pretended to get happier and happier, smiling more, and laughing, pretending to be okay, even if I really wasn't. But he didn't know that, and that was the point. The faster I got out of there the better off I was.
EPOV
It'd been a while since I'd seen Bella. Don't know how long, since they shut us off from anything to the outside world, (couldn't even tell us the freaking date) but I knew it was a long time, at least a month.
I kept thinking that maybe she had been taken out transferred to another house or department, and just couldn't tell me. I mean obviously, she would have some way to contact me eventually if that were the case since my mother and her mother were good friends.
When it was time for breakfast, Angela came down and took me to the cafeteria, and I ate breakfast in our usually spot, just alone. Alone without Bella. It wasn't fun, just kind of monotonous and tedious. An everyday kind of thing.
I sighed and put my tray on the conveyor belt to the kitchen and walked to my therapist's office.
"Hello Edward," Dr. Mansfield said to me. "Have a seat."
I did, running a hand through my hair.
"Something troubling you?" he asked.
"Not really. I'm just—I can't sleep at night so I'm tired," I said to him.
Not lying, just embellishing the truth.
"Okay, well, I can't give you any prescriptions. We'll just have to monitor your sleep. Because of your history with medications, you know." He looked down at his paper and scribbled some notes. It felt like he was belittling me because of my method chosen for suicide. "Are you having any other problems?" he asked?
I felt guilty for thinking about Bella. So I had a little problem late at night with erections and wet dreams. It was like I was twelve getting off on online porn. But I couldn't help it. They way she touched me . . . the way she smelled, the way she smiled . . . turned my sleepless nights into dirty fantasies and masturbating.
"No," I lied. I didn't want to add that to my long list of problems.
Not only is he a suicidal freak, he's also a pervert.
"Okay well how have you been doing generally? What are your thoughts?" Dr. M asked.
"Okay, well I guess I haven't been thinking about a whole bunch of things. Just bored out of my mind. Wish I could go take some pictures or something," I said.
"Is that what you want to be? A photographer?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Yes. Maybe a musician I don't know. Depends on if I ever get out of here. I mean I really can't build a portfolio in a place like this can I?" I said to him. He looked at me blankly.
"No, I guess not. But you're doing very well Edward, and I'm going to promote you to the next level. Three."
I smiled. "Does that mean I'm getting out of here faster? Getting better?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You only have three levels to go now," he was like genuinely happy for me. And I was happy for me too.
After dinner, I went to group.
"So today we're going to talk about healing," the doctor said. "Has anyone ever broken a bone?" he asked.
Several people raised their hands.
"Okay, how about you share?" he pointed to a girl who nodded.
"Well, I was having sex with my boyfriend on the stairs—"
"Can we keep the story G rated?" the doctor said. I smiled.
"Sure. It's not like I was going to talk about he grabbed my tits and fucked me hard," she said.
Everyone laughed and she smiled content. The doctor looked annoyed.
I rolled my eyes. Needless to say, that therapy session didn't go so well. And I was happy when it was over. I didn't feel like watching television, but I did anyway. It was on a channel where the news was playing, and Bella's picture was splayed over the screen.
"High school teen is missed. After three and a half months in a rehabilitation center, her brother, Emmett Swan, talks about his younger sister during his interview with Cosmopolitan Magazine," the new caster said. It switched to a clip of a burly man, really big and muscular, sitting next to an overly made up woman with over-done hair.
"I haven't seen her in a while, but I hope she gets better," he said. I scoffed.
"Yeah, right." I said to myself.
"Yeah, she's, like, the sweetest girl. We used to go, like, shopping all the time, but she stopped wanting to go and got all, like, loner on us. She was always, like, my favorite sister in law." The woman sitting next to Bella's brother looked accomplished. I wanted to choke her a little bit.
I stared at the television, disgusted. I went to my room.
I lay on my bed, after closing the door, staring up at the ceiling. I fell asleep, but I woke up thinking about Bella again.
That was pretty much the extent of the dreams. Nothing too extravagant, nothing to demeaning. Just a regular horny-boy fantasy. But it always ended up the same: cum on my thighs and guilt on my shoulders. If I got anymore guilt I was going to be a crippled bastard.
After I cleaned up a little bit, I grabbed my towel to take a shower, but there was a knock on the door.
"Edward?"
"Yeah?"
"There's someone here to see you," Victoria said, opening the door.
"Who is it?"
"Ms. Dwyer?"
"What?" My brain was boggled, and for some reason I got dizzy. Why would Bella's mother want to see me?
I followed Victoria out to where Renee Dwyer was seated at a table, politely sipping from a mug.
I sat in front of her.
"Hello, Edward," she said.
"Renee," I said.
"How are you?"
"What are you doing here?" I asked her blankly. "Shouldn't you be seeing your daughter instead?"
"So I hear you've made friends with her?" she asked me, completely ignoring my questions.
