I'm trying to get at least two more reviews before I update again. PLEASE!!

Disclaimer: If I owned My Chemical Romance, I'd be rich. If I owned Scooby-Doo, I'd be richer. If I owned Twilight, I'd be the richest person in the universe. I obviously don't own anything because I can't even pay off my 1.20 fine at the library.


The bell rang then and, after taking out my notebook to write my annual letters, I heard a voice say, "Hello, I'm Edward Cullen."

Let the games begin.

I stopped writing for a second so that I could turn my head to give him a polite nod and said, "Bella."

I put my head down again as I continued writing:

I know you'll never get a chance to see what's on this letter, but I just wanted to say that-

"I'm sorry about my rude behavior last week," Edward interrupted my writing again. "Both in class and near my car. I was not myself."

I'll bet.

I folded my paper over and slowly turned to look at him. Hmm, his skin is less pale, maybe a little flushed from the snow, but-

"No that's fine," I said as I observed his features. "It's not every day people act like I should die. I didn't mind."

He frowned slightly at the sarcasm tinting voice.

"I-," He started to say something, but the bell rang and Mr. Banner called for our attention.

While he was talking about the lab we would be doing, I resumed my inspection through my make-shift curtain of hair.

-his eyes were definitely a different color too. I remember the endearing, pitch-black of his eyes. Today, they were butterscotch yellow.

"-you'll be working with your lab partners to-," Mr. Banner's words floated into my mind.

Also, the noticeable bags under his eyes were almost gone now. Less noticab- Wait, WHAT! WORK WITH OUR LAB PARTNERS! Please tell me that it's not the person next to us!

I mean, I knew that we had a lab, but I thought that it would be an INDEPENDENT lab! Shoot! Crap it all!

"Get to work," Mr. Banner told us in a tern voice.

"Ladies first, partner?" Edward turned to me and gave me a dazzling smile. Not that I was affected by it.

"Sure," I shrugged and reached for the first slide.

I quickly put the plastic under the scope and adjusted the settings to 100. Perfect. "Prophase is number one."

"Wait," Edward reached out to stop my fingers from removing the slide. As he did, I got a shock and jerked my hand away.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, and slid the scope in his line of vision. "Yes, it's prophase."

I took the paper Mr. Banner had lain out and, agreeing with his assessment, wrote our answer in the space.

Edward reached over and put in another slide.

"Anaphase," he said as he observed.

"May I take a look?" I asked politely.

He maneuvered the scope in my direction, and when I took a look, saw that it was, indeed, anaphase.

I quickly glanced down at our paper and saw that Edward had already written down the answer. That's insulting. He wrote down the answer even before I checked to make sure that it was right. Almost as if my opinion wouldn't matter anyway.

"Next," I said and held out my hand. Edward placed the slide on my hand so that our skin didn't touch again, I noticed.

"Metaphase," I said and passed him the microscope again.

And it went on like this for two more questions. It was highly irritating, let me tell you.

"So," Edward said after a moment of silence. "It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?"

I thought for a moment.

"Nope," I kept my eyes down as I resumed my letters.

"You don't like the snow," Edward said. Not asked, said.

"No, I do," I replied.

Edward looked at me for a moment. "You like the snow, but not the fights, then?"

Finally, a proper guess.

"Mhmm," I nodded.

"So Forks must be an easy place for you to live in then, seeing as it rains and snows here all of the time" he said.

I stopped writing and turned to stare at him. Is he kidding? Wait, that's right: he doesn't know.

After making eye contact for five or six seconds, I decided to tell the truth.

"No," I shook my head, a sad smile playing on my lips. "It's not."

"What do you mean?" Edward asked me, curiosity plain on his face.

"I really shouldn't. You wouldn't be able to keep up."

Edward smiled slightly. "I think I can."

I thought for a second and decided to tell A truth. Not THE truth. Well, I'll have to change a thing here and there, but it'll work.

"Well," I started off slowly. "My…mom, Renee got remarried not to long ago." Lie.

