Insomnia

Chapter 10

It took me several seconds to figure out that the screaming that had woken me up was coming from me. It took me another ten seconds to calm down enough to close my mouth and cut off the alarming sound.

Taking a shaky breath, I opened my eyes and immediately realized that I had no clue where I was. The last thing I could remember was being dragged to my feet by Jasper.

I glanced around me, and quickly realized that I was in a living room of sorts. I was sitting on a beige leather couch, a thick, fluffy duvet taking up the parts of the long piece of furniture that I didn't. I was shivering despite the fact that I was no long in my soaking wet clothes, clad now in a sweater that was about ten times too big, and too-long plaid pajama bottoms.

In my peripheral vision, I caught a flash movement, and instinctively turned to face it. Jasper had quite literally appeared out of nowhere, and was now standing next to the couch. Instead of being startled, I felt relieved - I wasn't alone in this strange place. My relief only lasted for a few moments, though, when I remembered why I was in this alien room in the first place.

Reality came crashing down upon me, forcing me out of my dreamy state. I barely choked back a sob. Losing it in front of Jasper again was not acceptable. But, once more, I lost my grip on myself and broke down in tears, hiding my face in my knees in some foolish hope that he would overlook this and act as though I was fine, even though I clearly was not. Fate seemed to take pity on me, because I did manage to restrain myself enough to prevent the sobs building in my chest from breaking through.

I wasn't sure how long Jasper sat with unending patience beside me, but eventually I was calm enough to speak coherently.

"Where am I?" I sniffled, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of the large grey sweater, wondering why I even bothered trying to pretend I was okay. He was, after all, an empath.

"My living room. You're wearing Bella's clothes - we didn't have anything in your size," he explained apologetically. I nodded slowly, taking in the information. So I might get to meet the compassionate Carlisle and Esme he had once spoken so fondly of. My outlook brightened considerably, though immediately darkened once more as I was overcome by a coughing fit. Yet again, I had been stupid and gotten myself sick.

"Ugh," I groaned, my chest aching, moreso than usual, "just what I needed."

"Yes, Carlisle thinks you have pneumonia." Jasper frowned. "What were you doing that far into the woods, anyways?"

"I honestly didn't notice. For all I knew, I could've taken three steps out of the front door." I paused, before adding, "I was a bit upset."

He remained silent, respectful of my earlier wishes. Earlier I had wanted to keep the subject from coming up, but now I just wanted someone to know. "Go on. I can't keep it to myself anymore."

"What happened to you, Alice?" he asked, much like he had on the night I had waited for him on the curb. It was obvious that he wasn't just asking about what had upset me recently - he understood that I was hurt, and deeply. It wasn't just some petty drama with my family. It was more than that, and we both knew it. What pained me the most was that it was my fault. I had let everything build up inside of me, escalate to the breaking point, and now I was paying the price.

"I've told you before that it's a long story. So don't say that I didn't warn you," I cautioned.

"Something's hurting you. I want to know what it is," Jasper encouraged.

I sucked in a deep breath before beginning. "Well, it started at a young age. Everything does. As I've told you, I've always had precognitive dreams. They were more frequent when I was younger - nowadays I only have them about fifty-five percent of the time. I never told anyone about them, even as a child, for reasons I can't remember. A few years ago, I told my little sister, Cynthia, everything. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer, and she was the person I trusted the most in the world. I had done everything with her - she's my best friend. Always has been. I looked after her a lot when she was younger, because my mom was always exhausted and my dad went to work early in the morning and was home late at night.

"A few years ago, Ibecame the early riser. I was convinced that if I didn't sleep, I would be normal. I wanted to be free of my ability. My parents didn't know anything about it, but sometimes I caught the way my father would look at me, like he knew I was different. I tried to meet his approval, but sometimes it felt like nothing I did was right. We argued a lot. I thought that maybe if I didn't I didn't sleep, I wouldn't have my visions, and we might finally get along. It was hard at first to keep myself awake, but eventually I fell into a pattern. I didn't realize what I was doing to myself - all that I knew was that what I was doing was working. For a while, I was almost rid of my visions.

"At one point, I found it impossible to stay awake. That was a few days before my grandmother died. I was terrified of my dreams, then - no one wants to fall asleep and dream of horrific car crashes. I hadn't realized it at the time, but I was witnessing my own grandmother's death before it happened. I tried everything to stay awake during that time: drinking pots upon pots of coffee, pinning my eyes open, dumping ice down my back..." I paused, hesitant about telling him the next part. I wasn't proud of what I had done to myself. "I... I even cut myself a few times, hoping that the pain would keep me from dozing off." Almost without thinking about what I was doing, I traced the long scars that ran along my arm with the tips of my fingers, though they were concealed now by the sweater I wore. Jasper's expression darkened.

