I thought I'd post this for you guys in between my endless revision! I had a really good response to the last chapter, so please keep it up! This time is pretty stressful for me (and I know A levels are so much worse!) but writing this really gives me a break from that and I can enjoy the time that I write. So yeah, review, basically :) They're so good to read!

I hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

"Bella, honey," the voice cooed as it gently shook me awake. My hands shot to cover my eyes as I opened them, overwhelmed by the brightness of the room. The curtains were open and the sun shone through strongly, which was quite a shock considering we were still in Seattle. "It's eleven o'clock. You need to wake up."

That surprised me more. Eleven o'clock? I'd slept way longer than I thought, despite the fact I'd woken in the night shaking, albeit silently. Eleven o'clock was the longest I'd slept in until for ages... longer than I could remember!

"Eleven?" I asked hoarsely, my voice evidence to my quiet night.

The fact that I was speaking less and less was clear, and the sound of my words shocked me a little. At home, Charlie was there to make small talk with; although that was infrequent, we still did. And the school day encouraged me to speak, whether it be ordering my food from the cafeteria or making up excuses for why I couldn't go out with my friends over the weekend. My life seemed to be pretty silent now.

"Yes, honey. Now, I'm going to bring you some breakfast, and then Dr. Geller wants to see you straight after. You slept over your original appointment," she smiled kindly, standing up and straightening her name tag.

"Oh."

"Don't worry. She was just pleased you're sleeping, but there is a line to draw," Heather chuckled to herself, scuttling out of the room humming an unfamiliar song.

Groaning, I pulled myself up and off the bed with the greatest effort, my mouth dry, wincing at the coldness of the floor on my bare feet. My pyjamas wrapped around me, but I quickly substituted them for the same jeans I wore yesterday although I chose a different shirt; I would shower later.

When Heather returned to me dress and brushing my hair, she smiled kindly as she handed me a plate of toast with strawberry jam. But the food still didn't appeal to me, although my stomach grumbled hungrily.

"See, it'll do you good to eat something, honey." Heather smiled again, mistaking my stomach's growl for the need of food; I didn't need food… I needed him. But I took a bite of toast for the sake of Heather, who watched me with curious, wide eyes as I tackled the unappetizingly sweet taste in my mouth. Chewing was a mechanical response, as was swallowing. Two bites later, I was done.

"Hmm, okay," she agreed reluctantly, eyeing the slice of toast that had gone untouched. With great hesitance, she took the plate in her hands. "It's time to see Dr. Geller, honey. She's waiting in room one like yesterday."

She left, leaving me alone for a moment before I forced myself out of the small room and down the length of the unit to room one. I ignored the others on the ward, keeping my eyes on the pattern of the tiles to try and block out their stares. It wasn't as if they were perfect; they were here for some reason too.

I knocked gingerly and Dr. Geller appeared at the door seconds later.

"Hello, Bella," she said, that genuine smile creeping back into her features.

"Hi," I mumbled, creeping into the room and returning to the beanbag I sat in yesterday.

"A good night's sleep, I hear." Dr. Geller grinned, sitting in her own beanbag and crossing her ankles over with her legs outstretched.

"Yeah, sorry about missing earlier."

"No, don't worry, Bella. It's good that you're sleeping. The drugs are evidently working for you, which is great news."

I bit my lip and shuffled in my seat, making the insides of the chair rustle like a bag of pasta. Sleep didn't really class as sleep unless it was undisturbed, right? But how come I wanted the nightmares still? How come I wanted to relive the pain every night, just so I could see him again?

"Did you get around to drawing the self portrait, Bella?"

"Crap, no," I muttered, which made a giggle ripple from Dr. Geller's mouth, something she hastily tried to disguise with a cough.

"That's fine. There's no hurry," she assured me.

"I could do it now?" I suggested, thinking that it might be easier than talking today. I was still tired… and talking used up so much energy.

Dr. Geller seemed eager, nodding encouragingly as she got up slowly to hand me a piece of paper and a pencil with which I could draw. She handed me a clipboard from one of the drawers in the room, and I leant on my knee as I drew.

I'd never been a drawer; it was as if my hand rejected the pencil in my hand like a failing kidney. It didn't belong there, so why force it to be? But I drew, although it was complete trash. My face was long and thin, and my hair quite messy in my drawing. My eyes didn't look like eyes, and my mouth was too high up. My figure was pretty accurate, though small. I took my time, delaying the process, but I finished it, and handed it to Dr. Geller all the same as she critically looked it over.

"That's interesting, Bella."

"It is?"

"It is," she agreed. "May I ask what this is? Do you have a birthmark on your arm?"

She turned the picture around to me, and I screwed my face up as I looked at my drawing. It was awful; I could see similarities, but not many at all. Maybe just the same head shape... But Dr. Geller was pointing to a small shaded area on my arm.

"No, it's a bruise."

Dr. Geller's face expression didn't alter, but her tone did as she asked me with great caution:

"Why did you draw a bruise?"

"Erm," I paused for a moment, "'cause I'm clumsy, I guess."

