So, I've been gone an incredibly long time, I know. I'm sorry! I just didn't know what to write to be entirely honest. So I decided I needed a break. And, one day, out of the blue, it hit me. It's hilarious because for the whole time I was gone, I was debating between Jasper's POV or Bella's. And I ended up choosing Alice's. Oh, life. Thanks to everyone who offered to help; I promise next time I will take it instead of totally secluding myself.

And I've decided to recognize some awesome reviewers every chapter. This way, I can hopefully recognize every single one of you because you're all incredibly amazing :) This chapter, I would love to make shout outs to bookfan6196 (I hate bad grammar too), SarcasticLost (for the review that made me laugh and for offering to help me), amandakins (for her enthusiasm), and fabm21 (for her fabulous questions). And to everyone else who messaged me asking questions about the previous super confusing chapter. I'm a little backed up because I haven't been on this thing for a month or so now. I will try to answer your questions ASAP, promise :)

I hope all of you enjoy this chapter because let me tell you, it took a lot for me to write it. It was extremely hard.

And, as you know, reviews/questions/suggestions/criticism is always appreciated :)

Alice POV

"Edward…" I heard Jasper's voice whisper, quietly. I could feel Edward's eyes slowly moving in Jasper's direction, locking onto his face. He stared at Jasper, blankly, for a moment, unable to recognize him. I was facing Jasper, blush spreading across my usually creamy complexion. I swallowed, loudly, and started to open my mouth to explain.

But he didn't want to hear it. He didn't want it explained to him. He didn't want to understand.

"Get out," he commanded, his voice stronger than ever. He pointed with a weak hand towards the door. He wanted us out of his sight.

I moved towards Jasper, quickly, an arm outstretched. My eyes, now shining sorrow, distress, and regret, were starting to well with tears. I bit my quivering lips, trying to stop myself from crying.

He couldn't even look at me. He turned his head in the other direction, towards the window, closing his eyes tightly. His voice sounded harsher than before. "Leave."

My eyes never left the floor as I exited the room, leaving Jasper and Edward alone.

One hour. Twenty two minutes. And three seconds.

One hour. Twenty two minutes. And four seconds.

One hour. Twenty two minutes. And five seconds.

My eyes were focused, solely, on the oversized digital clock in the waiting room. It had felt like eternity since Edward had kissed me, since Jasper couldn't bare to look at me, since I had left the hospital room without a fight, too ashamed to even stand up for myself. It had felt like eternity, but it had only been one hour, twenty two minutes, and six seconds, and counting.

I planned to charge back into the room and demand Jasper to speak to me. I planned to call Emmett and ask him about his search for his long, not so lost son. I planned to pay a visit to the local mall for some serious retail therapy. I planned to drop off a big tub of Bella's favorite chocolate ice cream at the Swan residence. I had planned to execute all of these things today, but every single one of the plans fell through.

I couldn't move from the tacky, faux leather chair in the waiting room long enough to drag myself to the snack machine five feet away. I couldn't pull my thoughts away from Jasper's angry, but hurt face long enough to focus on anything else. I couldn't feel anything, not my hands on the armrests, not my feet shaking on the tile floor, not my head pressed against the plain, white walls. I just couldn't.

It had been one hour, twenty five minutes, and nine seconds when Edward appeared in the waiting room, scanning the various guests, with two cans of Pepsi in his hands. When his eyes finally fell on me, he nodded to me in acknowledgement and dragged his body towards me. He wasn't taking it well, either.

Edward had barely settled in his seat when I heard myself asking in a hoarse, weak voice, "How is he?"

Without moving his eyes from the floor, he opened one of the Pepsi cans without thinking. He closed his eyes, taking a long, slow sip. "Not good. Not good at all."

When he opened his eyes, he stretched out his arm, offering me a can. I took it from him although I had no intention of drinking it. I wasn't thirsty. I wasn't much of anything.

"Don't…don't blame yourself, Alice." Edward swallowed, harshly. He still stared at the floor as he spoke; it was too hard for him otherwise. His voice strained as he continued, choking back tears. "It is all of my fault."

Instinctually, I wrapped an arm around him, trying my best to comfort him. I didn't know how much it would help, considering I wasn't the teeniest bit happy myself. I leaned my head against his shoulder, breathing in and out, deeply. "It is no one's fault."

"No." Edward shook his head, fiercely, his emerald eyes ablaze. "I fuck up everything. I have hurt every single person that I have ever loved."

I shook my head, just as fiercely. "That isn't true, Edward."

