You guys must be about ready to murder me. I wouldn't be surprised if I walked out of my house and found an angry mob holding torches and pitch forks, just waiting to get there hands on me. lol. I am so, so SO, super duper SORRY, for making everyone wait so incredibly long, especially since I left you guys with a cliffy, last chapter.

Disclaimer: I most obviously don't own the genius workings of the Twilight series. Or I wouldn't be writing on fanfiction. It all belongs to the incredible Stephenie Meyer!

This chapter is named after Still Frame by Trapt.

PS- This chapter ends in a different POV. I don't think I'll be doing that very often, but I liked it better this way. So, on to chapter 10. Enjoy?

Chapter 10: Still Frame

Bella's POV

I tore the page that held my poem, out of my note book, folded it and stuffed it into my pocket. I returned the notebook into my backpack.

Sighing, I cut the trucks engine and stepped out. The sky was a dreary mixture of blue-gray, and looking up at it, I could tell it was going to rain.

As I began to walk, my legs became weak and my head began to pound. I ignored the feeling and made my way to the hospital.

Inside, I trudged past the receptionist, towards Carlisle's office. Just before I turned the knob of his door, I did away with the grimace that had formed on my face, and plastered an indifferent expression onto it.

"Good afternoon, Bella," Carlisle was sitting in the swivel chair, behind his desk.

"Good afternoon, Carlisle."

"I trust you've completed your assignment?" he questioned.

I nodded my head and reached into my pocket, for the poem. I handed it to Carlisle and took a seat across from him.

I gauged his expression, as he read and re-read my poem. He did a good job of keeping his face calm, but I could have sworn that I saw a flicker of concern in his topaz orbs.

"How was your week, Bella?" he finally asked.

"It was fine, and yours?" I answered, nonchalantly.

"It was good, thank you for asking," I nodded my head. He looked over my face. "I see you've gotten your lip pierced." I only nodded again. "When?"

"Sunday," I answered, knowing full well, what he was doing. He was making small talk. Trying to convey a sense of companionship between us, so that when we began to talk about my problems, I would trust and confide in him.

My last psychiatrist often used this method, on me. It wasn't going to work.

"What did your parents think about it?" I shrugged. "Do they even know about the piercing?"

"I'm not sure," I mused. I hadn't seen any of Charlie or Ruth in the past week. I'd been avoiding them. I doubted if they knew. And, if they didn't know, then Renee- most definitely- didn't know, either.

"Bella," he started, giving up on the small talk. "Can you tell me why it is that you feel this way?" he motioned towards my poem.

I looked away from him, and after a few minutes, it was clear that I was not going to answer his question. "I have received a number of calls from your parents. They are really worried about you."

I smirked, before speaking in an acidic tone. "Really?"

"Yes. Your mother tells me that you haven't been answering any of her phone calls. She said that she bought you a cell phone, specifically for you to keep in touch with her," I remained silent. He sucked in a breath. "Your father has told me that he hasn't spoken to, or seen you in days. He says that you are always locked up in your room. Why are you avoiding your parents?"

"Bella, we need to communicate, on some level, if I am going to help you," he bartered with me, after a long moment of silence.

I focused my gaze on a paper clip that I had spotted on the floor and remained quiet for a few more seconds, before speaking in a hushed tone. "What makes you think I want any help?"

"If you don't want any help, than why are you here?" he inquired, calmly.

"To be frank, I am only here because of Renee. She's forcing me to come to these sessions. Ask her," I waved my hand, dismissively, looking up to him.

He raised his eyebrows, and after a moment, spoke. "And why do you think she wants you to be here?"

"'Cause of the MDD," I shrugged.

"Bella," he began. "she is concerned about you. She wants to know what is causing her daughter such grief. Could you at least try to cooperate with me, for her sake?" I looked away from him, again. "I am sure that- aside from Renee- your father and step parents must also be extremely worried about you."

A wicked smile spread across my face, before I could prevent it. And, I had to repress an acerbic laugh, with a cough. The coughing worsened the pain in my ribcage, and I tried to soothe it, by rubbing a hand over the tender skin.

