Lying in bed I stared at the ceiling tiles, and when that got boring I would focus on the cracked paint in the corners of the room. A big picture of a sunflower hung on the wall—no doubt to improve patient moral, and the TV was on mute, playing some baseball game—most likely Uncle Charlie's doing.

It's been three days since I woke up in the hospital. Three days of around the clock medicine, a heavy downpour of rain, a revolving door of nurses, and my Uncle Charlie—who hasn't left my side. He would either sleep in the chair beside me or on the beat up couch that sat in the other side of the room, with a big tear in the upholstery.

He held my hand when the doctor and police officer came in—a few hours after I had woken up, and asked me what I last remembered.

I remembered my dad, as he shooed us away, with his trademark smirk. I remembered watching the sunset with Ana and the haunted look on her face.

And that's when a wall would stop me from going any further.

It was like a hazy cloud of impenetrable repulsion, blocking out the rest of the night. Every time I would make myself try to break through it, I ended up with Uncle Charlie wetting my face with a rag as I gagged into a plastic basin, and the doctor kicking up my pain medicine.

They tried to be gentle as they told me that my father was dead. But nothing could have prepared me for that—not their looks of pity or the soft voices they used to tell me he was gone.

That the people I considered family were gone. That my best friend, Ana was missing.

They said it was an animal attack, and then they proceeded to inform me that two hikers found me at the bottom of a hill, and called for help.

The doctor said I was lucky. I could only stare at him blankly; I couldn't muster up the will to say, anything. He said, I sustained a few injuries during my fall, like a concussion, some fractured ribs, and other bruises and scrapes. And then he reminded me again that I was lucky, that it could have been much worse, and that the worst part for me was the six weeks for my ribs to heal.

He was wrong. The worst part was the grief . . . the loss, and that would last a lifetime. At first I was in denial, but that only lasted mere moments before something much deeper told me that my dad and his smirk were only alive in my memories.

My heart told me . . . that he was gone.

I was overwhelmed with my feelings of loss. The need to cry many times led me to feel anger at the unfairness of losing my dad. I fought my desire to tear the world apart as payment for taking my him, for taking my family away from me. Every time I sobbed into my pillow the pain in my ribs would flare to such high proportions, I would lose my breath and scream, silent screams of anguish.

But Uncle Charlie never left my side; he never let me feel like I was alone.

The rest of my stay was a blur of emotions with feelings of pain and the spilling of tears.

Uncle Charlie told me that today was Friday and that I was finally cleared to go home. He was going to sign my discharge papers and getting some final instructions from the doctor and nurses about my after care. I was going back with him to Forks and my new physician would be Dr. Cullen.

Slowly easing myself up, I took a deep breath before edging my legs over the bed. Squeezing my eyes shut against the pain, I heard my door open and light steps walked towards me. I looked up to see Bella standing before me as Uncle Charlie pushed a wheelchair into my room. I could tell that Bella was trying to conceal her emotions but she's the type of person who wears her heart on her sleeve—I sensed her pain, grief, and guilt.

Breathing out she asked, "Are you ready?"

The nurse had already helped me change into a pair of gray sweats, a plain white t-shirt and flip flops, so I was as ready as I'd ever be.

Nodding my head, Uncle Charlie was quick to walk around the bed so he could help me into the wheelchair.

"Come on, kiddo. Take a deep breath and on the count of three, I need you to push up using your arms, not your stomach."

Well, someone was taking notes from the doctor.

"One . . .two . . .three. Push."

Gritting my teeth I pushed with my arms and got my butt off the bed. Uncle Charlie pretty much did the rest. Settling down in the wheelchair I looked around the room one more time. I hoped to never see this room again, and as he wheeled me out—I decided that I officially hated sunflowers.

The ride back to Forks was—quiet.

Bella sat in the back of the police cruiser staring at her hands and Uncle Charlie was keeping his head up with his left hand, as he steered the car. I just leaned my head against the window, numb, as I watched the forest race by.

Before I knew it we were pulling up to Uncle Charlie's house.

I just stared at the house for a few minutes, realizing that this was my new home. Tears filled my eyes as I swallowed down the lump in my throat at the thought, and I quickly blinked them back before anyone saw. I opened the door and slowly lifted one leg at a time out of the car, so I would not hurt my ribs—anymore than my breathing already did. Uncle Charlie jogged over to the passenger side to finish helping me out of the car.

