Chapter 13:

Isabella

I don't think I'm dead.

Death would be more peaceful.

This is about as far from peaceful as it could get.

My lungs and throat burned. Plus the fucking headache had returned.

I want to know what is going on. This is not good.

All I wanted to do was die.

How do I manage to screw everything up? I should have just let that car hit me, earlier.

That would have done the job.

I can only think of the hell I will receive when I wake up. Esme and Carlisle will sure abandon me now. They don't want damaged goods and that's exactly what I am.

There is this constant beeping noise that won't stop and I can hear everything around me.

My heart constricts at the thought of opening my eyes.

Can't I just go back to sleep? I'm not ready to face everyone.

But the annoying beeping sound gives me away.

I hear footsteps enter the room.

"Isabella?" A voice asks. I think it's Carlisle's. "Isabella can you hear me?"

I don't answer. I stay still and keep my eyes closed.

I don't want to be found out just yet.

"Are you sure she's going to wake up now?" Esme asks, concerned, "she could be just having a bad dream."

"No, I'm sure." Carlisle stated confidently.

I felt drained. I wanted to return to the darkness but my mind wouldn't budge. I was becoming increasingly aware of everything going on around me.

Was Edward here?

Was Alice?

Was Emmett?

How many other people had they told? I bet the whole town knew by now. I could only imagine the stories they were coming up with.

I couldn't wait to back to school and face the endless torture. Kids had very creative minds. Really, I think it was best if the Cullens just locked me up in a psych ward, maybe then I could find some peace. I wouldn't have to deal with gossiping teenagers and backstabbing friends.

"Sweetie?" Esme asked. Her hand touched my shoulder and I jolted away before I could stop myself.

Nice going, Bella.

I unwillingly opened my eyes to be met by the site of Carlisle and Esme. They held each other's hands and were seated in the ugly plaid chairs next to my bed.

I couldn't look them in the eyes.

I was weak.

You're a failure!

That's right, I had to listen to my mind. I was a failure.

I had failed at life and now at death.

I don't know how a person could manage to fail at death. It didn't seem possible.

Tears appeared in my eyes.

I let them roll down my cheeks. I was too exhausted to wipe them away. I turned my head and stared at the smiling flowers on the wall.

They seemed to be mocking me. I glared at them, hoping to make the paintings disappear but they stayed where they were, frozen.

I internally scoffed.

"You're awake," she smiled from behind her tears, "Oh my god, you don't know how worried we were."

I bit my lip, trying to prevent the sobs from exiting my mouth.

But I couldn't.

I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle my cries but it just made me cry harder.

"Who found me?" I managed to whisper.

My throat burned. I had to stop talking.

"It was a couple of boys from the Native American reservation," she said, "Jacob Black and Sam Uley."

I recognized those names. I used to to hang out with Jacob when I was younger. Our parents had been friends. I hadn't seen him in over 5 years.

"If they hadn't been there, then you would have died." Carlisle said. His voice was thick with emotion.

Yes, I would have. Then everything would have been how it should be.

I wanted to know if they had read the note. I had a feeling they had, but I still wanted it confirmed.

"Did you read the letter?"

I kept my gaze on my hands as I wrung them around in circles. I held my breath; waiting to hear their answer.

"Yes, we did." Carlisle gingerly said.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tears returned to my eyes. I could no longer hide what an emotional wreck I was.

"So you're going to kick me out now." I stated.

I took the chance of looking at their faces. They wore expressions of utter shock and belief and heartache.

"Isabella, we would never kick you out. You are part of this family now, and families stick together," Esme hastily said, "none of this is your fault. You. Were. Raped. And the boy that did this is the one at fault here. Not you!"

I stared at her with wide eyes. No one has ever told me that before.

I'm not sure I believe it.

"Do the other's know?" I asked the question I had been dreading to know.

Esme and Carlisle didn't answer.

I took their silence as a yes.

"It was Alice that found the diary," Esme whispered, "The kids had come home from school and before I could tell her you weren't home, she went to your room. A few seconds later I heard her scream."

Oh my fucking god. Alice had found it? I don't know how I am going to face her. She is the biggest gossip around and can't keep a secret.

What the fuck is she going to do?

"Alice read it?" I gasp.

My heart thrums against my chest.

Carlisle looks concerned.

"Isabella you have to take deep breaths for me. Can you do that?"

I try to listen to his voice, but it doesn't seem to work. I can't think straight. This did not go according to plan.

Alice was not supposed to find it. Now she knows. What is she going to do?

Did Edward know?

"Isabella, it's going to be ok. Just listen to my voice." Esme's warm hands held on to mine tightly. I tried to pull away but she wouldn't budge.

