Chapter 9.

Bella.

Things with Edward had gone downhill. So downhill, in fact, that we barely touched or spoke. I know he still loved me, I could see that in his eyes. Although they were glazed over and cold, there was a spark in them. That spark was love.

He would touch me and talk with me if he had the strength. It had been three weeks since Elizabeth's funeral, and Edward was getting paler and skinnier each day. He was losing touch with reality, going in and out of consciousness and hallucinations every few hours.

It was emotionally exhausting, sitting beside his bed and trying to get something out of him. I did this each night from five until twelve. Charlie wouldn't let me stay overnight, and I had no clue as to why. It wasn't like we were going to have sex; Edward could barely move his arms. I had to drag him to the toilet, shove water down his throat. But if it wasn't alcoholic, he wasn't interested.

I didn't know how much longer Edward would last, or how much longer I would last.

"Edward" I said softly, walking through his bedroom door. I was met with that smell that hung in the air of his room thickly. It wasn't necessarily a bad smell, but it wasn't good either. It was a mixture of tears, body odor and alcohol. It was the smell of what Edward had become, what had taken over him. It was the smell of depression.

"Bemmrhllsa" he slurred out, gesturing limply to the bottle of rum he had let fall to the floor. I sighed and, hating myself for it, scooped it up and held it to his mouth. He needed the water in it; he needed the tiny amount of nutrients it held.

I slid my bag off my shoulder and sat beside his bed, feeding my boyfriend rum like he was a baby goat. Our lives were pathetic. Edward was a useless wreck, and I was encouraging him. I had tried a few times to deny him alcohol, to make him eat and bathe, but he hated me for it. Almost as much as I hated myself for being so weak, and caving in. Giving him what he wanted. Supplying the addict with his drug.

I remembered when it seemed like I was his drug. That wasn't too long ago. He would call me, kiss me, and love me, any time of day, anywhere we were. He relied on me for strength and comfort, and I helped him.

But one day that all hit the fan. Something went wrong in his head, and since then, he has laid in bed, doing nothing, feeling nothing, except the need for alcohol.

I had ruined him, and I still couldn't stop. His relief, when taking that sip of rum, was my own drug. I needed him to drink, it was all he consumed, and I needed him to stay with me. But, there was this part inside of me which I often ignored, that knew the alcohol he was drinking each day was bringing him closer and closer to death. He would probably be better off without it, a doctor might say so, but he would not eat or drink a thing unless it was rum, wine, vodka, whiskey…

I let a tear fall down my cheek and wiped it away with my upper arm awkwardly as I kept feeding Edward his drug.

I truly and utterly hated myself. I was a monster, I was a murderer. I was killing Edward Masen.

**

"Thank you, doctor" said Charlie into his cell as I stumbled through the front doors at exactly midnight. He was sitting on his recliner, with the TV on mute, chatting and taking notes with whoever was on the other side of that call.

"Yes, yes. I will, Carlisle. Call me Charlie."

He sounded pretty chummy with this 'Carlisle'. He was a doctor? Why did Charlie need a doctor? Or maybe it was for me? There was nothing wrong with me, apart from everything, of course, but Charlie didn't know about that. Nobody did. I wouldn't complain at all, not when Edward was on his death bed. Nothing I would complain about would even compare to what he was going through.

"Who was that?" I asked Charlie, throwing my bag down on the couch and sitting down with an exhausted sigh. Charlie tucked his cell away in his back pocket and watched me silently before answering.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

"And?" I asked irritably. He said it like I was supposed to know who 'Dr. Carlisle Cullen' was.

"You've never heard of him?"

"Can't say I have…"

"He's a very well-known surgeon and psychologist. He has more degrees under his belt than any other doctor in this part of the U.S." Charlie explained. Oh, maybe I had heard of him somewhere. The name was quite familiar, but not enough for me to care.

"Oh" I mumbled. Hang on…

"Why do you need a psychologist? Or are you getting surgery? What for?" I asked, sitting up straighter. Was there something Charlie wasn't telling me?

"No. He's not for me…or you" he added, seeing the expression on my face.

It was then that I understood.

"Edward" I whispered, my eyes welling with warm tears. It was a surprise that my tear ducts were still functional, after the month I had experienced.

"Yes. You're not the only one worried about him."