Bella was standing there, waiting to see if her help would be required, but her dad just handed her the house keys before turning his attention back to me. With his help I walked up the stairs to the porch, gripping his hand harder then necessary as we reached the top. I was breathless and a little lightheaded as we entered the house.

"Okay, Lils your going to sleep in my room . . . until we pack . . .well until we get your stuff settled into the other room across from Bella's," he stated.

"Umm yeah—that's okay. Where are you going to sleep?" I asked.

"I'll hit the couch. And before you say anything, let me tell you, I'm the winner out of this—that couch is more comfortable than the bed."

His attempt at using humor to cover the lie was noble, but ineffective. However, I was too tired to fight him on it, so with a nod we headed towards the stairs.

Looking up, they looked a million miles high; sensing my dread Uncle Charlie put my arm around his shoulder and gently lifted me off the ground with his arm under my knees. His grip was firm and with a determined look, he carried me up the stairs.

"I got you kiddo. I won't drop ya."

With a sniffle, I laid my head against his chest and, for one moment, imagined it was my dad. I couldn't swallow the tears back this time, and they fell slowly down my face—wetting his shirt.

He carefully put me on his bed and pulled a soft blanket over me.

Moving the hair from my face, he frowned as he stared at the bruises covering my skin and the tears staining my face. "I love you, Lils." He choked out.

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, he continued, "I'll be here if you need me . . . And, uh, I'll bring you up your phone. It will come in handy if you need me or Bells to bring you something." He trailed off.

"Thanks, Uncle Charlie," I whispered, and attempted a smile that I'm sure came off more as a grimace.

Patting my hand, he left to finish getting things out of the car.

I started staring at his ceiling and zoned out as I followed imagined shapes in the designs that the brush left behind. I jumped slightly as I saw Bella looming beside me; I was helpless to the wince as pain flashed across my ribs. Bella was quick to apologize for startling me.

"Crap, I'm so sorry," she rushed out, then biting her lip.

"It's fine, Bells."

Closing my eyes, I tried to composed myself.

Finally I looked back at her, she sat on the edge of the bed and then grabbed my hand. A few moments passed, neither of us saying anything—until I couldn't stand the silence—not with someone in the room right next to me.

"Bella . . . I want to be alone. For right now I want to be alone."

She nodded her head in understanding as she let my hand go and stood up. Putting her hands in her back pockets, she stared at her feet.

"I am sorry, Lils."

Using her hair as a curtain, she started to cry. Wiping her face, she walked out of the room and quietly shut the door behind her.

I closed my eyes as silent tears fell again. Squeezing my eyes closed, I kept repeating the same words over and over again in my head, and oddly they brought me comfort.

Breathe—just breathe. Just keep breathing.

I didn't realize I had fallen asleep, but the faint sounds of voices woke me. Blinking my eyes warily, I carefully eased myself up and out of bed. I was tired of just lying in bed; I made my way towards the stairs, and took them one step at a time. Reaching the bottom, the voices became louder—shuffling into the kitchen I saw Bella, Uncle Charlie, and Alice Cullen sitting around the kitchen table.

"Hello, Lily," the doll like creature said as she danced from her chair until she stood in front of me.

"Hey, Alice," I wrapped my arms around my middle.

She smiled a tight-lipped smile—not trying to hide her sadness from me as she took a quick glance at my obvious injuries, but mid scan Alice stopped and tilted her head to the side, getting a very far off stare. I quickly darted my eyes at Bella and couldn't stop my eyebrow from arching in question. Bella moved over to her.

"Alice . . .?" Bella asked.

Just as quickly the shadow lifted from Alice's eyes.

"I should be going, I'll see you tonight Bella," then her golden gaze fell on me again. "Lily, I'll be seeing you soon."

And with that cryptic promise she gave Uncle Charlie a sweet smile and waved before she breezed out the room.

Running her hand through her hair Bella let out a light sigh and just shrugged her shoulders—but she gave Alice's exit a troubled look before heading over to the counter to open a Tupperware container. I headed over to the table, and sat across from Uncle Charlie.

"How are you feeling?" he probed. "You need your next dose of meds. Alice brought over some food that Esme made for us. You can take your pain meds after eating."

I just nodded, as I leaned my head into my palm. Uncle Charlie got up and grabbed a blue gel pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a dishtowel. Handing it to me, to put on my ribs, "Twenty minutes, Lils. I'll be back in a few."