"Listen to my voice." She repeated.

I focused in her warm touch and finally stopped resisting. I shook like a leaf but she never let go.

"It's ok, sweetie. It's going to be ok."

No, it wasn't. It wasn't going to be ok.

But I didn't tell her that.

"Does everyone know?" I cried.

Does everyone know I was raped?

My vision was blurry by the tears. Esme wiped them away.

"Yes, everyone in the house knows," she said, "but there is something else."

Carlisle and her share a look. They're hiding something from me.

"What? What is it?" I demand.

"Don't be upset when I tell you this but," he took a breathe, "we had to tell the police what happened."

My eyes narrowed at them and I viciously pull myself away from Esme.

She looks stunned.

"You did what!" I growl.

I can not even begin the number of complications that came from this.

God, I'm such an idiot. I shouldn't have said anything!

"It's for the best, Isabella. This boy commited a crime and needs to be held responsible. He could hurt others." Carlisle tries to reason with me.

"No! That was not your decision to make! I chose not to tell anyone. I have been hurt time and time again and right when I start to become comfortable, people come and break my trust; and I was starting to trust you! If you want me to break down my walls and show me there is nothing to be afraid of then you can't go around telling people my secrets. " I screeched. "Besides, the police can't do anything now, it happened two years ago."

Carlisle was shaking his head. He seemed clearly distressed.

"Isabell-" I cut him off.

"Just go. I want to be alone."

I was fuming. Who did they think they were? Because apparently my thoughts or feelings didn't matter anymore. I was just some object they could toy around with.

"We can't do that." Esme stated in a whisper.

I stared at her incredulously. I was seventeen years old, I think I'm capable of being by myself. I'm not some little kid.

"You can't be alone. I'll stay in the room with you but we don't have to talk if you don't want to." Esme said.

Oh. Now I see what they're doing.

I clenched my jaw and tears sprung to my eyes; once again. I hastily wiped them away and tried to gain back my composure. Did they seriously think I was going to go on another suicide mission? That I couldn't be left alone?

That is insulting. I'm not that stupid.

"Why don't you just lock me up in an asylum? That will solve the problem." I retorted sarcastically.

My hands were in fists and clutched the blankets in rage. I was so furious that I wanted to scream. All I saw were there looks of pity, and that made my blood boil. I didn't want there's or anyone else's pity. I just wanted to be left alone. To be forgotten about.

"Isabella, as we've said before, we love you; we are not trying to hurt you. Eventually you will understand."

Who does this man think he is? God? Nobody loves me. I don't believe their lies for one second. Nothing can fool me ever again.

"You'll eventually get tired of me. Everyone does." I muttered under my breathe.

"No. We never will, never." Carlisle whispered. I stared straight ahead at the tv. My arms were crossed across my chest and jaw was clenched. I didn't say anything else.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Can I come in?" A man's voice said from the other side of the door. The three of us looked at the door.

The man didn't wait for an answer. He walked into the room.

I fumbled around with my fingers. I didn't want to see this man. I didn't want to talk to him.

"I'm Dr. Hanover." He shook hands with Carlisle and Esme and made his way over to me. He stood far away but not far enough for my liking.

Dr. Hanover had a big beer belly, grey hair, and glasses that looked like they belonged in the 1950's. His voice was low and he had a boring personality.

I didn't like him.

"So Isabella, how are you feeling?" He jumped right into the conversation. Apparently he didn't have time for small talk.

Everything hurts. But I didn't say that.

"My throat and head are sore" I bluntly said. As well as every other part of my body.

"Well that's to be expected. You swallowed a lot of water when you jumped. Isabella you almost died." The doctor said seriously.

The confusion shows in my face. Nobody told me this. What the hell happened?

"You were rushed into the hospital on Monday and weren't breathing. Water had filled your lungs which created oxygen deprivation. It was a long process but to be safe we put you on the ventilator for the past couple of days. To be honest, nobody knew if you were going to make it. The damage to your brain was pretty significant, we weren't sure what functions you would have left. It's Friday now."

I was taken by surprise. I have been in here for five days? It has only fett like one. I don't understand this.

Though it was a huge relief that I seemed pretty normal. It was better than being crippled the rest of my life. Wasn't it?

"However that doesn't mean you're in the clear."

Gosh. what else was there? I don't think I wanted to know.

"You're mood or personality may change, there could be memory issues, you'll most likely have chronic pain and people usually in these situations will experience depression and anxiety."

That was it, seriously? It was nothing new. I already experience that everyday. Why not just add to the stress?

"I'll be fine."

No. I wouldn't.

