Hello my beloved readers! This is the longest chapter I have ever made in my history in fanfiction. Currently, I am on the verge of writing my climax. It's getting exciting already! =)

Thank you very much for your reviews! Because of your effort, I want to give you a special incentive to express my gratitude. Whenever you review, I will make sure to give you a sneak preview of the next chapter. Do you like the sound of that?

DISCLAIMERS ARE APPLIED.

Chapter 12: Hope

I wonder whether I'll be able to see him smile again.

I sat beside my father's bed at the hospital. Since the incident, he never opened his eyes though it's been a month already.

Time is indefinite and the future is unknown. They've always been my greatest enemies.

I took a piece of cloth on the bedside, soaking it with water from the basin then wringed it thoroughly before wiping his forehead.

"Please. Please wake up." I pleaded.

"We need you right now." My father, who was always been the family's source of strength was now at the mercy of life and death.

I found myself reminiscing to that very night. The night that caused all this damage, the night I wished hadn't happened.

There was heavy downpour as I ran on the streets. My legs were losing strength but I forced myself to move on. My right leg was cramping up that I had to remove my shoes. I don't care running barefoot, as long as I can get there immediately.

I sprinted to the police station. It was almost a block away from my home. Every minute wasted feels like an hour to me. I stood there soaked in the rain.

I forgot about dignity and demureness. I forgot how to be a lady even. I didn't care. Those things didn't matter to me now.

The people in the police station were surprised when I showed up dripping wet. It was unusual scenario for them I guess. Maybe they thought that kind of situation only happens at stories or plays.

This is life, hard and true.

I found myself so agitated and so hysterical that I jumbled out my words. I bawled as I share my situation to these complete strangers.

"Knife. *gasp* Mother *gasp* stabbed. *gasp* Father. *gasp* Need *gasp* help."

"Calm down. Please." The man on the desk was looking at me, confused.

"Can anybody give her a glass of water?" The officer called out.

I was already wasting too much time. "I don't need a glass of water! For goodness sakes! I damn need some damn help!"

"Calm down Miss. Panicking won't get us anywhere, would we?" The man smirked.

I felt my blood boiling and my temples throbbing. I was getting irritated. Why isn't anybody taking me seriously?

My heart was pounding so hard that if it weren't for my ribcage, it would have jumped right out. These people need to act immediately!

"Miss, please take a seat. Here's a glass of water. Tell us what happened."

I didn't take a seat. I have no time to make myself comfortable. I didn't need that much help for myself as of the moment.

"No. Please. Listen to me. My ballistic mother stabbed my father, Charles Swan. She's acting like a lunatic. She's not usually this way. But tonight, she was exceptionally different. So please, let's go back to my house because my father might be dying as of the moment!" I pleaded. My tears wouldn't stop flowing. My voice was getting raspier by the moment.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner? Ma'am, don't worry. We're on it."

I mentally kicked myself. THAT was WHAT I was saying. Why is it that every single time you need help, they don't appear as fast as they should but if you don't, they are bugging you like hell!

The policeman radioed the others on the station. After a couple of minutes, they led me to the police wagon.

The sound of the siren haunted me. It sounded like a clock ticking away, telling me that I don't have much time.

When we arrived at my house, everything was eerily quiet. The police broke down the door and went straight to the kitchen with me leading them.

The scene was terrifying.

My father slumped beside the kitchen counter with a knife just beneath his chest. His breathing was heavy and rapid, with his eyes still closed. A tear fell down on his left cheek.

Marie was hysterical. She was seated at the corner, clutching her hair making it a ball of mess. Her eyes was still fixated at Charles. She was in a curled seating position. She wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking herself back and forth.

"He made me do it! He made me do it!" She mumbled over and over. Her voice was raspy as she cried out.

That was the last thing that I remembered before I blacked out.

"Bella. I brought food for you." A nurse came in with a tray filled with food.

Her name is Cynthia. She's the assigned nurse for the duration of my father's stay at the hospital. She's been very kind to me though. I guess, she's trying to fill the gap that an adult should be providing with a child like me who has nothing.