"Well, yes." I looked at her cautiously, but she just smiled.
"Ah, I see. Well, I was just stopping by to see how you were doing. You were always like a son to me you know," she said.
I scoffed. "You don't even know me. You don't know anything about me." I leaned back in my seat, staring right into her black beady eyes.
"That's beside the point," she declared firmly. "I wanted—"
"You know, you should try talking to Bella. Maybe she wouldn't resent having you as a mother so much."
"My daughter does not hate me as a mother!" she said to me harshly.
"No, you're right. She hates you."
"Edward, that's enough," she snapped.
"Why?" I pressed. "Because it's true? What, do you hate the truth?"
"Edward Anthony Cullen! I said enough." She looked up at me with menacing eyes. I'd never fully understood why Bella was so much the way she was. But just looking into Renee's eyes, it was completely clear. Very clear. And it was scary. "Let's get this clear young man. I don't want you near my daughter. At all. I've been hearing from the staff that you've been trying to shack up with her, and that is completely intolerable. I won't have it, so you better find another girl to use. Isabella needs to get better. And you're not helping her. How can a boy who has worse problems help her?"
Ow.
But who was she to tell me all of this?
"And if I don't?"
"Try it and find out." She stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me fuming. But I could only shake it off.
I went to breakfast, filling my tray with an assortment of foods. As I walked to my table, there was another person sitting there. She had her feet curled underneath her body, picking at his breakfast tray with a disgusted look on her face, reading what looked to be a magazine. She was wearing reading glasses . . . made her look so much hotter than I remembered.
When I sat down beside her, she smiled. Nothing overly huge but more of a satisfied and sweet smile.
"Hello," she said. She pushed her glasses up her nose and giggled.
"Hello."
And then she leaned over to hug me. And it made me confused. I wasn't sure why. But then I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her to me.
"Break it up you two!" An orderly shouted from across the room. Bella sighed. And like that, we were back in motion.
BPOV
He was so warm. I missed him.
"Your mom came to see me today," he said casually.
I dropped my fork reflexively, and turned my body to look at him.
"What?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He looked at me with luscious green eyes, and I backed off my anger a little bit. But it wasn't by much.
"She came to tell me that she didn't want me around you," he voice was indifferent, and my heart beat a little quicker, a little afraid.
"And are you going to listen to her?" I asked.
"Of course not. Are you crazy? No," he said. I smiled and felt a little embarrassed for being so insecure. He smiled at me back. We ate in some silence, talking only a little bit.
We made up for it later in the rec room while we sat on the carpet and played card games.
"So do you think you're doing better?" he asked.
"No. Locked up in my room just made it worse. I tried like hell to find something I could use to cut myself. But then I couldn't find anything and that drove me even crazier." I slapped down another card, a three of hearts, and he took it, and placed a different card in its place, an ace of spades.
"Bella, I thought you said you were getting better?" he said. He just looked at me, not like he was judging me, but more like he was disappointed in me. And I think that was worse. I cleared my throat.
"I am Ed. I promise." I gave him an innocent grin.
He laughed. "You called me Ed."
"Oops. Sorry, I forgot-"
"It's okay Bella. I sort of like it." He laughed and I took a deep breath.
"I'm tired. I hate that I can't sleep when there's nothing else to do." I leaned back on my arms and tossed my cards in the pile in the center. "I wish my mother came to see me. That sick bastard."
Edward laughed. "Yeah. She's not the best. And I can say the same thing for mine."
"I hope I stay here until after I'm eighteen, so I can finish high school, and then run far away, to, like, Europe or something, and just start over. Change my name to something like . . . Mallory Woods, and become a completely different person. Live in Spain by the beach, where I can swim all day and then have dinner by moonlight. I won't have to have a job, because I'll marry someone rich and famous and they'll love me and take care of me." I chuckled. "Too big of a dream?"
"No way. But don't you want to be a dancer?"
I shrugged. "I don't know what I want any more." I gave him a half hearted smile.
And it felt as if the world was giving us some catch up time. Because it was Sunday, we didn't have group sessions, and Dr. Mansfield wasn't coming today, so all therapy sessions were canceled.
"God, I miss the Internet!" I said.
"Why?" Edward asked.
"I love shopping on line. And photo-shopping pictures, and listening to music and watching videos and reading articles and blogging . . . my entire life was there." I sighed, but smiled.
"You're crazy."
"Sure, whatever. But you still like me, so shut it."
He laughed and we went back to watching TV. Holding hands a little. But something struck a nerve in me, and I couldn't handle it. For a moment, everything just crumbled from underneath me, leaving me on a narrow runway that could only lead from better to worse. There wad no middle, and there was no safety.
All I could see was darkness and hate, infidelity and death. And it all seemed so rational. I needed to do it again, and I was going to.
Just when the time seemed right you know.
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