AN: This chapter contains some disturbing images, so bear that in mind. And sorry for the shortness!

Thanks to my betas: thedarknessofthemoon, Whitlocked, and mycrookedsmile.

I know I said last chap we'd hear Bella's song, but yeah, that changed, but it will come up soon, I promise.


I open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight

And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain

How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got nowhere to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again

'Untitled' by Simple Plan

BPOV

We kissed. Edward had kissed me. He'd kissed me. Me.

It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It was my own personal heaven. When his lips touched mine, all feelings of despair disappeared; I felt whole, complete with him as we moved in sync. The passion of the kiss took me by surprise, but it chilled me to the bone with pleasure. The fear I felt for my deepening feelings was almost hidden by the joy, and happiness I felt as his lips moved against mine. The ecstasy that ran through my body was like the thrill of a roller coaster ride, just as you start the descent. It felt like I was flying all over the place; Edward took my body places I'd never been before. I felt confident, I felt bliss, and I felt complete contentment at his touch. I hadn't expected to feel such satisfaction at it, I thought that because I was tainted, I wouldn't enjoy it...but I had...because it was Edward who kissed me. I knew I was safe with him, and I knew I loved him. Nothing with him could be anything but perfect.

My mind was still spinning, incapable of comprehending the mind blowing moment that just happened. I couldn't get over something else either. I said I loved him.

I'd never been shown any love, and I wasn't sure what it meant. But if anything was love, it was what I felt for Edward. I couldn't imagine anything more wonderful. I thought about him all the time, I wanted him near me, holding me all the time. Now I had him, I couldn't be without him. I would fall to pieces without him.

And I told him; but he hadn't run away. He stayed, he comforted me, and he kissed me. Instead of running, like I thought, he pulled me closer, and I let him in. I dropped my defenses, I opened my heart, and he hadn't broken it. My twisted heart felt almost whole again, complete, and I knew that with time, Edward might be able to heal me. If anybody could, he would.

But as we walked down the stairs, I felt myself closing in again. He wanted me to tell him everything, and I didn't know if I could. It knew it would be so painful that every step I'd made in healing today would be pointless. It would be back to the start, I'd be empty again.

Edward pulled me onto his bed, sitting opposite me, and took my face in his hands.

"I love you, Bella, but please, tell me everything; don't try to spare me, I need to know."

I closed my eyes; I couldn't face him, or his pain, when I told my story.

"Where should I start?" I asked lifelessly, slowly shutting my whole body off to the world.

"At the beginning. Go wherever it takes you....please, I need to know so I can help you."

"I was five, as I told you. The first time it happened, it was little things, a hit when I'd do something wrong. When James was over it was always worse; he seemed to bring out the worst in my mother. He told her to hit me, and she would, to please him. I was eight before it began to get any worse than hitting. At Christmas, James thought I'd been naughty, so he locked me in the attic. They didn't give me food for over 24 hours, and as a little girl, I thought I was dying. Then, I'd just turned nine, and...and-" My voice broke, and I took a few moments to regain some numbness. "-Victoria was out, it was just James in the house. I was watching TV, and he entered the room, carrying the ironing board. He set it up, and I thought he was just trying to be helpful. But then he came towards me, and he was so, so terrifying. I was shaking on the seat, calling for my Mom, but of course she didn't come. He grabbed my arm and pinned me down to the chair. He hitched my leg up and yanked the sock off. Then he...he took the iron, and he pressed it against the sole of my foot, and held it there. I screamed like never before, it was unbearable, unforgettable. It still hurts now, it's why I can't walk straight.

"When he did it, his face was...warped with bitterness and cruelty, and he just smiled as he watched me shriek. It was...torture...And that was when it really started.

"As I got older, and James was there longer and more often, Victoria got more violent. She pushed me down the stairs when I was almost 11, and I broke my arm, and that was the start of my hospital visits. One night, James came in drunk and he smashed my head against the wall. The doctors gave me medication, but James just threw it down the toilet. Then, when I was 11, I found some scissors in a drawer in my room, and it just happened. I realized that if I...cut myself, I would be so distracted by the pain that I could forget about my real life I lived for a few moments; it was just a few, but it was worth it. And so it started. I lost my few friends at school, because all I was dedicated to was my knife. I brought it to school once, and some pupils found me lying in a pool of blood in the ladies room. I'd slipped and bumped my head when I fell, passing out, and letting the blood from my wound flow everywhere. The school contacted Victoria, and that night, James came to my room, with his own knife. He said that if I wanted to be cut, then he'd happily do it for me. He cut right up my back, and I didn't even fight, because I knew that the pain would be enough to make me forget.

"When I was 15, there was an incident with a frying pan. I accidently fell over and knocked a vase off a desk. Victoria was washing dishes, she was holding a pan, and just threw it at me with such force it knocked me out. I don't remember anything, except when I woke up, I was lying on my bed, and I stayed there for three days, not being allowed out. I was given a couple of slices of bread and a glass of water every night, but that was all I was given. They said it would help make me pretty, that I'd get thin and everyone would like me better.

"Luckily, they locked me in with my knife. Those days were where most of the scars on my thighs come from. I had nothing else to do, so I just sat and cut myself up, desperate for a release from the pain, desperate for the euphoria that surged through my body.

"And then there was that night. It was only last week, not even seven days have passed, Edward!" I felt his arms wrap around me as suddenly, I was very aware of the burning tears on my cheeks. I'd been so out of it, I hadn't even noticed I'd been crying. I sobbed against his chest, and tried to wipe away the tears as I continued.