Carlisle stared at me, curiously for a moment, before beginning, again, "Bella, have you been taking your medication?"

I chuckled, dryly. "That question, used in this situation, makes me sound like a loon."

"I can assure you that you aren't a "loon". The medication is just a treatment for your disorder. As are these sessions. It is crucial for you to take them everyday."

"I know," I smiled, grimly.

"So, have you been taking the Prozac, everyday?" he asked, again.

"No."

"May I ask you why not?"

"I forget," I answered, truthfully. I had been in such a wonderful state of impassiveness this past week, that thoughts practically evaded me. And, along with my thoughts, went remembrances such as; doing homework, eating or taking my daily dosage of Prozac.

"Bella, are you aware that your mother is debating whether or not to come to Forks to take you back to Phoenix?" asked Carlisle.

My head snapped up and my eyes darted in his direction, all traces of my acidic humor, vanished. I couldn't go back to Phoenix. I wouldn't. "No," I could barely form a coherent word, in my mouth. And, my voice was so low, that I wasn't sure if he had heard me.

"She doesn't think that living here is working out for you. She thinks that you're just distancing yourself from everyone else, when what you really need, is to be around your family. And, she thinks that you would progress better, if you returned to Phoenix, to live with her and Phil."

My body quaked, involuntarily, at the mention of his name. I really needed to get out of there. Fast! I couldn't take it. Just the mere thought of being near him again was too much to bear.

I looked up at the clock and could not have been more relieved when I realized that our session was over. I rose out of my seat, dizzily, as soon as Carlisle acknowledged the time.

Though I had done a good job at keeping my expression as calm as possible, my insides were churning. My- already broken- heart was wrenching, caving in on me. I couldn't trust my voice not to falter if I uttered a single word. So, I made my way- silently- to the door.

I turned the knob, and was met by an anxious-looking Edward on the other side of the door. I stared up at him, wide-eyed, startled to see him there. I glanced away, and moved past him, through the door frame.

By the time I rounded the corner, my legs felt like Jell-O. My head was spinning. I had to keep a hand on the wall, for support. I walked outside and I felt the cold rain, pelting off my face and body. It felt oddly comforting, but not enough to bring an end to the carousel that my mind had entered.

As I reached my truck, I was out of breath. I pressed both of my hands on the wet, drivers-side door, leaning away from it with my head bowed downwards, between my arms.

I was trying to get my breathing back to normal. Hoping that if I managed to breathe efficiently, the dizziness might stop, as well.

"Bella?" I heard a cautious voice ask, from behind me. I turned around, to see a worried Edward, standing a few feet away from me. "Are you okay?"

Oh yeah, I feel like I could participate in a decathlon. No, I'm not okay! "Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little dizzy, but its starting to go away. No worries," my voice sounded weak, even to myself. I tried to muster a convincing smile, but I'm sure it came out as more of a grimace.

Edward wasn't fooled. He raised a perfect eyebrow at me, in disbelief. "You don't look fine to me. You're very pale. I think I should take you back inside," he motioned towards the hospital.

"No," I spoke, quickly. "No, no. really, I'm fine. I think I just need to head home and get some rest."

I took my keys out of my pocket, and was about to unlock the door, when I heard him speak, cautiously. "I doubt if its safe for you to drive, in this condition. I'll take you home."

Dammit, Bella! I cursed myself, for having stayed in the parking lot, instead of just leaving, right away. But, really, how was I supposed to know that he'd come after me? "I really am okay, Edward. Besides, I can't just leave my truck, here," I countered, hoping against hope, that he'd agree with me.

He sighed, frustrated. "I can not just allow you to drive when you're like this, Bella. I assure you, nothing will happen to your truck. Now, stop being stubborn and just accept my help!"

And, just who the hell does he think he is? I am perfectly capable of driving myself home! This is none of his damned business! I opened my mouth, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but my knees, suddenly buckled beneath me. I braced myself for the fall, but it never came.