Dr. Geller brought her lips in a little, pursing them as she scribbled her second note of the session. I noticed her glimpse at the rest of her papers before looking back up at me, a sense of sadness in her eyes which she tried to hide.

"Bella, I'd like to talk to you about something."

Obviously, I thought; otherwise I wouldn't be here. I watched as Dr. Geller leaned forward slightly, brushing a long strand of red hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. I hated how she leaned forward when she got all serious.

"It's about your ex-boyfriend, Bella, if that's okay?"

I froze, and said nothing. My body went rigid, the ability to talk slipping away and I forced myself to breathe deeply, pushing out the aches and pains as my diaphragm contracted.

"Did he ever hit you, Bella?" she asked quietly.

There was a sudden twist in my stomach, so sharp it took my breath. I gulped back the bile that rose in my throat. My mind went into overdrive, as did my heart, pounding viciously against my rib cage, trying to break free from the confines.

"What?" I gasped, physically recoiling as if she had hit me.

"Did your ex-boyfriend ever abuse you?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sympathy.

My body snapped as I stood up rapidly and my breathing turned ragged. I swallowed back the venom that threatened to spill out of my mouth if I spoke, and I began pacing around the beanbag with small but quick steps. With my fists clenched, my bitten nails dug into my palms, engraving little dents.

"Bella?"

"No!" I practically screamed. "He would never! How could you even ask that? He would never touch me like that; he was the kindest, most loving and caring person I've ever met! Wha-? H-Ho-? I can't believe you'd say that!" I cried, flinging my arms out, tears crashing around me as I tried to clear his name. I panted, frustrated as I clamped my eyes shut to stench the tears.

"It's oka-"

"But it's not okay! You keep telling me it is, when it isn't! He lov-"

Instantly, I stopped shouting. I realised what I was saying… that realisation… that sharp understanding that choked me into speechlessness and held me there for several seconds. Frozen. Every tiny hair on my body rose in shock and confusion. I ached with a new torment.

He didn't love me. He never had.

It was all a lie… and I was defending him.

But he'd never hit me. No matter what he'd said, no matter how he'd lied to me about his feelings, he had never hit me, although the blow would have been easier. The physical pain would have been better than the crumbling and confusion of these emotions that eroded away at me.

"Bella?" Dr. Geller whispered, and I turned around slowly to see her standing there, a concerned expression plastered across her face as she reached out tentatively to touch my shoulder.

I wiped my burning wet cheeks with a swipe of my hand.

"Would you like me to get you anything?"

Shaking my head, I looked her dead in the eye. She didn't believe me, I could see that.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Again, I shook my head, more violently this time. What could I say? What could I explain? If I started talking, I was scared I'd never stop. And even if he didn't love me, he trusted me with his secret. I could give him that, at least. If not for him, then for me; a padded cell did not seem like a good idea.

"Can I go?" I muttered.

She smiled sadly, and nodded her head. And with that, I left the room with such haste, I could have been a vampire myself.

When I'd firmly enclosed myself in my room, I let the tears fall. They'd accused him of being an abuser, when he wouldn't hurt a fly. Just the very thought of them labelling him with the word he so often wanted to call himself was completely false and unsettling…

And so I cried. I cried until there were no more tears, just heavy reckless sobs that shook my body with a force that had the possibility to break a bone.

I couldn't see past my own eyelashes for the blurry screen that my tears created; a translucent panel to shield me from the brutal world of fear and rejection. And the scent of the mass washed sheets - so unfamiliar and industrialised - felt impersonal.

Time passed. It did, even though I was cocooned in the small little hole that was my duvet, wrapped so tightly to hold myself together, my bedcovers the cello tape.

My breaths were ragged and hoarse, gasping every so often when a heavy sob lasted longer than my lungs could cope for, coming out shaking and rattled; a sound that scared me. It was this emptiness that scared me… the feeling of not being whole. But how long would it take to heal, even if not completely? Being complete, without him, was impossible.

After however much time had passed, there was a knock at the door.

It was Heather, informing me that Renée was calling for me, having been told the news by Charlie that I was hospitalised for my… depression. After repeating over and over, relaying imaginary details about another girl on the ward who was friendly, and the downright lie that therapy was helping, Renée finally hung up, promising to call again.

But then ten minutes later, Charlie rang. I muttered similar things to him too, although I recognised by his grunts of agreement that he didn't really believe me. He was much less gullible than Renée - either that, or he knew how damaged I was after watching me suffer for so long.

Neither conversations lasted long - about ten minutes at most - before I made quick excuses and hung up the phone in a similar pattern to before, returning to my safe haven that was my room, to rub my eyes and stare at the patterns of the ceiling, simply remembering. By living in the past, I could live in happiness, and in my dream world.

It was sometime in the day that there was a tap at the door as it lightly swung open. My eyes spotted the short red hair and the concerned eyes, and I immediately spun around so I couldn't see Dr. Geller's sympathetic face.

"Bella?"

I didn't turn around. She'd annoyed me, infuriated me. She'd made me relive parts of the horror that I didn't want to; I'd tried to defend him by saying he… loved me. But he didn't. He never had.

