If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
~Diane Loomans
Bella POV:
I was saved.
I could hear police sirens blaring from outside, I was going to be okay, I was going to be saved! Nothing else in the world could compare to how happy I was feeling in those few moments. It was no doubt the best emotion I have ever felt, knowing that I was cared about and that hopefully in a few hours I will be safe and sound in my bed.
Running away from my family was without a doubt, the most stupid and reckless thing I have ever done. Not that I had done many, but still. I now know what danger lies outside my front gates and I will always listen to my older brothers and my dad in the future, knowing that they have my best interests at heart, also because I don't want to put them through this again.
Edward's hand was still pressed against my mouth and I could see both him and the other guy staring intently at each other, fear plastered all over their faces. Naturally, I started screaming so that the police would come into this room first before they both got away, but unfortunately, my cries were muffled and when I tried to hit him, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the mattress.
"What should we do?" he asked the blonde, tightening his grip slightly on my wrist making me whimper.
"Run. We should leave her here though. She would only slow us down," he replied, making a cross with his fingers at which Edward nodded at. They both stood up fast and left for the door. I smiled triumphantly; I was half expecting them to shoot me before I left as I knew names and who they worked for etc... However, my victory was short lived as the blonde one pulled something out of his pocket and chucked it in my direction before both of them ran out of the room, locking the door behind them.
Only seconds later, smoke began pouring out of it, being released so fast in fact that I barely had time to register what was happening to me.
They were going to smother me to death. I guess I should have known, I mean they are Cullen's and why had I been so naive to think they would just let me get away. I knew their names, what they looked like which could become crucial information to finding them. Of course, they couldn't just quickly shoot me in the head making it less uncomfortable that suffocating me to death, no, they had to use smoke.
"It's not the fire that's the killer, it's the smoke..." I heard Billy's voice float through my head and I remembered when he was telling me methods of killing someone.
The smoke was everywhere by now, filling every single part of free space within this room and within my body.
Even though I estimated that a minute had gone past perhaps, I had long since stopped screaming, knowing that it would only make the amount of toxic fumes I consume, rise. Of course, I had thought about just letting the smoke take over me, suffocating and erasing all of the little life I had left, as doing this would make death much faster than it already was. At the moment it was slowly creeping towards me, slowly incapacitating me until it sees fit to snuff all of my life out of me at the last possible moment.
But I knew that there were people outside, fighting to find a save me, so if I managed to hold on for a few more minutes, surely I would be discovered? That was the only tiny thread of hope I had left and that I could hold onto at the moment. Everything that I had been through these last few hours had finally taken its toll on me and I could feel my mental wall beginning to crumble down. Edward had no idea at how good he was at playing this game. He was too good in fact and I knew that if I had spent a few more hours with him, I might just have caved in.
Edward Cullen.
Those two words sent hatred and anger running through my veins just at the mere thought of him. If he re-entered this room, I had no idea what I would do, but I know it would result in me giving him an injury and if I could manage it, hopefully break his nose. Not that I was strong enough to do anything to him, but a girl on her deathbed can still dream, right?
Edward was the reason why I was lying here on this filthy floor in this black room filled to the brim with smoke from the grenade he threw in here. He patched me up and made me nearly believe that everything was going to be alright. But then he turns around and pulled a stunt like this.
And so I vowed to myself when I could feel the rest of my strength leaving my body, that when I had fully died, I would return from my grave and haunt Edward Cullen until the day he dies himself.
I would not let him forget this.
The room began to blur and I was chocking for oxygen to relieve me from this. But my wish never came. I was giving up, I could feel it, my body was relaxing and my eyes were beginning to close. I tried to fight it, to stay awake for both me and my family but the urge was too strong and every second I was fighting against it, I was losing more energy and becoming more lethargic.
Eventually it became too much so I let myself fall in the black abyss that awaited me. But just before I let myself completely let go I faintly registered bangs and shouting.
And then that was it.
People were calling my name and I felt hands on my face – gently slapping at my cheeks, trying to rouse me unconsciousness. I was cold – in fact, I was very cold and if it wasn't for the pain I would have thought I was dead. I mean death shouldn't be this painful should it? It was supposedly all white and fluffy with beautiful angles flying around, singing in harmony. Not this, not this agonizing.