"That's not very complex," Edward argued, but his expression softened nonetheless.

"Well, it's not that I don't like Phil or anything. He's a couple years younger, but I don't mind. It just that," I sighed. "Phil plays minor league baseball and travels a lot, and, being newly weds, mom wanted to go too."

"So she sent you here," Edward concluded.

"No, I sent myself," my voice was defensive. "It was obvious that she wanted to travel with him, so I told her I'd come and stay with Ch- dad, for a while." Lie.

"But, you don't seem very happy," Edward observed.

"So?" I gave a bitter laugh-the only type of laugh I let out now. "What does it matter? Besides, if you knew me, you would know that I'm-,"

I snapped my mouth shut suddenly. I had already said too much. My only hope would be that Edward wouldn't notice.

"That you're…what?" Edward asked me.

"That I..." I looked around nervously and came up with an excuse that would make him drop it. "…noticed your eyes are a different color!"

Edward looked startled.

"I'm sorry," he said expressionlessly. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Just then, Mr. Banner called the class to order and we went over our answers. We had just finished, when the bell rang. I already had my stuff packed, so I picked up my bag and rushed to the door.

Unfortunately, I ran into Edward at the door. Literally. His teeth were clenched as I quickly stepped back and let him pass.

I observed the way his fists were clenching and unclenching, as if resisting the urge to hit something. Something about this movement stirred a repressed memory…

I shook it off and ran to gym; this isn't the time or the place to think about it.


After I made dinner and finished my homework, I left a note on the counter for Charlie saying where I would be going. I had just finished my letters and was going to place them before sundown.

I put my hat and sunglasses on and rushed out the door. I decided to use an old bike in the garage instead of my truck; anyone would notice who was in it five miles away.

I straddled the bike, put on my helmet, and pulled out into the street.

As I rode, my feet peddled in time to the music on my iPod:

I never said I'd lie and wait forever.
If I died, we'd be together now

So very true. But they wouldn't have wanted that.

You are never coming home never coming home

Could I?

Should I?
And all the things that you never ever told me
And all the smiles that are never, ever-

Also true. You are never coming back to me; none of you. And without you guys, how will I ever feel at home? There were some many things we hadn't done yet; so many things to learn about each other…

Ever get the feeling that you're never
all alone?

And i remember, now, at the top of my lungs in my arms, she dies

And how I wish that it didn't have to happen like that. She shouldn't have had to die in my arms. That's not how she would want me to remember her.

She die-e-ies

And all the wounds that are ever
gonna scar me
For all the ghosts that are never
gonna catch me

No one caught me. No one ever will. I've come to terms with that. More battle scars to hide from the other wandering eyes.

If i fall
If I fall
down

To late, I already fell. No ifs,ands,or buts about it.

…Never coming home
never coming home
Could I?

No.

Should I?

Yes.

And all the wounds that are ever
gonna scar me

I stopped the bike as I reached my destination. Forks Cemetery.

I climbed off and set my bike carefully on the ground. As I walked through the iron gates, I took a deep breath and went forward.

After a minute of walking, I finally found the graves I was looking for. There were fourteen graves that I needed to go to. Each one right next to the other near the rest of the P's.

I lay a letter on each grave and, at the last one, sat down and began to talk.

"Hey, how's it going? I started the therapy today. I wrote everyone letters. It helped a little, but I can't say that I'm cured." A tear rolled down my cheek. "I hate that this happened to you guys. It was all my fault and I can't tell you how sorry I am. Not that you'll ever know; you're all gone."

My voice faltered and I stopped talking. My throat was too tight and tingly to speak anymore.

When my I could speak, I sang a line for each person from their favorite song because they had always liked it when I sang to them.

At the other far end, I sang the theme song for Scooby-Doo: it was my littlest brother's favorite. The sad thing is, he was only nine. My youngest sibling was seven.

"HOW COULD YOU TAKE THEM FROM ME? I NEEDED THEM!" I shouted at the sky.

I fell down on all fours and curled up into a tight ball. Next to my family.