"Nothing worked, and I was about ready to give up, but right after my grandma's funeral I fell back into my old habits again," I continued. "I was thrilled at first, but I knew I would have to sleep sometime, and that frightened me. I had convinced myself by that point that my parents would no longer want me if they found out I was psychic. I knew that someday I would see something and be unable to keep it to myself, sure, but I until that time I was willing to do anything to keep my secret just that, a secret. Of course, my parents didn't seem to mind that I had insomnia, so after a while I began to wonder if they really would care at all, or if they would just ignore it like they ignored all of my other quirks. I tried to sleep again, but it was virtually impossible to rewire my brain. So, for the next five years, I learned to live with the consequences of my actions. I strived to do well in school, working late into the night on assignments for lack of better things to do, and I tried my hardest to give my sister the life I had deprived myself of. It worked, for a while. I felt almost happy.

"One day, my father and I were arguing again. I had gone off without his permission at night, finally having had enough of being cooped up in my room every night, and I don't really know what happened, but when he asked what my problem was, everything kind of just... spilled out. He just kind of stared at me for a while, and then his inner doctor seemed to switch on and he was calmly asking me what other 'visions' I'd had. After that, he went and talked to my mom for a long time. I was hysterical - I knew what they would be talking about. All of my worst nightmares were coming true.

"The next morning, my parents sat me down at the dining table and presented me with two alternatives: either I attend a nearby school for the mentally ill, or I fly here to receive treatment from the world-class psychiatrist, Dr. Campbell. At that point, I was beyond furious and wanted nothing more than to be out of there. I didn't even consider Cynthia before I told them I wanted to come here.

"My mom called just before you found me. She thought she would phone to remind me of my first psychiatric appointment on Monday. I think she expected me to be happy that she'd called, to welcome her back with open arms. She hasn't tried to make any contact with me since I left, so I just assumed that she was content to ignore me and stay out of my life for as long as possible. I was wrong, obviously. Now I'm doubting myself, wondering if I really am crazy - it almost makes sense that I am. I've destroyed my own life by letting my selfishness control everything. I haven't even spoken to my sister since I left. I'm a horrible person, Jasper," I finished quietly, a few tears slipping down my cheeks. I hurriedly brushed them away.

I didn't bother looking up as Jasper wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to his side. I leaned into his chest, not bothered by the silence between us in the least. In fact, if I'd been given the choice, I would have liked for the moment never to end. He made me feel more secure than I had in weeks. That, and this was the closest I'd ever been to him before.

"You're not, you know," he murmured. I understood what he meant, but I didn't believe him. Unfortunately for me, he could sense my mood as easily as I could. "Don't doubt yourself, Alice. You did nothing to deserve any of what's happened you, and you owe it to yourself to live life to its fullest from now on. If you're not willing to do that for yourself, I will personally ensure that it is done for you by someone, somewhere."

I wished I could believe him. If only he understood that I had done everything to deserve what had happened to me, what I had let happen to me...

With a sigh, I said, "Believe me, I've tried. It's not easy, not for me, anyways. I don't know if I even can anymore."

He pulled back to look me in the eyes. "You can." I was surprised by the confidence in his voice. "I've seen flickers of what you were like. You're still in there, somewhere, but you're pushing it back. Every time you start to open up, something turns on inside you and you shrink back into your shell."

So he'd noticed. I'd been trying hard to appear normal in my short time in Forks, but apparently not hard enough. No matter what I said or did, I would always be different from the norm. If I had been meant to be normal, why would I have been given my accursed second sight?

"I know." I looked down at my hands before adding in a smaller voice, "I try, Jasper, really, but it will never be enough. Maybe there's something wrong with me."

Jasper propped me up so that I was facing him again. "There is nothing wrong with you."

I looked down, avoiding his eyes. He sighed, and then let me lay down again, realizing that he wasn't going to get a response out of me, let alone change my mind. I curled into him, closing my eyes.

I slept on and off for the rest of the afternoon, drifting almost happily in and out of consciousness, ignoring my pounding headache and trying to pretend that I wasn't sick.

Still half-asleep, I vaguely registered the conversation going on around me.