People were moving around me, shouting orders whilst I was being stabbed at with what I assumed were needles. However, I could not tell as I had a much more prominent pain emitting from my stomach – the stab wound. If it were possible, the pain seemed to have increased from when I was first injured. You would have thought that I would have grown to deal with the pain or that it would have decreased over the time, but no, it was much more excruciating than previously. On the other hand, I couldn't really complain could I? I was the one who ran away from home; I was the one who angered Edward and James so much that this happened to me. In fact, I could have avoided this injury and near death experience if only I had listened to Edward and given him what he wanted to know – well the little that I did know. My father was right in not telling me information, I was a liability and vulnerable to being kidnapped like I just was.
I could only faintly register what was going on but from the feel of the cold night air whipping against my face, I realised that I must have been removed from the building. Perhaps the movement was making the pain intensify by one thousand times. Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating, but I'm on my death bed, aren't I allowed too?
Something was building up in my smoked raw throat and suddenly I was wheezing and coughing for air, releasing all the smoke that I had inhaled into the chilly air, my lungs fighting for oxygen so that I could continue breathing although I was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. I mean, to me it seemed as though I was going to die anyway and in all honesty, I would rather die than live with a family who doesn't love me, the next few weeks of pain and the never-ending nightmares that I was certain I would receive nightly now due to this... experience. However, someone pressed something over my face – most likely an oxygen mask as within a few seconds my breathing was made easier somehow and I was not struggling as much for air.
Wanting to know what was going on, I tried to open my eyes but they would only open a few millimetres but after a few seconds of struggling I managed to open them fully to be greeted with an unfamiliar face was peering at me from above and behind her I could see the flashing lights of an ambulance and police cars. I found out that I could not speak with an oxygen mask on my face so I reached up to take it off but the lady grabbed my wrist and held it down to the trolley thing I was lying on.
"Isabella, is it?" The lady asked whilst checking for my pulse by placing two fingers on my wrist. Nodding, I tried to remove the oxygen mask again, but like before, I was stopped but by somebody else this time – it was Sam.
"Bella, you need to relax, stressing yourself out won't do anybody any favours. Just please, sit back and let the paramedic to her job," Sam said, moving one hand to my forehead and rubbing it slightly in an attempt to soothe me whilst his other hand kept a firm grip on my wrist.
"Right Isabella," the paramedic intervened, "I'm going to need to you to tell me where and how you got the injury on your stomach from and if you feel any pain in your body. I'm going to take the mask of for a few moments so you can speak, is that OK with you?" I nodded and within second's fresh air rushed into my lungs and inhaling deeply, a stab of pain shot through my stomach. Seeing the look of agony upon my face, Sam grasped my hand and rubbed it soothingly.
"How was this injury inflicted Isabella?" The lady asked. I concentrated on the two men behind her opening the back of the ambulance.
"Knife wound," I murmured.
"Okay," she replied, "and who stitched it up for you?"
I froze momentarily at her words – should I tell them who it was or not? Would Jasper and Edward, or maybe even James come back for me and kill me in case I revealed their identities? In all fairness, I could probably get them thrown in prison or receive the capital punishment if I told my family who did this to me. But was it worth living the rest of my life in fear, knowing that there would people after me, wanting revenge for killing Carlisle Cullen's son? Weighing my options quickly, I soon came to a conclusion on what I should do. For now I would not tell who my kidnappers were in case they found me and successfully kill me – I did not want to lose my life.
"I don't know," I groaned as they lifted the gurney I was on into the ambulance. Same joined me in the back, keeping his hand wrapped around mine the whole time.
"What do you mean you don't know Bella? Do you not know who kidnapped you and by the looks of it, tortured you?" Sam asked, clearly not understanding me.
"Yes, I don't know who kidnapped me," I mumbled, closing my eyes so that I wouldn't have to see Sam's face.
"Isabella," the paramedic interrupted again before Sam could reply, "I'm going to have to lift your top up so I can assess your stomach injury if that's okay with you?" I nodded once, not opening my eyes and I felt cold air against my stomach flesh as she lifted up my top. I felt her poking around the wound and I gasped loudly as her finger strayed towards the extremely tender skin.