Charlie was worried too. I felt a love for Charlie I had never felt before, and I rushed over to give him a big kiss on his forehead. When I pulled away, he smiled. But it was a sad sort of smile. The one you see on parents who are about to break some very bad news.

"He wants to take Edward into hospital."

"What?!" I cried out. This Dr. Cullen couldn't do that. No. Edward would rather die. He didn't want to be taken care of, he wanted alcohol. He would be miserable…more miserable. He would be taken away from me.

I was selfish.

"It's best for him, you know that, Bells" Charlie said with a frown. He was looking at me like I was being a selfish child. And I was.

"B-b-but" I began to sob, "He'll be…s-so unhappy."

"But healthy" Charlie pointed out. He had a point.

"Okay" I sighed, wiping my eyes, "Maybe it is a good idea…but I still…"

"He'll die without this, Bella."

"I know" I said, my lip trembling.

"You can tell him, if you like, that might make it less painful for him."

"Yes."

"Bella?"

"What?"

"You can go there now and tell him. Carlisle is coming at six tomorrow morning. He's leaving tomorrow."

"W-where to?"

"A hospital near by. About a fifteen minute drive, I think."

That wasn't too bad. I admitted defeat and headed back to Edward's for the last time in what I guessed would be a very, very long time.

I walked up those rickety stairs and through his splintered door into his room. He wasn't asleep. He was lying on the ground, facing the ceiling with wide eyes. It looked a bit like he was on some acid trip.

I really hoped he wasn't.

"Edward?"

He nodded his head the slightest to let me know he was aware of my presence.

"You haven't g-got good news h-have youuuh?" he asked slowly. My whole life shattered into pieces whenever I heard him speak. He sounded like a child with a disability, and it was so incredibly sad.

"No" I said quietly. My voice was strained and shaky.

"T-tell me."

"A doctor is coming tomorrow morning to take you to hospital. I'll be there every day to help. I promise" I choked on a sob. Edward didn't move or speak for what felt like days. I remained standing in his doorway, waiting for a response.

But there was none.

"Edward. I'm sorry. But I don't want you to…die."

Edward kept looking up at that stupid ceiling, never meeting my eyes. I was afraid he hated me, that this betrayal was the final straw in our relationship. Maybe he didn't love me anymore.

I didn't deserve that love, though. So I had no right to be worrying. If he didn't love me anymore, fine, it would hopefully teach me a lesson.

Though, I didn't want to be taught that lesson. I wanted to be with Edward forever. I wanted to take care of him, be his rock, and be his world, since he was mine.

"I'm sorry Edward. Goodnight."

I left his house weeping.

**

Charlie was always a terrific dad to me. Sure, he cared about me, loved me. He did all of his duties with perfection. He was everything a dad should be.

But with me, Charlie being a terrific dad just wasn't enough. I needed that advice you can only get from a mother. I needed that helping hand when I first got my period, when I started going through puberty. I needed a mother.

I cannot possibly be more grateful for having Charlie around. I'd hate to think of what my life would have been without him. He and I both knew that I was suffering without mum. Some people say, 'You can't miss what you've never had'. They are wrong. I've never had a mother, not really. She gave birth to me, went out working while Charlie stayed at home with me, and she left. Just left. So, in my opinion, Renee was never a mother to me.

I've never had a mother, yet, there I was, sitting in my room sobbing into the knees of my jeans. I needed a mother. I needed Renee. I needed her to be a mother to me. She would know exactly what to say, she just would. She would hold me and let me cry into her hair. That's what a mother would do.

I'd never missed her as much as I had then. Maybe it was because of Edward. Maybe he really was pulling me down with him.

Secretly, I knew he was, but I couldn't admit to it. I always found some excuse in my mind for him. I always defended him.

I've always been sad, it's not Edward's fault.

Having no mother has nothing to do with Edward.

He's troubled, he's going through more than I could possibly imagine, and he's not meaning to drag me into depression with him.

He would never do that to me on purpose.

I tried everything. But there was still that part of me that knew he was responsible for the mess I was now. It was selfish and unkind to think that, but I did. And I hated myself even more for it. I was a wretched person, a heartless beast.