Once he left the room, the only sound heard was Bella putting what looked like lasagna onto three plates. Walking over to the table she set a plate down in front of me, before getting her own and Charlie's.

Sitting down, "I'm going to stay at Alice's place tonight so you can sleep in my bed and Charlie can sleep in his."

Twirling the food around my fork, I looked up at her; she looked just as tired as Charlie.

"I'm sorry, Bells," I said, taking a deep breath. "I don't mean to put you out of your own bed."

"No, its nothing to do with that . . . it's fine. Are you going with Charlie to La Push?"

Shrugging, I swallowed a bite of Esme's lasagna. It was actually really good.

"I was planning on just vegetating here, and I don't feel like going anywhere—or being around people."

"Lily, I can't come back tomorrow and I think Charlie needs to get out—um I would feel better if you went with him. Even if it's just to sleep on Billy's couch for a few hours. That way he isn't stressed, and it might be good if you both get a change of scenery . . ."

Looking at her, she was staring down at her plate, and causally glanced at me before peeking back down at her plate.

"I'll think about it."

I went back to eating my food, while I contemplated why she wanted me to go with Uncle Charlie tomorrow. I'm tired of secrets.

Red eyes stared at me in the dark . . . red, red—my eyes flew open as I jerked awake, sucking in air. I started panicking as the nightmare, even awake wouldn't lose its hold on me, and it felt so real—the terror and pain, so much pain. Gripping my side, as my ribs protested my harsh breathing—no the pain was definitely real. Taking slow deep breaths, I tried to calm my rapid heartbeat and wiped the sweat from my face.

Looking over at the clock it was 7:41 a.m.—knowing I wasn't going to fall back asleep I decided on just getting up. After I detangled myself from the sheets, I grabbed a change of clothes and toiletries, and headed for the bathroom.

Leaning my arms against the wall, I let the freezing cold water wash over me. This was the most alive I've felt since I woke up in the hospital—and I only moved to get out when my fingers pruned, and when I could hear Uncle Charlie moving around in the hallway.

I was nibbling some toast when Uncle Charlie came downstairs, also freshly showered.

"Morning, how did you sleep last night?" he questioned, as he started some coffee and snagged some of the toast I made him.

"It was okay, better now that I'm out of the hospital."

"How would you feel about going to the reservation today? You don't have to if you don't want to—I'm sure we can figure out something to do here . . ."

"It's cool Uncle Charlie, but I want to stay. You should go; I can handle being by myself for a few hours. I think I need that and you need some time for yourself," I said. Offering him a rare smile.

"Lily, I don't think it's a good idea—leaving you . . ." he trailed off.

"It's going to be okay. I promise," I attempted to reassure him.

With a sigh he gave me a long hard look and nodded. "Okay, but only for a few hours. And you call me the minute you need me—I'll leave Billy Black's phone number by the phone, just in case."

"Yeah, I'll call you if I need you. But don't tell Bella that I stayed—I don't want her freaking out and going all mother hen on me."

He nodded and gave a humorless laugh as we both went back to our meager breakfasts.

I was lounging on the couch mindlessly watching T.V. feeling the cold breeze of the wonderful Forks weather blowing in through the open window—when something zoomed into the room.

Getting up I cautiously looked around the couch, only to find a rock? But this rock had a paper attached, tied with a rubber band—tightly wrapped around it. I glanced out into the yard, but no one was there, cautiously picking up the rock, I moved to the window—shutting and locking it.

Backing away I headed towards the phone in the kitchen. I ripped off the band and unfolded the note. With shaking hands I lost my breath as I read the familiar handwriting—biting my lip to keep from crying, I slid down the wall.

Lily, follow the trail into the forest behind the house.

Keep walking, I'll find you.

Trust me. Tell no one.

-Ana

Mandatory disclaimer: Everything in the Twilight Universe—Twilight, and its characters belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Similarities to the original characters or themes from the movies and/or books are used on here for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made. No infringement intended.

All I claim is the made up OC, Lillian (Lily/Lils).

A/N:

I know this has a slow start, but I really wanted to weave Lily into the storyline first. I have already written the imprint scene and trust me it's coming. And a heads up this story is rated-M, for later themes.

Reviews are appreciated to let me know what you guys think! Thanks for reading!