She murmured words such as "infection" and "treated fast" whilst she gently pulled my top up further and began pressing against sore spots on my ribcage. "You have an awful lot of bruises," she commented while she began prodding my ribs.
"Yes," I hissed, "the man kicked and punched me often when I wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know."
"What did he want to know Bella? What did you tell him? Was he a Cullen?" Sam asked, his tone becoming more serious by the second.
I opened my mouth to reply but thankfully the paramedic spoke up before I had the chance to. "Sir, I must have to ask you to hold your questions until our patient is in a stable condition. There is a high chance of internal bleeding and although we are nearing the hospitable, I would prefer it if Isabella is kept as relaxed as possible until after the operation." Sam nodded and shut his mouth but staring at me with worry and pity in his eyes.
"Internal bleeding?" I asked, feeling the panic bubble and rise within me. "Why would I have internal bleeding, surely I would have felt it?"
"Calm down miss," the paramedic said, gently placing her hands on my shoulder so that I would not try and sit up, "It is only a chance but once you are in the operating theatre, we should be able to fix it."
"Operating theatre? I don't need to have an operation! I'm perfectly fine, see? If there was internal bleeding surely we would know by now?" The panic was becoming almost unbearable by now and I could feel myself shaking. There was no way that I was willing to leave my life in somebody else's hands. I had watched programs about hospitals and how people did not always survive the operating table – why should I be one of them, especially that there was nothing seriously wrong with me, my wound had been stitched up, and so there really was no need.
"Isabella, trust me, the surgeons know that they are doing, they have gone through many years of training for instances like this. There is no danger, please relax."
"Please," I begged as tears began streaming down my face, "I'm fine, really, look!" And with that I attempted to get of the gurney but hands held me back down. "Please, I'm fine; I just want to go home!" I was sobbing now and tears were streaming down my face and through my blurred vision I could see Sam leaning over to the paramedic and whisper something in her ear, she nodded and bent down to retrieve something out of her bag.
"What are you talking about? Please just let me-"But before I could finish my sentence something pricked my arm and I looked down to see a syringe sticking out of it. "What-" I began but my eyelids drooped and my vision clouded over and before I knew it, I was out like a light.
Slowly, I began to register what was happening and there was a very distinct and annoying beeping in my ear and I groaned as it was giving me a headache. My senses slowly cam e back to me and I could feel aching in what seemed, every bone in my body. I groaned again and tilted my head towards the side and brought my hand to my forehead. Slowly and surely I opened my eyes to a bright white light, making me automatically shut my eyes just at the sheer force of it, a rested my eyes for a few seconds and opened them again, this time blinking a few times to let my eyes adjust to the new light. Once fully opened, I surveyed my surroundings and as I had guessed – I was in a hospital.
Currently, I was lying on a clean white bed, with crisp sheets and big pillows, there was a quilt draped over my legs, probably to keep me warm and my dressing gown and slippers were slung over an arm chair in the corner of the room. The room was not a typical hospital room which made me think that I was in a private room, away from the other patients. The walls were a deep crimson red, reminding me of blood in a way but also making the room seem slightly cosier. The curtains were also a deep crimson and they were pulled across the window so that I could not tell if it was day or night and there was no clock within my sight so I could not tell that way. Turning to my right I saw a many get well soon cards and bunches of flowers on a large side table, along with cute little teddy bears. Smiling to myself I turned my head forward just as a woman walked into the room.
"It's nice to see you are awake for a change," the lady said with a smile as she walked towards me. On closer inspection she looked to be in her mid fifties and was wearing nurse attire so I assumed she was here to take care of me.
"What happened?" I asked, "I have no recollection of what happened after the ambulance..." I trailed of and she checked a clipboard that was hanging at the bottom of the bed.
"I'm not surprised," she replied. "The doctor's have had to keep you sedated for the past few days after your operation. Whenever you came round you would begin screaming and crying so that you were sedated again."
"Oh," was all I could say in reply, slightly embarrassed by my actions.
There was silence for a few minutes whilst the nurse checked my temperature and refilled the bag of water which was attached to my arm. I turned my head away when she did this, I did not want to see what was going into my body and I did not want to see a needle sticking out of it either.
