Edward decided we should work on the plant cell. God knows why. I agreed just so he would leave.

Of course my mum had to hug him and give him some food before he left. It really was the most hideous thing I had to stand back and watch.

Edward is just such a... I don't even know what to call him ,but I know it isn't nice. For one, he told me what to do, and two he disrupted my plans for the night.

By the time he was gone the sun was setting and I was dead on just collapsing in bed. But something kept me up, and I'm not sure what it was. But it wouldn't leave my body, making me anxious like I was just waiting for something.

So, I got out of bed, went over to my messenger bag and pulled out my diary.

I settled into bed, opening the diary to a fresh page and began to write.

Dear Subconscious,

Today was as crappy as the last. American school is exhausting much like school back home. I don't understand how they get through eight years of this shit. I can't wait to go back, and to be back at home. I miss it. Edward Cullen came over after school, unwelcome if I might add. He didn't even react to me snapping at him, he just smiled and got on with it. It's weird. Nobody's gotten me to listen tot hem. The therapists, Laurent, hell even my own parents can't get through to me. But Edward did. I never let anyone control me, never, but he did. I don't ever want to feel this way again. So, I wont let it happen again. Nobody can control me.

I feel this weight come over me. This darkness, just wrapping around my body, squeezing and squeezing. Making me numb to the very core. Its shutting me down, helping me to escape, helping me to become who I need to be. a person who cant be controlled, who can't be told what to do, who lives free.

I felt in a dream, completely and utterly disconnected, as I sat on my bed with my diary just laying on my lap. I turned my head like a robot, my body numb, and exhausted. I reached for the panda bear, just sitting innocently next to my pillow. Unzipping the back of it, I slipped my hand in and immediately my fingers touched cool, thin metal.I grasped it, lifting it out, and I could just abut see it in the dark gloom, that loomed over the room.

I raised it to my wrists like it was nothing, and ever so slowly pushed it down on my skin, it didn't hurt, not really, a small sting, like having an injection. I kept pushing down, the sting growing and once I felt the small release of blood, my body came back to life, I could feel again. It was like magic. A simple thing, like this piece of metal, can give me that little push back to reality.

I blinked, and my shoulders slumped as I left the blade slowly slip out from under my skin.

I don't need to do this...I don't need to do this... I kept repeating over and over, and I wiped the small speck of blood from the blade using my top, then placed it safely inside the panda.

This is Edward Cullen's he did today, how he made me feel, it made me go back to that horrid place where there's nothing. My own inner clarity, where there is nothing. Some may think its a good place, hell sometimes I think its a good place and that why I go there. But then again, if you can't feel, what's the point in living at all?

The next morning I woke up to a dreary day. the weather was not a reflection on my mood, due to the fact that it is the weekend, and I don't have to go to school. Then again I only have today before I have my second session with Dr Jenkins.

I'm certainly hoping for these three months to pass by quicker. The fact that its merely been two weeks is not a good sign. There are at least seven me weeks left to endure before mum and dad will accept the act that I am miserably here and take me home.

I just want go home.

I roll over in bed, enjoying the warmth, and my eyes stare at my arms. the small indent from last nights events is a sad reminder of everything. Its not even a cut, which is progress to me. Its just like a little slit really that's dried up. At least its not deep enough, or large enough to leave a scar.

I sit up a little, stretching a listening the the sound of my stiff muscles take release from being dead all night. I take no time in savouring the chance to lay in, and instead get moving to try and find something to do today. I need distractions, I need something.

I take a shower, rushing though the routine to get ready. I don't now why I'm rushing, I have nowhere to go or nothing to do. I just feel like I want to get it out of the way. I dry my hair, and put it up in a high ponytail, tight to my scalp. I throw on some jeans and a band tee, before layering a black hoddie and matching coloured boots to cover up more.

I know I want to go out, but I don't know where.

I guess I just have to see where the paths take me.