At five the next morning, I decided to have a shower and see Edward before he would be taken away from me. I made myself look as nice as possible, not that he would notice. It just felt right to dress up, do my hair, and put on some makeup. Maybe he would finally see me as his girlfriend, and not his only means of getting alcohol.

This was another act of selfish Bella. I wanted recognition, I wanted to be acknowledged. Was it too much to ask?

Yes, it was too much to ask. I decided that when I walked into Edward's bedroom, wearing a delicate, dark blue blouse and nice jeans. He wasn't there.

I searched the bathroom; he wasn't there.

Panic grew inside of me, and I started to cry. Where was he?

I searched the living room, the kitchen, the back yard; he wasn't there.

"Edward!" I called out, scrambling through the mess that was his home. There was only one place I hadn't looked, and I feared to go in there.

Elizabeth's bedroom.

The door creaked loudly as I pushed it open. Smells of flowers and smoke ran up my nose; it was her smell. I remembered it from the first time I met her. It was a motherly smell, something I'd never smelled in my life.

"Edward?" I asked quietly, looking around blindly in her dark bedroom. The sun hadn't risen yet, so I groped the walls for a light switch. There.

Click.

I looked for Edward. That bronze hair, those green eyes, that sullen face.

He. Wasn't. There.

Edward.

I hadn't had a drink that whole night. I couldn't possibly, although my body was calling out to me, urging me to take that bottle of rum and drink it in one go. It would ease the pain, it would help me forget.

But no, I couldn't. I wouldn't turn to alcohol tonight. I needed to have a clear mind.

Bella told me I would be taken away that morning. Six am sharp. She sounded so heart broken when she told me, and I couldn't bear to look at her. I would probably end up in tears myself, and that would only depress her more.

I tried to block her out, push her away, protect her from what I had become. But she kept fucking coming back. She wouldn't quit. Every night, she poured some sweet nectar down my throat and watched me get drunker and drunker with a look of defeat on her beautiful face. It made me feel like a fucking loser.

And I deserved every inch of that feeling.

I hoped that she would have given up by now, that she would have gone back to her usual routine. I hoped she would eventually forget about me, and the fucking horrible vegetable I had become.

Hearing that I was going to some hospital soon angered me, but it brought a sense of sadness, too. Bella and her dad obviously cared about me; they showed me a care I didn't deserve by sending me away. I wasn't mad that I had to leave this house. I was actually relieved.

I was mad that I had let myself get to this state, where my last hope was twenty four hour watch at some psych ward in a hospital.

I was a fucking lowlife, alright.

Feeling like an absolute fuck, I got up groggily from my place on the floor of my bedroom. I looked sideways at the alarm clock; the bright green numbers read four thirty am. I had no doubt Bella would be coming soon, to say her goodbyes, to apologize. She had nothing to apologize for. I was the one who needed to.

Okay, look, I was essentially a deadshit. All the way through. You can pick up a rotten apple, polish it so it shines, but inside it's still brown and mushy. You can't change that. Bella had to know that I was a rotten apple, and although for a while she had kept me shiny, the polish was wearing off. The brown, rotten interior of me was seeping out for all to see.

She would see that in forty-odd minutes, when she would burst into my room to find me gone. She would probably search the whole fucking house, calling out for me. I hoped it wouldn't take her too long to realise I had left Phoenix. Forever.

I didn't tell anybody about the visit I had been paid the day before. Somehow I managed to stumble to the front door and swing it open. A serious-looking man in a navy blue suit stepped into my house and started talking about my mum's will.

She had left me over two hundred thousand dollars.

Why hadn't she used that money while we were struggling? The answer was obvious. She knew she was going to kill herself some day, and she wanted to leave me with as much money as possible. I couldn't pick whether the money was a sign of her trying to compensate for her suicide, or just a general need to provide for me, even from beyond the grave.

The shock had worn off, and in my bank now rested two hundred thousand dollars, begging to be used.

I called a taxi and packed a few things. My suitcase had only five items.

A bottle of vodka, a packet of menthol cigarettes, a lighter, a sheet of paper containing the song I had written for Bella, and her school photo. I cut it out of the year book from the previous year. She looked a little younger, maybe even a little healthier, but it was still Bella. I picked up my light suitcase, grabbed my guitar and headed out of the door.

