There are a lot of either really strange or really smart people reading this right now, because even more of you got the right answer on this language than the last one! Yes, it was Norwegian. But honestly, how do so many random people just happen to know that? But I will find a language that NO ONE will guess, and then I WILL be able to say that you didn't get it!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!!

(Insane slightly disturbing rant over)

Anyways, I also realized I have forgotten to put a disclaimer on the last few chapters, so here it is: I do not own Twilight or any of the associated characters in that book. No copyright violation is intended. Please don't sue me, lawyers who are even stranger than I am!!!!

Edward's POV:

I couldn't begin to fathom Bella's thought process. She believed that she didn't deserve me. It was completely absurd, as if that sentiment should not be the other way around.

I had watched her sleep, grappling with my inner turmoil. I knew I should not try to be with her, I knew I put her in danger, that I at any moment, I could so very easily wipe the life out of her beautifully fragile body. But I knew that I didn't want to avoid her, didn't want to distance myself. Completely the opposite.

I tried to understand my own feelings. I did not believe it was possible to feel so strongly about anyone, particularly someone I have known for such a short amount of time. I had never known if I believed in love at first sight, despite Rosalie and Emmett's story. I had never been able to grasp the fact that they had seen each other and just known they belonged to one another. Not until Bella.

I still didn't understand how I could love her so quickly, despite the fact that I didn't even know that much about her. Despite the fact that she was keeping still another secret from me. This was the first time in my existence I had ever had to face a problem such as this one. Before Bella, I had known exactly who I was and what my place on this earth was. Now, I am not so certain.

I watched her quiet dream slowly turn into a nightmare. I saw her fighting against something I could not see, I heard her scream. Then she had said my name. I realized she was dreaming about me. My happiness had been short lived. Because her dream very obviously wasn't pleasant.

I had to consciously hold myself back from waking her. I wanted to end her invisible torment; I didn't want her to struggle with herself. But simultaneously, I had to wonder what she dreamed about. What scared her so deeply?

Was it Phil? Even as I had thought his name, I growled. It was a good thing he was not in the same state anymore. If he had been, he would be dead by now.

But some innate sense told me that was not it. Told me there was something else. Something was torturing Bella, my Bella as I had already began to think, to the point where she would be screaming in the middle of the night because of it.

And then she had woken up. I had tried to disappear before she saw me, but I was so immersed in my own conflicting thoughts I was too late. Our conversation had been awkward, to say the least. But she hadn't minded that I was in her room. Just knowing that was worth being caught.

Then, I had kissed her.

I knew I shouldn't, I knew it was wrong. I told myself that this could so very easily lead to something tragic, that I could lose control any minute, especially with her so close, but I had kissed her anyhow.

I could still recall the feel of her warm, gentle lips against mine, the hot skin of her shoulder beneath my hand.

I have never known anything like it. And for just an instant, I allowed myself to be caught in that beautiful instant, that moment where I think I was happier, more alive than I have been in ninety years.

And then she pulled away. She was crying, and I was appalled at myself. I tried to explain, to apologize. Her expression was so sad, so tortured, I wondered if she didn't hate me. Because she should.

But she had told me something I had never expected her to say. She had said she wasn't good enough, that she was the one that didn't deserve me. She told me that I didn't know her, and I instantly realized she was referring to her secret. Her secret that so obviously tortured her, that so obviously seemed to be tearing her apart.

She slammed the door in my face, and I had stood there for a while, attempting to let her outrageous words sink in.

But I realized it then. She didn't want me.

I was heartbroken.

I left. I started to run. Run away from her house, from her.

But I stopped. I turned around. I returned.

She was sitting on the porch, crying. So alone, so sad, so unearthly beautiful that my dead heart seemed to twist.

I was the only one who was heartbroken.

So now I was here, laying in my room, brooding.

A gentle knock sounded at my door, but I didn't avert my troubled gaze from the ceiling.

"Come in, Alice." I knew it was her without looking.

I heard her soft footsteps as she entered the room, felt her sit down beside me on the couch.

"Edward. I'm sorry." She had Seen. I should have known. I also should have known that she would have realized how I felt, even more than Jasper. "But Edward, it isn't you. Something's just wrong."

It's not you, it's me…

I sat up, finally looking my sister in the face. She was the only one out of the family who had truly understood how I felt about what happened. The others had felt sorry for Bella, had been surprised, but they didn't have the same depth of emotion involved in the situation. And they didn't know that I did.

