Author's Note: Quickest update ever! Thank you guys for the reviews! I felt so happy and inspired. I've never really believed people when they said that receiving reviews inspired them - up until two days ago. Yeah, I'm a novice, everything is new to me, lol. So here's the fast update for chapter 3! Enjoy.

Chapter 3: Visitors

"We met back in March when you and a group of friends hung out at First Beach," he explained.

I was lying on my hospital bed examining this Jacob Black. He had long, silky black hair and it was pulled into a ponytail. He looked about fourteen or fifteen and he had a hint of childish roundness to his chin.

He told me that his dad, Billy was my father's good friend. They went fishing together very often. Jacob said that Billy was here earlier as well, while I was asleep. He and my father went out to get something to eat.

"We walked along the beach and you asked me to tell you some Quileute legends. You seemed really interested about the story of the 'cold ones.'" Something about what he said bothered me. I didn't want to question him about the "cold ones" — about what they were. Something inside me told me I didn't want to know.

"You don't remember any of it, do you?" he asked, assuming that my silence meant I was trying to remember, not that I was trying to push away the thought. I gave him a weak no. He didn't seem bothered or surprised by my answer and continued on; filling me in on those times we saw each other.

"I saw you again at prom," he looked down and I could see the smallest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Did you uh… take me to prom?" I asked hesitantly.

He shook his head slightly. "No, no I didn't. That Cullen guy took you." He said that name with a bit of contempt.

Then I saw something blurry from the distance. Me in crutches and a blue dress… I concentrated harder to grasp onto the memory, to try to get more out of it. It was a deep blue dress, frilly and off the shoulders. One foot was encased in plaster while the other had on a stiletto heel, held on by satin ribbons. I could only see myself. Everything and everyone else was blurry. I knew that there were many people and there seemed to be music playing in the background. But that was it. I didn't know who those people were. I heard soft whispers next to my ear and lips caressing my neck.

"Mostly I dream about being with you forever."

And right that instant, the memory shattered, dragged away from me. My eyes snapped open and I could hear the erratic beating of the machine. I took in deep breaths to calm myself down, trying to will this subtle aching away.

"Bella? Bella, what's the matter?" The voice was clearer now. It was Jacob. His eyebrows were furrowed with worry. "Did you remember something?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah, I saw myself in a dress. There were lots of people… and there was music…" I tried recalling what I've seen. It wasn't as clear as the first time I saw it though. "That's it," I lied. For some reason, I didn't feel like discussing the whispers or the soft kisses that sent involuntary shivers up and down my spine. It was almost painful trying to remember it. And the voice… the one right before the memory faded — it was mine. My body was cold and I could feel myself shivering. And all the while, I felt something strange gnawing at my heart.

I was so rapt in my thoughts. I hadn't realized Jacob was still in the room until he placed a hand over mine. His hand was warm.

"It'll be okay," he said softly, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it slowly. It'll come back to you."

I wasn't sure if he was just trying to comfort me or if that was the truth. Either way, I believed him. I felt warm and safe looking into his dark, innocent eyes.

Jacob continued telling me things, like how Sam Uley was the one who found me at the bottom of the hill in my truck. He and Charlie brought me to the hospital.

"Charlie said it was pretty gruesome. You were all covered in blood and had a lot of glass cut into your skin." I winced at the mental image he was creating. Jacob noticed and changed the subject.

He talked about the car he was building. He called it the Rabbit. I was amazed that he knew how to build cars. Jacob also talked about his friends, Quil and Embry.

I learned a lot about him in those short hours. I talked along, trying to be conversational. Although most of the time I just said "I see," he didn't seem to mind. I don't remember ever coming to this town of Forks or ever going to this First Beach he told me about. I knew nothing about La Push, where he and his friends lived. Everything was all new to me. But he didn't seem bothered by this at all. While he talked, he held onto my hand. He never let go since he held onto it. I didn't mind. It was warm. It felt nice.

A group of people came to visit me later on that day. Jacob was still here when they arrived. One of them was petite and she had curly brown hair. Another girl was amazingly tall and she also had brown hair. She held hands with a boy who was a bit shorter than her. He had jet black hair.

I felt overwhelmed by the number of people in the room. Seeing so many new faces made me feel nervous and self-conscious. There were a total of six new visitors. Another one of the boys was very tall. I'd say he was about six feet three. He had hair that looked very greasy and had a poor complexion. The one who stood next to him was only a bit shorter than he was. This boy had brown hair, but the thing different about him was that he was darker. He was tanner than the other visitors. And the final one had his pale blond hair gelled into a carefully casual disarray. His face was slim and it made his cheekbones look more prominent; this made him look a bit older than the rest.

"Oh, Bella! You look horrible!" the girl with the curly hair cried, her eyes brimming with tears. "How could this have happened to you?!"

"Are you feeling comfortable? Can I get you anything?" the second girl said gently. Her voice was calm and her brown eyes looked very kind. I shook my head at her.

And afterwards, they reintroduced themselves one by one.

The girl with the curly hair was very talkative and she introduced herself as Jessica Stanley. We have math class together.

"My name is Angela Weber. I hope you feel better Bella," said the girl with the warm brown eyes.

The tallest boy said his name was Eric Yorkie. The one with tanned skin was Tyler Crowley and he said something about almost hitting me with his car last year. Everyone looked at him cautiously after he said that. It seemed like I was missing something here.