He grunted, pulling away from me. "Just stick around and you'll find out."

I sighed, leaning back into the uncomfortable chair. It felt like I was continuously fighting a losing battle. Sometimes, I wondered why I bothered.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Edward's eyes were focused on me, intently. He was leaning forward, closer to me, so close that I could smell his very distinct, yet indescribable scent.

"I don't believe you." I folded my arms across my chest, demonstrating that I stood firmly against his argument. I cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

He shook his head, laughing harshly. "Do you want proof?"

Without another word, he pulled a picture out of a hidden pocket inside of his jacket. He held the picture with two careful fingers, admiring it for a moment, before shoving it in my face.

I replicated the care he had shown the picture, taking it with my thumb and index finger, cautiously, as if it would self destruct. I squinted, examining the picture as best I could. It was a picture taken five or so years ago; its once sharp, pointy edges were now rounded and soft. If I didn't know any better, I would say that Edward cared for the picture, and the people in it very much, so much that he carried it around with him everywhere.

My eyes moved to the two people standing in the center of the picture, hugging each other tightly, smiles pressed on both of their faces. One was a woman, her long hair was dark with unruly curls, going on and on for miles. Her nose was small and delicate as were her lips, hands, and feet. Her eyes were a shade of bright green, sparkling and glittering in the sunlight. She was absolutely beautiful. Standing next to her, with an arm wrapped around her, was a small boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years old. He was chubby and small, without a single hair on his head. He was smiling largely, looking truly happy, as if he had everything he could have ever asked for. He had inherited his eyes from his mother, a sparkling, beautiful shade of emerald.

And as I stared at the picture, I felt my mouth drop open. I looked up at Edward, his emerald eyes shimmering in the bright hospital lights. I couldn't believe it.

Edward nodded, closing his eyes. "Yes, that's me."

"And your mother," I asserted, without any doubt in my mind. I glanced down at the picture, once again. "She is beautiful, Edward."

He swallowed, his eyes roving around the waiting room. He was avoiding my eyes. He couldn't look at me. "She is dead."

I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from saying the quintessential "I'm so sorry". If I had learned anything from my grandfather's death, I had learned that hearing an "I'm so sorry", no matter how genuine or sincere it was, never, ever helped. Instead I blurted out the most insensitive question, "How?"

He could barely choke out his next two words. "Breast cancer."

There were no words. There were no words that I could say to make Edward feel better. There were no words that I could say to comfort him. There were absolutely no words. So I didn't say anything; I just gently placed my hand on his and squeezed it, letting him know that I was there.

After a long period of silence, I could tell that he was finally ready to speak. I had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to me, but I knew, with all of my heart, that I would listen to him.

"When I was twelve, the doctor told me and my parents that I had leukemia." He swallowed, again. He rested his palm against his forehead, shutting his eyes, tightly, as if the memory was too much for him to bear. "I went through some treatments, lost all of my hair, and gained twenty pounds."

He drew in a deep breath before continuing. His breaths were so jagged and uneven it sounded as if he were suffocating on air. "My mother found out she had breast cancer three months later, but she refused to receive any treatments. She and my father couldn't afford them...not after paying for my treatments. Instead, she stayed in the hospital with me, every day, and took care of me. She wouldn't leave; it just made her sicker. But she wouldn't leave."

His voice grew quieter and quieter as he went on. His fists were clenched; his lips were set in a grimace. His eyes were dark and cold, distant and faraway. He blinked, suddenly, finally finding his way back to the present.

"Jasper, he is such a good friend. He knew that my mom was suffering and I don't know how he did it, but he paid for her treatment." Edward smiled for a moment at the thought. Then, his smile vanished, as if he had just remembered the end of his story.

"As her health was getting better, mine worsened She insisted on staying with me instead of continuing treatments and…" He paused for a moment, unable to go on. His face was contorted into the most pained expression that I had ever seen. It looked as if it just hurt to breathe.

"She died several months later. Because of me." Now, his voice was laced with venom, drowning out the sadness that once inhibited it. He shook his head. "I would do anything to have her back. Anything."

Silence filled the room, once again. I didn't look at him. He didn't look at me. We both sat together, yet alone, in the waiting room, avoiding each other's eyes. We were afraid of what we would see.

"My dad started to work a lot. He couldn't stand being around me; I reminded him too much of her. Now, he is a millionaire…but not a father." He was still avoiding my eyes, afraid that I would validate his hate for himself. His voice was so quiet that I didn't know if he was talking to me or himself. "He hates me."