"You don't have to talk to me, but can I speak to you for a few moments?" she asked, that nice tone of hers creeping out again, almost demanding me to agree with her.

I shrugged and she continued, edging further into the room.

"I'm sorry if I said anything out of order earlier," she paused. "I just really want to help you, Bella, and it'd help me if you talked to me."

"He never touched me like that," I said, almost snarling the words when a small silence came between us.

"Okay, Bella. That's fine. That's a start; maybe we could talk about something else," she suggested as I remained quiet, still facing the wall rather than her face that made me want to tell her everything. "Like your favourite foods or something?"

"I don't have one."

"Everyone has a favourite food."

"Not anymore."

"Mine is strawberry pop tarts."

I didn't say anything.

"Maybe I could get us some for our next session?"

"I'm not hungry."

"What, ever?"

"No."

There was another silence. Slowly, very slowly, I turned around to face her. Dr. Geller's hair had changed since this morning; it was hanging around her shoulders now rather than in a neat ponytail as she'd had it earlier. And her eyes smiled at me.

"You look tired. Is the medication working, Bella?" she asked curiously, although we'd touched upon the medication before.

"I'm always tired," I sighed, brushing the hair from my eyes and fingering the sore patches where I'd tried to rub my eyes dry.

"There's something else, Bella. Your eating habits have decreased incredibly, and I'm beginning to wonder whether it's the lack of food that is making you so tired and feeling so low. Now, not eating is unhealthy for you. So I'm going to have to insist you eat something or we'll have to put you on a drip."

"Oh," I said quietly, turning away from her, ashamed. I felt my cheeks burning at her gaze, and I shrugged off her comment. The thought of eating something made me feel sick, the lining of my stomach wanting to be brought up as my body heaved heavily. But the thought of being on a drip seemed so drastic… made me seem so ill.

"I'll try to eat something later," I attempted to convince her while she eyed me sceptically as if making a note in her head now that she was without her clipboard.

There was a silence between us. Dr. Geller didn't seem to think it uncomfortable, although she was probably used to the suffocating awkwardness that had succumbed us. But I did.

The urge to say something bit at my ankles, trying to force something out of my lungs. But it wasn't any old words that my tongue begged for me to speak: it was a desire so strong that it was painful to hold it in. It was a desire to defend, a desire to protect, and it scolded. The only way to release it was to speak.

"He never touched me that way," I breathed quietly, trying to make her see, make her believe me. If there was anything that I needed her to realise, it was that Edward was caring and sensitive… even if he never felt anything towards me.

"I trust you."

I remained silent, just looking around my room awkwardly as Dr. Geller shuffled in the chair beside the door. She'd made no attempt to make notes of any kind since she'd came in, something I found strange.

"I came to apologise, Bella. I hope you accept. I didn't mean to accuse anybody of anything; I simply want to help you. There's obviously something making you feel unwell, and I want to help you feel better." She made new tears spring to my eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" I asked quietly, wanting her to leave now. She'd said her piece, and I would accept her apology. She seemed to believe me, and that was all I needed for now; to clear his name.

"Okay, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow."

Dr. Geller stood and left, and I cried again once she'd left, wondering how much more I could take. It wasn't necessarily for the same reason anymore either. Just the overwhelming loneliness, and the way people wanted to help me get better when I didn't know what to do to help myself. Eating seemed a start, but the food was so unappealing. The thought of it in my stomach made me feel queasy.

And so I sat again, just being.

My memory opened up for a few minutes, allowing to browse through the selected file cabinet in my mind that was stored away for times when I was alone, for knowing I would break into tears by delving just once into memory lane.

Each one stung like a bitter morning.

Each one made my heart ache with the deepest sense of loss.

Each one glistened like a black jewel, the forbidden fruit, and a guilty pleasure. It was almost masochistic, reliving these memories when they hurt so much. Anything so I didn't forget. Anything so long as his existence didn't slip to the back of my mind and slowly drift away like his presence had disappeared from my side.

When a badly cooked spaghetti Bolognese dinner came, I tried to eat it. But the jumbled mess on my plate, the mixture of meat and pasta glaring up at me, daring me to eat the gooey mush made me feel physically sick. But I tried; I ate three mouthfuls, forcing down a fourth.

Even that petty bit of food made me feel like I was about to expand. I hadn't eaten properly in so long, despite my efforts to at least attempt it.

After my outburst this morning, where I'd used my vocal cords in those few minutes that I had in the entire four months leading up to this smothering situation, I finally fell asleep; the conversation with Dr. Geller that had plunged me into a pool of self consciousness, head deep and unable to return to the surface to breath until she finally left with her fake promise of her belief, had utterly exhausted every inch of my feeble body.

I liked this chapter... I felt sorry for Bella because she so wanted to defend him by telling them he loved her! But to Bella, he never did. Damn that was frustrating!

Right, back to my physics revision now. I hate the stupid subject! I could revise for days and I still don't know anything. Feel sorry for me ;)

Please review; it's great to hear some feedback!