"You've had many visitors whilst you've been unconscious," the nurse commented. "Your father especially, he's been here every day since you were brought in and would bring some fresh flowers each time. In fact," she said glancing at her watch, "he should be here pretty soon, he always arrives about eleven." And as though my father was listening to our conversation, he strolled inside the room at that moment.
The nurse smiled at me again and said, "I'll leave you two to it then," and then left the room, shutting the door after her.
"Go away," I said firmly before my father had a chance to speak.
"Bella, I know you're mad at me but I didn't mean a word I said, I was just angry and you know what people are like when they get angry."
"When people are angry, they usually speak the truth and I know that what you said to me was the truth father, it has to be."
"Bella, please listen to me—"
"No," I said, turning away so that I wasn't facing him. "I don't want to hear it. And by the way, I'm moving out when I'm discharged."
"No you are not!" He bellowed, his face slowly turning red. "I am your father, you are only fifteen years old, a little girl practically and until you are married, you will be staying under my roof!"
Turning around, I stared him in the eye with a cold, hard stare and said coolly, "I have no father anymore Charles. To me, you are dead so I suggest you leave."
My words must have hit him hard because his face turned from red to pale and his expression turned pained and with once last glance at me he turned and fled the room.
Edward's POV:
"Would you like to explain this," my father exclaimed whilst pointing at the TV screen. Currently, we were sitting in his office with the door shut so that nobody could hear our argument.
"Not really, no," I replied calmly. "The situation sort of speaks for itself."
"Don't you DARE be so cheeky with me," Carlisle said, raising his voice. "Do you have any idea what situation your silly and careless plan has put us in?" He paused, expecting me to reply but he was met with silence.
"We were supposed to be keeping a low profile," he hissed, slamming his fists on his desk. "You have now put the whole country on high alert from activity from us. Thanks to you it is going to be very difficult for us to get equipment in and out of the country and we have to move bases right this second because the police and army are investigating our whereabouts closer!" He stopped ranting for a few seconds and stared at me, before saying, "Do you have nothing at all to say about all of this?"
"Not really, no," I replied, trying to keep m voice level because to be frank, my father was terrifying me right now, I had no idea what he was going to do – he was unpredictable like that.
He stared at me again and I began to shift under his gaze. "How could you Edward?" he whispered, "Isabella Swan is only fifteen years old! Do you know how inhumane your treatment of her was? She's Alice's age for Christ's sake Edward! What would you do if the Swan's tortured Alice, how would you feel then?"
The guilt was rising in my chest again and regret burned in my throat as I spoke, "I never meant for it to go this far. James was not supposed to harm her this bad, just push her around a bit until she spoke, I never meant for her to be stabbed in the stomach!"
"I am not just speaking about her torture, I am also talking about that fact that you and Jasper tried to suffocate her to death when you escaped! First you treat her like that, and then you try and kill her! The poor girl is going to be traumatised for the rest of her life!"
Ashamed, I looked at the floor, unable to meet my father's gaze who was full of shame and disappointment in me. "I'm sorry," I mumbled to my feet.
"Sorry doesn't cut it this time Edward," he snapped back. "I have been far too lenient with you, and now you will pay for it. I am taking you off all duties for the next year; instead you will just sort out all of the paper work."
"Dad that's not fair!" I protested.
"Life isn't fair Edward," he replied. "And what you did to Isabella was certainly not fair either."
Closing my eyes, I sighed. "As you wish."
"Good," my father replied, "you are dismissed."
Turning around, I walked towards the door and as I was turning the knob, my father called me back. "You are not to tell your mother or anyone else about this. Luckily for you, Isabella Swan has not claimed who kidnapped her, so for now, this stays between me, you and Jasper, is that understood?"
"Yes Sir," I replied and fled the office, running up towards my room where I could reflect in my appalling actions towards the girl.
AN: *Walks in sheepishly* Uh, hey, I know it has been a while and I would like to apologise so much for that! I have been suffering through GCSE's which I am finding very stressful and yeah, fanfiction had to take a back seat I'm afraid! But I am back now and I will try and update more frequently than I have for the past year and a half!
Follow me on twitter if you want to talk! I love talking to reviewers! My username is Dustyrose03 and there is a direct link on my profile, so yeah, hit the follow button and I'll follow back!
I missed you all when I was gone and I hope you don't hate me too much!