"It's ok to hurt, especially after everything that happened to you." I could here the sympathy in his voice.

That made me like him even less.

"Is there anything we can do?" Esme asks.

"Well right now, she'll need to be kept in the hospital a few more days but I'll explain everything in a bit." The doctor said.

I understood what he really meant. What he was really saying was, "I'll explain everything to you when Isabella is not in the room so she doesn't go all suicidal again."

That's right, I read minds. It was my super power. They thought they fooled me.

Boy were they wrong.

"Does that sound ok to you Isabella?" He asks all innocent.

No.

"Yes." I say.

None of this is ok.

"A psychologist is going to come and speak with you in a little bit but until then, all you need to do is relax."

Oh fun! What was there to do in a hospital?

Oh wait, Nothing!

Dr. Hanover performed a neurological examination on me. Like follow the lights with your eyes, push against my hands as hard as you can, and repeating what he says.

He didn't tell me how I did but just wrote down some notes. I slumped back against the bed and waited for the prognosis, but he didn't say anything. He stood up after exchanging a few pleasantries and left the room.

I waited for the nurse to come with pain meds but she never came.

I didn't complain.

Esme and Carlisle had left me alone.

I was glad until I realized why.

The psychologist was here.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She sweetly asked.

I wanted to smack that grin off her face. She had a notepad and pen in her hand.

"Do whatever you want." I said in a dismissive tone.

It's not like I actually had any say. If I did then this woman would not be here right now and I wouldn't be in the hospital.

"Great!" She acted as if she hadn't even heard my comment. She grabbed the chair and pulled it right next to the bed. I could smell her perfume. It made me want to gag.

"I'm Dr. Elaine Parker, a psychologist at Seattle Hospital," she said, "You're Isabella Swan correct?"She asked as if she didn't know. How dumb was this woman?

I nodded my head.

Dr. Parker had straight blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. Her slim body perfectly fit the skin tight sweater and pencil skirt she was dressed in. She reminded me a little bit of Rosalie.

Except this woman was perky. Very perky.

"I know this is not what you expected but I want you to feel like you are in a safe environment where you can share. Do you understand?" She asks in a soprano voice.

This woman is clueless, I have decided.

"Yes." I whisper.

"Great." She mumbled again.

This was awkward. I don't know how she didn't feel it.

"In your file it said that you were seventeen years old," she said, "how are you enjoying your junior year?"

Was she serious? This woman did know why I was here, right? How else did she think my junior year was going?

"It's going fantastic." Sarcasm dripped from my voice.

She didn't immediately respond. She was writing something on her notepad. I couldn't see what.

"Junior year is the hardest year. I remember it vividly," she lets out a forced laugh, "how do you think you have been doing in school?"

I let a little huff out, "I'm not failing."

She seems taken back by my bluntness. I smile on the inside.

"I guess that's one way to look at it." She says. "Are you satisfied with your grades?"

No. No, I'm not.

"They're fine. I'm still passing class aren't I?"

"I suppose. But classes aren't your entire world, how's your social life? It must have been hard since your mother died and now your father's death. Do you hang out with friends often? Interact with other students?" She questions.

Why the fuck was she asking me these questions? What was she going to do with my responses?

"I prefer to be alone." I state. This way, I'm telling her part of the truth. So technically I'm not lying.

"Why do you like to be alone? I imagine it would get lonely sometimes." Dr. Parker answers.

"It does but…" I hesitate to answer, "but at the end of the day, it's best that way."

Yes. It is best. My mind tries to convince me. Dr. Parker seems skeptical. She writes something else on her notepad.

I purposefully avoid the first question, but she brings it up again.

"Can I take a stab at the first question?" She looks me in the eye.

I nod my shyly nod.

"You're afraid to let people in because of the first time; you were raped. You put your trust in others only to have them shattered. You have built up all these walls and are terrified to see what is on the other side. People only heard one part of the story and their reaction was brutal. You keep others away because you are scared to let them get to know the real you; you've been disappointed so many times in the past. But Isabella now, you have to face the fact that your secret, that you've kept so well hidden and protected is out in the open. People are going to get to know the real you, and will love you, just the way you are; and that scares you. Doesn't it?"

I don't answer. Instead I turn away and shakily wipe away the tears that have formed in my eyes.

I can't face her. I'm weak.

She doesn't know anything. I shouldn't believe what she says.

I shouldn't but apart of me does.

Why else would I be crying?

"You can eventually let your walls crumble and start to heal. Trust me when I say this, you will feel a whole lot better." She says.

I listen to her words. I don't know whether or not to believe her. I want to scream, No! But something is telling me otherwise.

Maybe all I had to do was let it go and breathe.