My stomach grumbled. I haven't been paying attention to my eating habits nowadays.

"Thank you." She gave me an apologetic smile before placing the tray on the table.

"No progress?" I asked.

Her gaze fell upon Charles' sleeping form. "Let's us just pray for the best."

She placed a hand on my shoulder, as if trying to comfort me. Then she left, I guess she was on her usual routine of making her rounds at the hospital.

I missed Marie. I really can't point out where everything started going wrong.

I visited my mother in the asylum last week. I talked to her doctor who informed me that Marie was suffering with a severe case of schizophrenia. She was seeing beings, particularly a man with dark hair, that normal people doesn't usually see.

The doctor said that losing a baby pushed her to the brink of insanity. She always had the tendency to go berserk but it was controlled until she finally broke down. Her withdrawal to the public and her sudden change of moods were signs all along. My father and I knew that there was something wrong with her but we never thought it was this serious already. We respected Marie's decision of not seeking medical health but we were wrong. We should've done the right decision for her. She was incapable of taking care of herself nonetheless making her in danger not only to those surrounding her, but to herself also.

"She never meant any harm", the doctor said.

He explained that it was the disease that did that unlawful act. He suggested that she must be subjected to electroshock therapy from now on, in order for her to be "cured".

The screaming of different women in the asylum haunted me. I saw a woman with empty eyes being controlled by those men in white coats and nurses that always held charts. The screaming didn't stop.

I imagined what it was like to the person having electroshock therapy. They'll be attaching numerous cords on the body subjecting it to a subjective dosage of electrical currents. Leather belts would strap the body and the mouth would be given a popsicle-like stick to stop the jaws from locking. The shock will cause the patient undergo a torturous procedure.

I cringed at the idea.

I was the only family member who is aware of our situation and alive and sane add to that. I was being pressured into doing a decision. The responsibility burdened me.

Before I signed the waiver form, I requested an audience with my mother.

They took me to the reception area. It was a huge room with guards scattered everywhere. A very thick glass either covered every opening. It was suffocating for me. It looked more like a prison than a hospital.

Numerous benches with tables were aligned in a five by seven arrangement. I chose the one that was near the window a bit. I sat on the left side of the bench. I saw Marie came in and she sat on the other side, facing me. The only object that kept me apart from her is the rectangular table.

"How's Charles?" Her voice was tired.

I stared at her. She was a bit dirty, not the lady who always told me that being a woman was about perfection, always prim and proper. Her perfectly maintained hair was now unkempt and messy. Dark eye bags appeared under her chocolate brown eyes, which always sparkled before.

I was pained as I struggled between pity towards my mother and anger that she did all of these. I know she wasn't in the right state of mind but she's the only one to blame. She was responsible for it at some point though she wasn't in control by herself.

"He's still in coma."

"Oh."

"The doctor wants you to start electroshock therapy to cure you." I made it sound so casual but in reality, it is nothing close to casual.

"I trust your judgment dear."

Dear. She always called me that. I am her daughter and she is my mother. But now, I am responsible to what will become of her. Our roles suddenly turned between the two of us.

Why of all people does this happen to my parents?

Is this my karma into going against the will of nature?

Tears started to fill my eyes. I've been crying a lot lately. I didn't like any second of it. I've lost control even with my own crying. I am tired already, from the crying, responsibility and the hurt everything entails in the end. My soul was weary and lost. I think if I was given more problems, my soul would just rip and break like paper.

"Bella, dear, I'm sorry for all of these. I love Charles, more than my own life." She choked in her tears.

"But he was threatening me. He was going to destroy my family. He was going to take you away from me." Her tone of voice changed from that of a victim to a person filled with fury.

"HE IS THE BLAME FOR ALL OF THESE! HE SHOULD DIE! DAMN HIM! I CONDEMN HIM! I DESPISE HIM! I WILL MURDER HIM IF I HAVE TO!"

