Chapter 14

I Know I'm Not Crazy, I Just Lost My Will

After narrowly escaping another Edward centric debacle I sit down at the kitchen table. These mishaps have been happening far too frequently. Anyone who has known me long enough will say that it looks like my life is finally coming together. I haven't taken drugs in four months. And tonight was the first time I've been drunk in a very long time. And on the rare occasion I've even been spotted smiling. But what they can't see from were they are is just how much my life has unraveled.

Since moving out here, I haven't been happy. Not that I think I really have been for most of my life. It might look like it to an outsider. But these past four months all I've been doing is pretending. Moving across the entire fucking country did nothing for me. It didn't make me not love Edward. In fact I think I love him even more now that I ever have. That whole absence makes the heart grow fonder…I always thought it was just a bunch of shit but now I'm convinced. And what the hell am I supposed to do? He seems to be convinced that he wants to see me. Writing me letters. Writing me songs. Sending me flowers. How can I ever get over him if he won't let me go?

And maybe the biggest disaster that is now affecting my life. My mother. If you can really call her that. Sure, she did give birth to me after caring me in her womb for nine months. The very fabric of my DNA might be half hers. But that is all she ever gave me. I have not one fond memory of her. She never checked my closets and under my bed for monsters before reading me a bedtime story and tucking me in. I can't even remember one hug or kiss or even something as simple as a loving smile from her. She wasn't there to help me through the difficult transition from little girl to young woman. And my Aunt and Uncle were far from affectionate either. They never really cared either, I think they just took me in for the paycheck that came from raising a fallen rock stars daughter.

I finally moved on with chapter of my life. As much as I could. I let that all go. I moved out here where no one knew who I was. No one knew my history. I finally stopped having nightmares. Because I finally stopped thinking about it. The monster that created me was safely locked up all the way across the country and she had no idea where I was. But the letters and the calls. And the fact that she was up for parole. I can't imagine a world with her freely living outside those iron bars. I can't exist in a world with her. She is a poison. And even from the safety of prison her poison drifts though the air and makes its way into my veins, making me manic.

So I sit at the cleared table solemnly, staring at three white envelopes and a bouquet of flowers. And from here I contemplate just what my options are.

Nothing. Just keep living my life ignoring these new issues and hope that they never actually hunt me down to finish me off.

Find Edward and give him the closure he seems to be looking for.

Go to Washington, petition to the parole board at my mother's parole hearing and hope they listen to my desperate pleas.

Move. Start over again. But this time do it in secret. Leave every shred of my former self behind. No more contact with old friends. Nothing. Maybe go to foreign country and be swept away in its romance. But that seems almost impossible for me.

Seek comfort and solace in what has always been a kind of savior to me, drugs and alcohol. Four months of sobriety has got to count for something, right?

I don't think that I'm ready for this one. The one thing that always seemed to be in the back of my mind. To some it might sound like an extreme solution to a rather mundane set of problems. An ex boyfriend and a crazy mother. Who doesn't have those issues? But those people also weren't me. They didn't have a complex history with drugs and alcohol, constantly clouding my thoughts. They didn't have the complicated emotional history with those people. They didn't have this evil DNA. They didn't have this depraved blood running through their veins.

Maybe I was ready for it. Maybe the best solution to all my problems past, present and future was to just give up. Everyone knows I'm good at that. How many times did I give up on the relationship with Edward only to give up on giving up and find my way back to him?

I stare that the three envelops on the table. Even if I haven't actually read a word inside of them I knew that they didn't hold the answers. So I wouldn't read them. Instead I would write a letter of my own. Even if it's not the true definition of Occam's Razor, I will believe in it. For the simplest answer is always the best.

XXXXX

It was the night that led my wrists to never be free from restraints again. Scars that I always cover. The telltale scars of my infinite sadness.

As soon as Jasper walked into the tiny apartment he spotted me sitting on the floor in my bra, panties, stockings and black high heels. He sat beside me and I rested my head on his shoulder. He brushed his fingers through my hair as I sobbed onto his sweatshirt and kissed my forehead. "What did you do, baby?"

"She left it for me." But my response is hardly audible over the sniffles and sobs and general hysteria encompassing me. "Because she knew I couldn't do it without help. Someplace she knew only I would find it." He continued to comfort me, gently rubbing my back as my breaths come in ragged pants from the continued sobs. "It's not working!" I shouted and removed the black heels from my feet and throw them across the messy apartment. "I just want it to stop. I need it to stop. Make it stop." I continued to sob. And being the amazing friend he is, he just sat there and let my mascara stain his favorite sweatshirt. "Make it stop," I continued to chant as he rocked me back and forth gently.

After minutes of this my tears finally dried up and Jasper lifted my chin and forced me to look at him. I've never felt more guilty in my entire life. "Let's get you cleaned up." Is all he said. No yelling. Not even a disappointed look. His eyes just look sad. And not that pity sad that I always get. Just sad.

He washed my face for me and helped me reapply my makeup. "I'm sorry," I said. I know he's disappointed in me but he won't show it. He understands. At least this time. Dealing with death is never easy, who was he to critisize me in drugging myself to help with the grief? He nodded his head and instructed me to lift my arms so he could put my dress on me. He sat me on the bed and got me a glass of water. I didn't deserve a friend like him. I sipped the water and looked up at him, tears threatening to spill again when I met his eyes. His sweet brown eyes filled with so much sadness. "It's my fault," I choked out. "I should have-I could have…"

Jasper again wrapped his arms around me and hushed me, trying his best to comfort me. It's not like I made her kill herself. I couldn't have stopped it. But that's just the thing. I might have been able to change things. She could have had a better life. She had potential. She had promise. I fucked that all up. It should be me lying in that coffin, my eyes closed in that final sleep. "Angela did this to herself, baby. She was a troubled kid that...I don't know but it's not your fault." But he didn't know. No one will ever know. I will carry this guilt with me until the day I die. It should have been me. I brought her into that lifestyle. "We better get going." He nodded, grabbing a coat for me.