He wiped his eyes with unforgiving hands. "And now, Jasper does, too."

I squeezed Edward's hand, expressing my disagreement and the fact that I was still there, listening to him, all at once. I tried to smile when he turned to look at me, but I couldn't lift the corners of my lips even a little.

"He was always there for me. And I repay him by kissing the girl of his dreams." The intense look in his eyes scared me. It was a look of lunacy or self hatred or perhaps both. He brushed a frantic hand through his hair, relentlessly. He looked desperate like a man who had just realized that he had lost everything.

"I have to go," he screamed in a whisper. Without warning, he jumped up from his seat and started running in the direction of the parking lot.

Two hours. Fifteen minutes. Nine seconds.

Two hours. Fifteen minutes. Ten seconds.

Two hours. Fifteen minutes. Eleven seconds.

After two hours, fifteen minutes, and twelve seconds, I decided to sneak back into Jasper's room, just to check on him. To make sure he was alive and breathing. To make sure he was okay.

I opened the door, slowly, knowing that it was prone to creak, and tiptoed inside, careful to close it, gently. I snuck over to his bedside where he was laying, peacefully, like an angel. He was beautiful, so beautiful, inside and out.

I smiled as I placed my hand onto his. It felt perfect. It was perfect.

I closed my eyes. Everything was perfect when it was just the two of us.

As I drove home, I couldn't erase the look of sheer panic, pain, and despair in Edward's eyes. It haunted me as I wove around the streets of Forks so I decided within the first five minutes of my drive home that I would stop at Edward's house, check up on him, and take it from there. The only problem was I had absolutely no idea where his house was and the only person who would know was lying asleep in a hospital bed.

It didn't take me long to find Edward's house. Living in a small town does have its advantages, although few and far between.

I saw his Volvo parked haphazardly outside of the mansion he called home. Coming from a guy that felt antsy if his AP Calculus graphs weren't completely perfect, straight lines, it didn't seem like Edward to park in that manner unless something was wrong.

Feeling a rather strange, anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, I parked my car on the sidewalk and walked up a long pathway to the front door. I couldn't help but feel like I was a character in a horror movie. I could hear the eerie music playing softly in the background. I started to wonder if I was the stupid girl walking into a trap. Every movie had one.

As I started to near the front steps, I pushed the thoughts out of my head and hoped to God not.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

I stopped in my tracks, instinctively. My heart beating, wildly, in my chest. I could hear the eerie music grow louder and louder.

The door was swung wide open.

Without any hesitation, I rushed inside, my heart pounding inside of my chest. I stopped, shortly as I looked around, finding everything in its place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Until I heard the sound of water.

Running water.

From upstairs.

I quickly dashed up the stairs, following the sound of the water. I could hear the eerie, dramatic music begin to heighten and grow exponentially louder. I hoped there wasn't someone screaming at the television screen, telling me to go back.

The music in my head stopped as the sound of the water reached an all time high.

And then, nothing. It was quiet, too quiet.

I swallowed, nervously, as I tiptoed down the long, secluded hallway in front of me. The only sound I could hear was my breathing, sharply in and out, in and out.

Halfway down the corridor, I felt something, squishing underneath my feet and between my toes. My heart skipped a beat as I lowered my eyes.

I sighed a breath of relief as I realized it was water, just water.

I stopped, dead in my tracks, as I followed the water with my eyes. It was rushing out from underneath a chipped, faded door on my right.

I clenched my fist, nervously, as I quickly pressed my ear against the door, listening for anything.

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

"Edward!," I whispered, my voice coming out louder and more high pitched than I expected.

But there was no answer.

All I could hear was silence.

I started pounding on the door with all of my might. I didn't know what was happening behind that door. What I did know that it wasn't anything good. I didn't want to imagine what would happen if I didn't get that door open.

All of a sudden, the door creaked open. A wave of water spilled out onto my feet and the floor.

I gulped, suddenly afraid to see what was inside. A part of me didn't want to know. It wanted me to walk away and run back to my porsche and drive far, far away. The other part of me knew I had to look. I had to know.

I peeked inside of the door. All I could see was a bathtub with water pouring over the edges.

I pushed the door open a little wider, still afraid to swing the door open and reveal what was lurking inside.

I caught my breath as I saw water spilling over the sides of the bathtub.

This wasn't ordinary water.

It wasn't even water at all.

It was blood.

I closed my eyes as I pushed the door open all of the way. When I opened them, I couldn't help but let out a startled scream.