The nurses rushed to my side and placed her in a jacket. They injected something in her leg that made her calm and eventually causing her to doze off.

I wasn't quite sure whom she was referring. Maybe it was the man from the figment of her mind. She never really hated Charles, as far as I could remember.

Does she need someone to blame other than herself? Is that man a reflection of her suppressed personality?

Numerous questions filled my mind and worse, I have no means to answer them.

The doctor approached me with a waiver form. I decided that in doing so, it was best for my mother. I signed the form with a tinge of guilt to how I'm going to subject her in her own personal hell on earth.

I felt my chest getting heavier as I recall the situation from my mother. I chose not to contact the asylum. I don't think my pathetic heart can take it.

"Father, I'm going out a bit. I'll be back before you know it." I smirked at the irony of my statement.

I went out of the room and decided that I needed calm myself. A good stroll around the hospital might help.

I passed by the hospital ward before I saw a boy reading a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice on a chair beside an empty bed.

He noticed that I was staring at him and smiled.

"Good morning my lady. What brings you to the wonderful world of the ward?"

His hair was dark, almost black. His skin was pale. His face was little bit angular; cheekbones were prominent. He also has two dimples when he smiles. The most amazing feature I find striking is his pale blue eyes. It reminds me of the color of the deep ocean I often gaze out on when sailing to boarding school.

"Just strolling. What about you?"

"It's a good place to read." He sneered.

"Aren't you supposed to be on your bed?"

"Nah. I have a choice you know. It's my right as a patient." He winked.

"Oh." I was out of words.

"I'm Matthew. Matthew Evans."

"I'm Isabella Swan."

"So, you're that kid." I cringed when he said that. I think he noticed my discomfort that led him to groan.

"That was insensitive of me, right?" I just nodded.

"I'm usually in a better behavior. Believe me. I swear."

I laughed at him. His face was hysterical.

"You're more beautiful when you smile. You look better. I'm glad to be of help."

I suddenly became too conscious of myself. I didn't even bother to make myself look presentable to the public, not that it matters nowadays. I bit my lip.

"So, how are you coping?"

"I…" I was searching for the right words. "I can't say I'm fine."

"That's perfectly understandable."

"Matthew. Why aren't you in your bed?" A woman's voice broke our conversation.

He fumbled then jumped to his bed.

"See you around then?" He whispered.

I nodded before running away from the ward. I stopped myself when I was in the hallways. Why am I running in the first place?

I beamed to myself then went on my way back to Charles' room. I closed the door lightly behind me.

I chuckled at remembering my meeting with my new friend. It was a sense of comfort with me. I felt like he wasn't judging my family or me. That's what I needed as of the moment.

I realized that only a few people visited us in the hospital. That includes my father's workers, business partners and Elizabeth Masen. None of my mother's socialite friends even tried to visit her nor sent her flowers. As for mine, I was never the type to get wound up by the so-called friendship they have with me.

I haven't spoken to Elizabeth for a long time. I'm sure that she was well aware of what happened between her son and I.

During her visit, I felt a wall between her and me I believe that it's her maternal instinct to protect her only child from pain and I effortlessly brought it unto him, making me a tide of wave against her efforts.

Though she was sympathetic, I wasn't insensitive enough to step beyond my boundaries. But she mentioned Edward Sr. being assigned to help the English army in the war. She didn't bother to mention about Edward, for which I am very grateful with her. I just hope that he didn't want to pursue his passion of being a soldier, much like the glory of his father.

But I shall never know. Like what I have told myself before, I need to suffer the consequences of my actions.

"Isabella?" A deep voice sent me back to reality.

I was so absorbed with my flashback that I didn't notice a blond-haired doctor appeared in front of me. His skin was pale, had golden eyes and was eerily beautiful.

He was all too familiar.

We are now currently in 1914 so it means we have four years to go to cover for the upcoming chapters.

I'm am so excited in finishing to finally explain why things happen the way they are.

So, What do you think? =) Is there any particular scenes you'd like me to add?