The taxi arrived not long after. The man driving was of Indian decent, I guessed, and was a pretty fucking nice guy. Except his whole cab smelled like incense, giving me a headache.

"Where to?" he asked, fiddling with the meter. The numbers under 'cost' were already clicking up, and he wasn't even driving.

Cabbies were fucking cheats.

"Phoenix I-I-International" I said, trying not to stutter or slur. Most of that was caused by my lack of sleep and my abuse of alcohol.

"Sure" said the cabbie, taking off in the direction of the airport.

It didn't take too long to get there. The taxi ride was expensive, but the cabbie was nice, so I threw one hundred dollars at him that I found in my mother's bedside drawer, and left without taking the change.

It took a long time going through bag searches and purchasing my ticket, and the plane ride was even worse. I sat in a window seat, next to a sweating, obese woman who smelled of shit. I watched the clouds and the occasional bird fly past through the small window.

I tried the whole time not to think of who I was leaving behind.

**

"Good morning passengers, this is your pilot speaking, we'll be arriving at Seattle airport in a few minutes. May I please remind you to buckle your seatbelts and remain seated, thank you."

Not long now. The woman next to me was struggling to buckle up, and I couldn't help but smirk. She'd eaten about five slices of cake, and consumed six cans of Coke during the flight. If she ate like that at home, no wonder she was too fucking fat to do up her seatbelt. She ended up holding onto her seatbelt, like it was going to make a difference. If the plane crashed, we would die. No seatbelts were saving anybody.

The plane hit the landing strip with a small lunge forward, and soon I was standing outside of Seattle airport, trying to hail another taxi. Frustrated, I lit up a cigarette and sat on the curb. Was there some freak fucking accident in Seattle that left no taxis spared?

Finally, a taxi rolled up next to me and I practically jumped into it. Before the fat driver could bullshit and fuck around, ask me how I was, where I wanted to go. I simply cut him off.

"Forks" I said curtly, rolling down the window and breathing in the smoke from the cigarette hanging out of my smiling mouth. Maybe I was insane to be smiling at a time like this, but I missed Forks. It was always my home.

I wondered if my old friends were still here, attending school like I should be. Mike Newton, Tyler Crowley, Eric Yorkie, Ben Cheney. Ah, those dudes were the fucking bomb when I lived here. I snorted out loud when I remember the shit we got into. Once, we filled one of the guy's toilet bowls with firecrackers and set them off. The principle went ape shit, and we all got suspended for a week. That was one of the best weeks of my life. All we did was hang out, smoke weed and watch porn. Those were the days, when I didn't have a thing to worry about, except for getting in trouble from my parents. I wasn't a shit kid; I just liked to have fun.

"Here we are kid, Forks, that's…"

I threw another hundred dollars at the cabbie, and he shut his mouth, taking the money without question. Fucking cheat.

I stepped out of the taxi and it sped off into the distance. I had no money left now, so my first stop was the bank. I wondered how much they would let me take out? A couple of thousand, maybe?

I remembered the streets perfectly, each shop bringing back fond memories. There were some new faces in town, and a lot of familiar ones. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and pulled my hood up to avoid being seen. I would clean myself up before seeing any of my old friends again, otherwise they would see me and instantly think 'He looks like a fucking nutcase'.

I never got to the bank, however. I was stopped on the way by a gorgeous blond girl. Her hair was dancing in the cool breeze; her face was pale and stunning, her body curvy and delicious. But it was her eyes that got me. A perfect topaz/golden-brown colour. They almost sparkled when she looked at me.

"Edward Masen?" she asked. Her voice was soft and perfect. Just perfect. It reminded me a bit of Bella's. No, I wouldn't think of her. I had to let her move on.

"Yes?" I asked, peering at her over my black sunnies. She smiled at me and gestured for me to follow her. Was this a hallucination? Could a girl this beautiful actually be real?

We walked down a road just off the main road, and she didn't say a word to me until she stopped suddenly. We were at the edge of the forest.

Was she going to take me in there, have sex with me? Kill me, even? Either would be okay with me.

"What do you want?"

"Carlisle!" she called out, "I have your boy!"

She sounded bitter, and that perfection of her voice was lost. There was something icy and menacing about her tone. I didn't like it.

She was going to kill me. Carlisle was going to help her, whoever he was. I was a goner.

