-Forty- Hours Ago-

I should have known that going insane would not be easy. But, somehow, I had thought that admitting my crookedness to myself would fix me. Of course, I was wrong.

Knowing that I was crazy just made most things worse.

The knowledge had stuck with me like a bad cold as I had waded through the hall at school, as I had smiled at Angela Webber when she waved at me, as I had turned in a short report on the biodiversity of Arizona. It had caused me to hide out in the bathroom and let out great, heaving sobs as I heard the voice, over and over-

What are you doing, Bella?

"Go away," I had said unevenly, gasping for breath. My head had hurt, and my arm throbbed with pain. I had tugged my sleeve further down, hiding the spreading, silver marks from my eyesight.

You're being a little childish, aren't you? Is hiding out in the bathroom really going to do any good against me?

"It's not you I'm worried about," I had told him.

"Bella?" I had heard a semi-familiar voice. "Is that you?"

Clutching my hands to my stomach, I didn't answer.

Admit defeat, James had whispered. You know there isn't anything you can do to get away from me.

"Bella?" One of the nicer girls in the school-Jordan, I think-had knocked on my stall. "Are you in there? Are you all right?"

"Yes," I had said thickly, hoping she wouldn't notice that my feet weren't in the right place; I was slumped on the floor, not perched on the toilet seat.

"Okay," Jordan had said, and left with a hesitant shuffle of her high-top sneakers.

See?

"No, I don't," I had muttered, even though I knew he wasn't real.

No one knows you're here, Bella, and no one can be bothered to come find you.

"I told Alice and Angela that I wasn't feeling well," I had said stubbornly, pressing the back of my head into the wall. I had closed my eyes against the ache that seemed to surround my head. I had realized that I was very thirsty, but I couldn't find the strength to get up.

"I have to get up," I had told myself firmly, "or Alice will see this, and she'll be worried. Then, she'll tell Edward-"

Ah, Edward. And how is he doing, these days?

"Go away!"

And, then, before I knew it, I had purposefully punched the wall behind me with my stitched hand. I had nearly screamed when I felt some skin on my fingers break. As I had pulled back my twice-injured hand, I had lifted my head to listen for that genteel, mocking voice, sure to take advantage of my weakened state.

I had heard nothing.

From that one instance, I had found a solution to my problem. So, I smashed my hand against the wall one more time, to test my theory. As my own blood beaded up along my knuckles, I had listened hard for that hated sound.

I had heard nothing, and had walked out of the bathroom with a bleeding fist and a relieved smile.

Author's Note: Yes, another anti-climatic chapter. I am a master at killing the suspense.

I was actually going to write another chapter and post it, too, about an hour ago...But then I got a massive headache and had to stop. Now that I have revived somewhat, I might try to soldier on.

Song for this chapter: Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig van Beethoven .com/watch?v=7Qqib2eDweE&ob=av3n (I love this song; it's my favorite. This is why I try to fit it somewhere within all my chaptered fics.)

I hope you enjoyed!