Alice eyes locked with mine, giving me a gaze of complete understanding. She knew. Even if no one else did.

"It's going to be alright, Edward." But she hadn't Seen that. She was just telling me it, just trying to comfort me.

I forced a weak smile at her, appreciating her effort. "Okay, Alice."

"We're going to go on a hunting trip for the next few days. You should come. It might help." She stared at me with concerned eyes for a few more seconds, then swept out of the room without a word.

Maybe I would go. I didn't particularly want to leave Bella, but I needed to clear my head.

It's going to be alright.

It's going to be alright.

Bella's going to be alright.

And if she isn't, I promised myself, I'll do anything to make sure she will be.

Because I would save my angel, no matter the cost.

Bella's POV:

I skipped school on Monday, like the coward I was. I couldn't face him yet. I asked myself how long it would take me to face him, but I didn't have an answer. It seemed I never had an answer.

I told Charlie that I was sick, I didn't even have to pretend I didn't feel well. A mix of getting very little sleep and then crying my eyes out on the porch outside had made me look like I'd been to hell and back without me even my trying.

And maybe I had been to hell and back. If this feeling, this sensation of complete engulfing, utter despair wasn't hell, then I didn't know what was.

All day, I thought about Edward, about what I had said, what I had done.

It was torture.

And all day, I dreaded the thought of returning to school, facing him.

I wondered idly if he had told his siblings. He might have. But at the moment, I couldn't bring myself to care. For years, my most overriding concern had been to keep my secret. And now, I found I didn't hardly care if anyone knew. Not anymore.

When morning came the next day, I wasn't sure whether I was glad my last nightmarish day was over, or whether I was scared. I shouldn't be. I shouldn't have to be. But I was.

The term, butterflies in your stomach, gave itself a whole new meaning as I drove to school in the rain, trying to avoid swerving off of the road. I was early, as normal, but I just sat in my truck, numbly staring as the parking lot slowly filled with people.

The silver Volvo never came.

I sighed in relief, grateful beyond words that I wouldn't have to face him now, today. And at the same time I felt depressed that he wasn't here, close to me.

I really needed to get my emotions under control.

School was long as usual, particularly Biology. I couldn't help but glance at the vacated seat to my left every few seconds, wondering where Edward and his family were.

I drove back home slowly, the rain had picked up, and unhurriedly walked to the house, certain I would break my neck at any moment. The house was quiet and empty as usual, and I dropped my school things in the entryway, tugging off my muddy boots.

I was balanced on one foot, trying to get my shoe off, when the phone abruptly rang. I jumped in surprise and immediately tumbled to the ground, landing in a clumsy heap on the floor. Quickly standing up, I ran to the kitchen, yanking the phone off the hook.

"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.

"Miss Swan?" The voice on the other end was bored, but in a formal on-the-job sort of way.

"Yes?"

"We recently found a piece of luggage belonging to you at the airport, unclaimed. We are holding in our customer service area, you may come pick it up between 11 a.m. and 7 p.m."

"What?" But the operator had already hung up.

I'm not missing anything, am I? I would have noticed if I left a bag behind by now. I'm sure I didn't lose anything…

But how many Isabella Swans who just happened to leave their bag in a small Washington airport can there honestly be?

Frowning, scribbled a note to Charlie, deciding to go to the airport to at least check. It was only an hour drive, after all, and I didn't have that much homework.

I quickly went back out to my truck, pulling out of the driveway, carefully aware of the hazardous driving conditions.

Even with my antique truck and my poor driving ability, I managed to arrive at the airport before seven o'clock. The parking lot was practically deserted, and the normally bustling hallways had almost no people.

But then, most people aren't flying somewhere from a remote Washington airport in the middle of the week.

There was no line at the customer service counter, and I was able to walk directly up to the middle aged woman behind the counter.

"Excuse me? I'm Isabella Swan. I was told you have a missing bag that belongs to me?"

The woman hardly even glanced up to look at me. She quickly pulled out a piece of paper, scanning down the list.

"Isabella Swan? Oh, this bag is registered to an Ella Swan. Apparently there's been a mistake. I am terribly sorry for the confusion." It was probably in her job description to say she was terribly sorry for any kind of mistake the airport made, because she blatantly didn't look remotely regretful.

Annoyed, but not surprised, I turned away from the counter, heading back to the parking lot and grumbling about people who couldn't read to myself.