"I think she's okay. I mean, she doesn't feel too sick. But that's probably because she's resting," said a voice that I easily identified to belong to Jasper.

"Would you mind waking her up so we can be sure? I wouldn't want her to become more ill than she is," another male voice replied, one that I didn't recognize.

"Oh, she's awake. Barely, though."

Moments later, I felt a pair of strong arms propping me up. I sighed, but allowed myself to be moved. "You don't seem to grasp the importance of sleep, Jasper," I griped, "seeing as you don't need it and all."

He grinned in apology. "Sorry, but someone needs to make sure you're not fatally ill."

I turned to look at the blonde man standing in front of us, assuming that he was Jasper's adoptive father. "You must be Carlisle. I'm Alice," I introduced myself, leaning forwards slightly to extend a hand, which he shook with a hand that was about twice the size of mine.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He smiled down at me briefly before turning and rummaging through a bag that I hadn't noticed earlier. I couldn't help but wonder where the 'finally' had come from - it made it sound as though I was someone who mattered, someone worth thinking about.

Seconds later, he emerged with a miniature flashlight clasped between his fingers. "Now, Alice, open your mouth and say 'ah'," he instructed, shining the light down my throat.

He finished the checkup quickly, though it was delayed somewhat by the fact that halfway through I began coughing again. It was, thankfully, controllable, though it further confirmed the suspicion that I did, indeed, have pneumonia. Carlisle, as if reading my mind, announced that I had been stricken with the illness, and that it would be best for me to stay home from school for a few days. I scowled, internally cursing myself for being so stupid.

Not that it was anything out of the ordinary.

"I really need to stop going out in the rain," I sighed. "I hate to think what would've happened if you hadn't found me. You never did tell me how you managed that, anyways." I eyed Jasper suspiciously. "How is it that you always find me in the worst state possible?"

Jasper waved a hand in the general direction of Carlisle's retreating form. "We heard someone wandering around, farther into the woods than usual, and I was nominated by Carlisle to be the one to go and make sure no one died," he explained. "You just happened to be the first person I saw. I assumed it was you we heard."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, that was probably me." Pausing, I glanced down at the clothes that hung about two inches from my body. Scowling, I said, "Believe it or not, I am capable of looking like a normal human being. I'll have to thank Esme for picking up some more fitting clothes when she gets back from Port Angeles," I added, not seeing anything wrong with my statement until I noticed the strange look Jasper was giving me.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm still getting used to the fact you're psychic. I keep forgetting," admitted Jasper, ducking his head embarrassedly.

"Oh." I gazed at him thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Do you find it weird? I could try to keep my mouth shut," I offered.

He shot me an odd look. "No, I don't find it weird at all. I think it's a wonderful gift to be blessed with."

"Well, I find it weird," I said. "But I guess my visions are good in some ways - I hardly ever run out of things to draw in my free time, providing I've dreamt recently. It's really boring being the only person awake in the house - I tend go through sketchbooks quickly for lack of better things to do." Automatically, I glanced around me, only to realize that my sketchbook was back at the Webers' house, along with various other things I would have liked to have had. I resisted the urge to pout.

Jasper seemed to read my mind. "We have some paper that you could use, if you'd like," he said. Though I would have liked more than anything to have something to draw on, I hesitated.

"Wouldn't that be boring for you, though?"

He shook his head, his expression almost eager. "I actually like watching you draw," he admitted, his tone a trifle embarrassed. "It's interesting."

I fought to hide how happy that simple fact made me, but soon enough a grin had spread across my face. It was rather silly that such a small thing could cheer me up so entirely, but I didn't care. I was happy, purely so, and I was damn well going to enjoy the feeling while it was here.

"Well then, in that case, you'd have my undying gratitude if you could provide paper," I told him. He disappeared for a split second, faster than I had time to blink twice, returning with a reasonably sized pad of paper and a sketching pencil. I squealed happily, throwing my arms around him as I did to anyone who caught me in a moment of joy.

"Oops." I blushed. "Sorry. It's sort of an automatic reflex."

He merely chuckled and sat down beside me.

Thoroughly looking forward to drawing the beautiful woman from one of the many short dreams I had experienced today, otherwise known as Esme Cullen, I immediately set to drawing a rough outline.

Not long after I began adding the finer details of the drawing the very woman in question poked her head into the room, her eyes glowing as she glanced between Jasper and I. My face immediately lit up at mere sight of the distinctly motherly figure.