I felt two, strong arms pull me into their wrought iron grasp, before I could hit the floor. I tried to suppress the shriek that I felt, building up in my throat, and let out a whimper, instead, as I fought the involuntary tears that welled up in my eyes, at his touch.

My breathing started coming in short gasps and tears were pouring over my cheeks, mingling with the rain. I fought to pull away from Edward's tight grip. He held me at arms length, steadying me by the shoulders.

I tried hard to keep from panicking. I was counting 1,2...1,2,3...1,2...1,2,3...it wasn't working. Tremors overtook my body.

My hands found their way to his wrists and I tried to push him away. He didn't budge. He was much too strong. He didn't see what his touch was doing to me. He just stared at me, a bewildered expression masking his beautiful features.

Why won't he let go? I was nearing hyperventilation, but managed to choke out a few muffled words. "Edward…p-please let -go," I pleaded.

As Edward, warily, released me, his face- in my mind- was briefly replaced by Phil's. I gasped, staggering backwards and sunk to my knees on the wet ground. I was getting soaked, but I didn't care. I buried my face in my hands, so as to muffle my sobs and hide my tears.

I felt a slight pressure on my shoulder, from his hand, but I cringed away from it. "Don't t-touch me…p-please," I stuttered, glancing up at him, for a quick second. He was on his knees too, about a foot away from me.

I was internally kicking myself for breaking down in front of Edward. Gah! What the fuck is my problem? Calm down. Just breathe. 1,2...1,2,3...1,2...

After a few minutes, the tears finally stopped and my breathing was regular. I pushed myself up, slowly, when I was positive that my little episode was over, and looked over at Edward, warily.

He stood up as well, and was now looking at me, in concern. But, I could just barely see a hint of curiosity, behind his worry.

I couldn't believe that Edward had just witnessed me in my most vulnerable state. The only person that had ever seen me that way, was Phil. He had had the pleasure of watching me, slowly wither away. Becoming just a shell of whom I once was.

I was seething, to say the least. So angry, at myself for letting him witness this. Fuck! my mind was screaming! As childish as it sounds, I just wanted to hit something. Anything. But I managed to retain my anger.

"I'm done," I stated, grimly and trudged towards his Volvo.

I was soaked to the bone and so was Edward. My legs were still wobbly and we had to stop every few moments, so that I could regain my balance.

Edward opened the passenger side door, and I slid in, silently.

Edward's POV

The drive to Bella's house was a silent one. My mind was still reeling from what had happened in the parking lot. It was all so confusing. I wanted to know what was wrong with her, but I didn't know what to say, that wouldn't upset her, more than she already was. She was so fragile. Even more so, than the average human.

But, Bella wasn't just an average human. No. She was so much more.

Bella was an angel; so pure and innocent. I felt compelled to protect her from any harm that came her way. I wanted to comfort her- so badly- but she couldn't be touched.

Bella lifted her hand up to rest on her forehead, breathing deeply. Her luscious scent wafted over me, and with it, came the single most disturbing thought that had ever crossed my mind. A thought that had been tugging at my mind for a while, but only now, decided to surface, completely.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. My skin, visibly paled, over my knuckles and if I hadn't been restraining myself, the wheel would have snapped under the pressure.

I took a deep breath, inhaling Bella's scent- once more- and forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I gazed- unseeingly- at the window, pushing the horrid thought to the depths of my mind.

We arrived at Bella's house, in a matter of minutes. She climbed out of my Volvo, muttering a "thank you" as she closed the door. I watched her make her way to the door step, and drove off.

I raced down the highway, towards my house. I had to get home, quickly, and do some more research. I tried to delude myself into believing that it couldn't be true. That it was just my morbid imagination, trying to get the best of me.

Oh how wrong that turned out to be…

(A/N)- Oooh what was Edward's horrible thought? Hmm...What'd you guys think? As promised, this chapter held Bella's session with Carlisle. Just so you know, Carlisle doesn't tell Bella's parents what goes on in their sessions. They just call him to tell him how she is progressing, or isn't.

Sorry- once again- for taking so long. And sorry if this chapter was a bit short. But, Please, Please, Pretty Please Review! Hows about we try to surpass 175??