I didn't realize I wasn't particularly looking where I was going until I was out in the dark deserted lot again, and I ran directly into another person.

The asphalt rushed up to meet me as I tumbled sideways to the ground, feeling my breath being knocked away. I sat up dazedly, gingerly touching the side of my face and wincing in pain and disgust as I felt warm sticky blood on my fingers.

I clamped my mouth tightly shut, willing myself not to vomit, trying not to see or smell the sickening scent of my own blood.

"Bella?"

My head snapped up in surprise as a vaguely familiar voice asked my name.

My stomach dropped.

Three guesses who it was.

Steven.

And this definitely, absolutely 110 positively wasn't a dream.

I didn't say anything, but I knew that my eyes were wide with fear. I shrunk back on the dirty pavement, trying to get away from his horribly familiar face.

Vaguely, I asked myself how much bad luck a person could possibly have. What were the chances that I just happened to run into the person I most feared in an airport, where I wouldn't normally have been in anyhow?

I couldn't breath. It was as if someone had grabbed me around the neck and was squeezing. I gasped for air and tried to scoot away from him, scraping my hands across the rough ground.

"Bella? What a surprise to see you here. I always wondered where you ended up."

I clumsily sprang to my feet, backing away from him.

My mind was in overdrive, frantically trying to think what to do.

Grasping at the desperate idea I could just run from him, I spun on my heel, dashing back towards the airport terminal, where there where more people, witnesses.

I couldn't hardly see through the relentless icy downpour, and I had to focus all of my concentration on not falling. I heard the sound of feet smacking against the wet ground behind me, and I knew with utter certainty that he was following me.

Gasping for breath, I felt my foot catch on something and went tumbling to the cold ground for the second time that day. Clumsily, I scrambled to get up, but I felt hands grab my feet from behind, dragging me to the side of the building, in the direction of a shadowed recess.

My stomach scraped against the asphalt, and I cried out in pain as it sliced my skin. Struggling wildly, I tried in vain to get up, to run away. The hands released my ankles, only to grip my shoulders, forcing my up against the wall, spinning me to face my assailant.

"Bella, Bella. Isn't this just like old times? You and me, alone together?" Cold sweat broke out on my forehead as he talked, his face inches from my own. I could smell is breath. It was cinnamon, as if he had been chewing on gum.

I struggled wildly against his oppressing hands, giving all my diminished stamina to fight him.

But just as before, he was stronger. And he always would be stronger.

But this time, I would fight the entire time. This time, I would not stop struggling because of the pain and the fear.

Thrashing, I managed to slap him in the face, drawing blood. His hand lashed out and collided with my nose, and I heard a sickening crouching sound.

My already shady surroundings seemed to darken and swirl before my eyes as I felt warm blood seep out of my nose. Steven's gleefully twisted face seemed to swim before my eyes. I vaguely registered the pain on my face and stomach, vaguely felt the cold wind and icy rain pounding against my half limp body.

What I felt in sharp awareness was my fear so strong it was almost palpable. Somewhere, I summoned up some extra reserve of strength and lashed out again, still futilely fighting.

I had promised myself that even though I was cold, I was in pain, I would not stop fighting like I had last time. I would not submit until I had no choice whatsoever.

I felt cold droplets of rain on the skin of my chest, and I registered vaguely that I was still pinned against the rough wall, half clothed. Viciously, I kicked my leg with all of my strength at Steven. His dark silhouette doubled over in pain, uttering a low curse.

Something hard struck the side of my face, and the darkness seemed to draw closer. I saw the ominous clouds in the stormy sky, spilling their contents to the earth. As if they were crying themselves.

And then there was nothing.

Suspenseful. Violent. Depressing. Mildly disturbing. Don't you love my writing? I'm hoping to update soon, but I'm not certain I'll be able to, because I have some things I need to get done before my mother kills me then resurrects me and makes me do them anyhow.

But, I still should be able to update within the next two days. In the meantime, try to figure out this language you too-smart-for-your-own-good-crazy-people-who-actually-like-my-writing.

(And how do I know all of these languages? That's for me to know and you to never find out.)

Ha you're olvasó ez , amit anyagi eszközök ÉN didn't bolond ember ön. újra ÉN igazán szükség -hoz talál némely halott régi nyelv csak tehát ÉN tud mond ÉN tett.

Megáll lét tehát szúró. Ez bosszantó.

Amíg ÉN bánt ön újra –

Seul Lune