But that would probably be the best for everyone.

A man stepped out from behind a thick wall of ferns. His blond hair was the same shade of the girl's, and his eyes the same colour. I would almost say they were twins, but he looked a bit older. Both of them stood before me, their pale skin setting an eerie contrast to the dark greenery behind them.

"Wh-what do you want?" I asked again. The man I presumed to be Carlisle smiled warmly at me. I already liked him better than the girl.

"Rosalie, you may leave now."

So this Rosalie girl was just bait? Carlisle was going to kill me now.

"My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I was supposed to collect you from your house this morning, but it seems you ran off on me" he said, smiling still. There was nothing funny about what he was saying, but he still looked amused.

"And?"

"I would like to offer you a way out" his smile faltered and his eyes turned from pleased to serious. I stepped back an inch.

"I'm not here to harm you, Edward. I want to help. I'm not going to take you back to Phoenix. Actually, I'm not going to force you to do anything. I just want to show you…"

He moved back to the wall of the forest behind him and clamped his hand around a thick tree trunk. I was really fucking confused.

"I can offer you a better life. I hate to see somebody as pure and kind as you, turn into something so helpless and sad" he turned his attention to the tree he was holding, and with the slightest movement of his wrist, the tree was out of the ground and in his right hand. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. I had nothing to say. He was some kind of fucking freak of nature.

Carlisle set down the tree and watched me cautiously. Whenever he looked at me I got the feeling he was studying me, trying to understand me. I didn't know if I liked that or not.

I was ready to run away, leave, and never come back. But my legs were stuck. Something inside of me told me to stay. This man was offering me 'a better life'.

"Edward, there are things humans don't know, such as yourself. I'm breaking rules here today, as I am letting you in on one of the best concealed secrets of the modern world. I am a vampire."

My stomach flipped, turned, churned, whirled. My head spun around until I felt like I was going to fucking throw up all over the vampire dude. He was insane. Vampires weren't fucking real.

Carlisle was suddenly right behind me. How did he do that?

"You know it's true" he stated kindly, "And you have this desire for a better life. I want to help you. I've been reading up about you, asking about you. I know a lot about you, Edward Masen."

This guy was really fucking freaking me out. He did understand me.

"You want to escape, and, as selfish as it is of me, I want to give you that escape. A new life…"

"My life is okay" I lied. My hands started their usual shaking. Not from nerves, but from the craving of alcohol. My tongue felt heavy and strangely sticky with the desire for a drink.

"You're dying, Edward. You won't last long" he said sadly, "You'll drink yourself to death."

"What? And you can 'save me'?" I asked sarcastically.

"I can, but only with your consent."

"How?" I was starting to believe him.

"By making you like me, like Rosalie, like my family."

"There's more of you?"

My heart was thumping against my rib cage at an alarming rate. I was ready to pass out.

"Yes. What do you say?"

I did the stupidest fucking thing I could have done. I said yes to a complete stranger. A vampire. I let him make me one of them.

He appeared in front of me again, holding out a pale hand.

"Let me take you to my home, and we will get things going."

It is possible that, from the immense harm I'd no doubt done to my brain, that I had some kind of brain damage, that I had lost the ability to reason and to analyze risks. I followed the vampire man, Carlisle, to his home. I let him sink his teeth into the base of my neck without a second though. Maybe it wasn't brain damage, but the desperation that was coursing through me, begging for a better life, begging for a new start, something different.

I felt the burning pain that would soon bring relief. The fire that raged through my body, it was worse than I could have imagined. I thought I was in pain before. I had no idea what pain was.

I awoke three days later as a vampire.

A/N: I know it seems a bit unrealistic that Edward believes Carlisle so easily, and is so ready to throw his life away. I think you just have to understand his state of mind. He's really fucked up, he wants to forget his whole human life, he wants to forget Bella and what he's done to her. It's quite selfish, but it makes for an easily-written fic on my behalf. He is so desperate to leave everything behind, that he would probably just kill himself if he could be bothered. He's not exactly suicidal; just lonely, bored, angry, scared. So, becoming a vampire is the easy way out, or so he thinks...

I'd like to thank everybody who has faved this of reviewed. I like to hear your thoughts!

The next chapter or two will be purely Edward POV, for obvious reasons.