The boy with the pale blond hair was Mike Newton. "I brought some flowers for you," he said. He handed them to me but seeing as I had trouble reaching for them, Jacob took them and placed them on the table beside me. I smiled at Jacob and thanked Mike for his generosity.

The six of them stood around my bed, telling me the things that were happening at school. Jessica filled me in on the latest gossip. I wasn't really listening. I didn't remember any of the names they mentioned anyway.

"I wonder where Ed—" Mike elbowed Jessica before she could finish. "What?" she asked, looking baffled, and then suddenly something seemed to have dawned on her. "Oh," she said quietly. I think a part of me knew what she wanted to say. What everyone avoided talking about — the reason why my heart involuntarily ached. I stared at the ceiling. I found a small crack at one of the corners and concentrated on it, taking in slow, steady breaths.

I don't know how long I stared at that crack, but at some point, something warm squeezed my hand.

"It's okay." Upon hearing his voice, my body relaxed and I could feel my heart slowing down. The room was empty now. My visitors had left. It was only Jacob and me again. We didn't speak, but it was a comfortable silence. And I think he knew this too because he was smiling again. I smiled with him. It was contagious.

Not soon afterwards, three people came into the room. I sighed, worried that they were new visitors again. But only one of them was new. He was an old man in a wheelchair. The other two were Charlie and the doctor. They walked to the end of my bed.

"Bella, it's good to see that you're awake. I hope you're feeling better," the man in the wheelchair said. "Jacob, let's go home. I think the doctor has something to discuss with Charlie and Bella." He must be Billy, Jacob's dad.

"I'll come visit you tomorrow," Jacob said softly and got up. He exited the room with Billy and closed the door.

"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked. I told him that my body was sore all over and that if I moved, I would feel sharp pains. He explained that it was normal because I had many critical injuries. He said he would give me more pain medications after he was done talking to me. He asked me if any memories resurfaced, and I told him about the earlier incident. I described it to him to the best of my ability. He nodded and jotted things down onto his notepad.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about your condition today," the doctor said. Charlie was now standing awkwardly beside me.

"As I've explained to your father before, you have retrograde and anterograde amnesia. Retrograde amnesia is when you don't remember things prior to the onset of amnesia. It seems that you don't remember your past year in this town. So you think you still live in Phoenix with your mother.

"In your case of anterograde amnesia, you retain your procedural memory, the long-term memory of skills and how to do things such as answer the phone or cook. But you lose your declarative memory, the aspect of human memory that stores facts. So you may not remember who visited you or who talked to you, like yesterday when you asked if Charlie was your father twice." I felt a stab of guilt at this revelation. It must have hurt him.

"And the psychologist discovered one more thing. You also have dissociative amnesia."

"What is that?" I asked. Was it even possible to have so many types of amnesia?

As if he read my mind, he said, "Retrograde and anterograde amnesia are normal with the amount of damage the hippocampus, located in the medial temporal lobes had suffered.

"Dissosiative amnesia, however, is a bit different. Dissosiative amnesia is due to psychological rather than physiological causes. It's caused by overwhelming stress or traumatic events a person has experienced."

I looked at Charlie and he seemed angry. The doctor continued.

"It's different from simple amnesia. The memories are not lost; they're simply buried deep within the brain. The memories might resurface on their own or triggered by relevant events."

"Will I ever remember everything again?" I looked down at my hands.

"Amnesia's different with different people. Sometimes memories come back slowly with time." He paused. "Sometimes certain memories don't resurface at all."

"Is there anything I can do to help her?" Charlie asked anxiously. I awaited the answer, almost as anxious as he was.

"Bella's brain will take a few months to recover. During that healing process, some memories will come back to her. However, as for the repressed memories, psychotherapy would be helpful. It uses psychological techniques to encourage communication of conflicts, so the problem can be discussed and solved.

"Sometimes the buried memories involuntarily resurface. If they do, Bella, you shouldn't try to push them away. Talk to Charlie, a doctor or a nurse about them. It's best to retrieve the memories so they won't cause long-term stress or internal conflicts."

This was a lot to take in. There seemed to be a heavy weight on my shoulders as he finished talking. My head was hurting and I felt incredibly sleepy. After they left, I drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

It was the same nothingness that greeted me, but it felt different this time. It wasn't that empty and lonely feeling. I felt as if someone was here with me.

For some reason, my body was growing warmer by the second. My body tensed up, not used to the growing heat. I was mostly asleep, but a part of me was still awake. I felt restless and uncomfortable.

And then suddenly, something cold caressed my cheek. I know there was something cold beside me; I could feel the coolness next to my body. I concentrated on it and I felt the heat slowly subsiding.

As I relaxed, I started drifting further into sleep. Something cold touched my forehead, it was very gentle. I knew I was not far from complete darkness. My body was too tired.

A melody. A soft humming.

A heartbreakingly beautiful lullaby sounded from the distance, fading slowly as my senses shut down. As I surrendered to the Sandman's magic, I felt a sense of peace. But somewhere deep within me, I felt a bit of pain too.

Author's Note: Like how this chapter ended? -smile- There was much dialogue in this chapter. I hope it wasn't too boring... when I write dialogue, they tend to slump to the boring side. I edited many times and this was the best I could come up with, so forgive me!

The italicized quote in the middle of the chapter was from the epilogue of Twilight where Edward and Bella were at prom. And the last thing about the Sandman - he's the man in folklore that puts sand in children's eyes so they'll fall asleep. I don't really know where the idea came from. Pretty corny, haha.

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter. I'll see you in chapter 4!