"Like I said, he was d...drunk, and he came in. He was t...towering over me; I was so scared. I c...called out, but he slapped a h...hand over my mouth. He smelled d...disgusting. I can still taste his scent in the air. It overwhelms me at n...night. I see him on top of me again, forcing h...himself inside. When it happened, it was as if I wasn't there. I f...floated above my body, and saw the scene from a d...different view. I saw the g...girl struggle, and it felt like I'd been r...ripped apart, and sewn back together like Frankenstein. I felt like a m...monster; I still do."

I looked up to Edward and saw eyes that were blinded with unshed tears. His face looked tortured; he looked like I felt on the inside all the time, I'd just perfected my way of hiding it.

"Edward, please..." I reached out and touched his face but he pushed me away, jumping off the bed and running to his punching bag. He started slamming fist upon fist into it. He roared and I crept off the bed, heading for the door.

His face was terrifying; the hatred, anger and pure pain were killing me to watch.

And it was scaring me as well.

This monster that had been released wasn't my Edward; this was someone so much more powerful. I'd never seen him like this, and I didn't want to again. It was like he was possessed; possessed by something I was familiar with. In a way, this monster that had been released was oddly comforting; it was too familiar though, so familiar that I had to get away from it. I knew what would happen next; I would be hit, I would be beaten, so I ran to the bathroom, where I slid helpless to the floor. I buried my head in my hands and an onslaught of images hit me. James surrounding me, pushing into me, kissing me, hitting me, pinning me down. The engulfment of images surprised me, in just one second, they all appeared. I shrieked at the sickening unexpectedness of the visions and jumped up, my hands knocking things wildly off the shelves. The compulsion was so powerful, I had to do it, there was nothing else to do. I felt like I would die if I didn't do it. My chest was exploding with the need to feel metal against my skin.

I hit at things on the shelves in a panic, trying to find something, anything that would help me forget. I stumbled over to the cabinet and began yanking things out. A razor fell to the floor, and I picked it up in joy. This time, I just rolled my sleeves up and slid it along my wrist, a place where I'd promised myself I'd never do it; I didn't want to die. I didn't even know if I would die, but I never wanted to risk it. However, that fact was bypassed by the all-consuming need. I gasped in pleasure when finally, the slit was there and blood pooled from it, falling onto the tiles. I ran back over the vein with the razor, creating another cut, and then another. The pain sent shock waves through my system, and I laughed out loud at the sudden freeness of the physical pain. No more was I terrorized by the haunting images of my past. No longer were they the plague of my existence.

But it was just for a moment. All too soon, the images came back, creeping into my mind and re-twisting my heart. The blood stained down my arm and when James' eyes stared back at me from the vision, I screamed again, and grasped the razor as hard as I could in my wounded arm and brought it over my other. It was as if he was there in the flesh. The vision controlled me; the clearer it became, the more I had to harm myself, and the more I cut down, the clearer the vision. It was a never-ending cycle of despair.

And so, in my terror, I believed he was there. He stood next to the sink, across the room from me. His biceps were contracting under his t-shirt and I shrank back in terror as his malevolent eyes glittered with anticipation of what was to come. He licked his lips, making me whimper in memory, and started towards me.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I cried, as James stalked toward me, his hands stretching out as if to grasp me. "NO, NO, NO!" I shrieked as he got closer. I kept sliding the razor over my skin in a desperate attempt to forget him for a moment, but the vision stayed, and so confirmed in my mind that he really was there. My arms were a mass of crimson blood and shredded ribbons of skin. It was like I was painting my body; but in fact, I was tearing myself apart, I was killing myself. Every slash, although I didn't realize it, was bringing me closer to my death. As I continued scarring myself, my body was slowly starting to fail; I was losing too much blood. With every step James moved closer to me, a loud sob would escape my body and the razor would damage another part of me. "PLEASE! GET AWAY!"

The terror in my voice, and the overwhelming weakness that suddenly overcame me, made me fall to the floor, dropping loudly to the cold, hard ground. The silence from me that followed as I struggled to get back up was shattered as I heard banging on the door start.

When my vision started to blur and fog over, I suddenly became conscious of the pain that was shooting all over my body. I realized that I was struggling to breathe properly, and that there was blood everywhere, the ruby color shining through my unclear vision. I noticed my unexpected frailty and it dawned on me, quite calmly, that this was it...it was the end; if I didn't get help, I would die now. I was losing far too much blood, my body was breaking down. That's when the panic started. The horror of my inevitable death surged through my body, making me convulse in fear. I needed to get the door open now, I needed to get help, I needed Edward.

Edward. No!

More pain coursed through me when I thought of him, and at the repulsiveness of my actions. He'd said he loved me, but how could he love this? I was killing myself...If what he said was true, then this would kill him too. I released a low whimper of desolation. But thinking about him made determination shoot through me; I would survive, if only so I could see him just one more time.

I tried to stand up and grasp the handle, but the blood on my hands made the doorknob too slippery. I couldn't turn it. I tried again, and again, but slowly the life was slipping from me. I began to feel my eyes droop in exhaustion as I slowly faded. My breaths were becoming shallow as more blood spurted from the wounds. My head rolled back on my shoulders and hit the floor with a thump. The banging on the door increased in tempo, as if more people had joined in.

"Help," I tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan. All my energy was leaving me as my life slowly slipped away in the blood that drained from my body. Was I dying? I thought blankly. I whimpered weakly as my vision blurred even more and the colors disappeared. I tried to reach out, but my arm was too heavy, and it wouldn't budge off the floor, however hard I tried. I relaxed it, and let go, finally giving in to the peace that was overtaking my body. Stillness was good, and at long last I felt numb, not feeling pain, or happiness, or depression. I smiled slightly as I struggled to breathe. With a contented sigh, my eyes closed over and my heart stuttered as I sank into the darkness. It was over...forever, I finally thought.


AN: I know it was rough to read, and I apologise.

Please trust me on this; we have a long way to go. Please review guys.