After he got dressed he lead me out into his car and I leaned my head against the glass and watched the world spin by. "Has Edward called you?" I asked hesitantly, gnawing on my bottom lip nervously. Jasper shook his head. I don't know what I was expecting. Of course he wouldn't try to call me or Jasper. He doesn't care. He was just in it for the sex. He just wanted to use me like everyone else. Jasper's the only person that I've got left in the world.

I sat in corner, trying to blend in, trying to not break down here. I hid at the funeral that I had made arrangements for and paid for as her undeserving parents, my former guardians got all the support and condolences. The burning hatred bubbled inside my veins. Jasper sat beside me, gripping my hand so tightly that I thought he was cutting off circulation.

My eyes scanned the room and out of the corner of my eye I catch my Uncles gaze on me, that familiar glint in his eye. I resisted the urge to walk over and give him a piece of my mind. He's not worth it. I won't let him upset me. I excuse myself from Jasper and walked to the bathroom. Too many people. I hate these public bathrooms. I search the funeral parlor finding an empty viewing room all for myself. I closed the door and hideaway in the corner, frantically searching my purse. I curse to myself and dump everything to the floor and sit, in a very unladylike manor, my dress hiked up past my thighs, and rummage through the contents. "Looking for this?" Jasper entered the room, extracting a baggie from his pocket.

"Give it to me!" I shouted. "I need it!" Desperately crawling on my knees over to him. He protested, giving me a lecture that I refuse to pay attention to. He just doesn't get it. "She left it to me. She left it for this!" He furrowed his brow trying to understand my words and I just keep shouting. I don't care if people can hear me or not. "She left it for me with a note, in a place where only I would find it. I need it, Jazz," I begged, sobbing at his feet. "She knew I needed it! You have no idea!" He just stood there and watched me breakdown. When I was reduced to nothing but a sobbing child he sat down in front of me and cradled me again. "I can't do this alone," I whisper.

He kissed the top of my head. "You have me." He sighed. "You'll always have me." There is a pause that lasted for several minutes before he continued. "You need help, Bella."

I shook my head, wiping the tears from my face. "No, Angie needed help." I sniffled. "All I need is for you to give it back to me."

Jasper didn't respond however someone did. "Give it back to her," Edward says, walking in looking very good in his respectable suit hands in his pockets, looking down to the floor uncomfortably.

Jasper sighed and conceded, handing me back my salvation. He walked out, staring Edward down the entire time. My shaky hands held the baggie as tight as possible. I couldn't lose it again. Edward walked over and sat beside me watching as I carefully measured out a line. "How'd you find me?" I asked as soon as the drug was in my system, trying to clean the smeared makeup from my face.

"I called Mr. Conway." He nodded, uneasily.

I looked up into his soft green eyes, new tears threatening to fall. I felt so lost. I felt so alone. "All you had to do was call me," I say, my voice soft and scared, bursting with sadness. A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth and I felt a warm tear drop from my eyes. I wiped it away quickly and ran out of the room into the safety of the rental car. I started the car, hands shaking wildly as they gripped the wheel as I make my way back to Angela's apartment.

I poured the white powder over the floor and I found solace in the present that Angela left me. I let the beautiful drug slowly take over my senses. Every negative emotion leaving my body leaving me feeling weightless and free. I sat for a second as my mind went a hundred miles an hour in another direction. Angela ended her life there. It seemed only fitting that I do the same. After all, we grew up, living the same basic hell. Sure mine was justified. When I moved in with her, she was an innocent kid and I ruined that for her. To selfishly rid myself of the sadness I filled myself with drugs. She followed suit, looking up to the cool 'rock star's daughter'. I introduced her to a world of drugs, pain and depression. Maybe if we never lived together she would be a preschool teacher, married with three kids a dog and a house. Maybe she would have the American dream. It seemed doubtful. After all, her parents were lowlifes. The same evil that ran through my mother's veins ran through my Uncle's as well. But it was possible that her life could have been happy and normal without me.

So with my mind consumed with guilt and a drug induced haze I held the razor to my wrist and pressed firmly. An overwhelming sting of pain made my adrenaline rush, my high increasing as I watched the small red river flow down my arm and to the dirty hardwood floors. I switched the blade to the other hand and repeated the process. I didn't even bother to write notes. I didn't exactly have a lot of friends. Edward didn't care. I should have written something for Jasper. He at least deserved that. But as my life slowly fell from my body and pooled on the floor, all I could think about was sleep. So I lied on my side and stared at the only thing left in the apartment. A picture of Jasper, Edward, Angela and myself. All with happy smiles on our faces. I close my eyes happy that was the last sight of my life.

But of course it wasn't. I'm not sure who it was that came to my rescue that night. They never told. But when I woke in the hospital they were both at my side, offing their love and support.

XXXXX

I had removed my wristband and stared at my old scar, my finger tracing the deep lines. It's not that I want to kill myself. I just want to do something stupid. That's why I used to take so many drugs. But I have no drugs so there just seems to be one stupid thing left to do. I grab a knife and I pressed down just enough to make a small cut and allow a small amount of warm blood to get lost on the outside of my body. And as I watch as beads of blood to form and slowly flow down my arm I come to my senses. Fuck Occam's Razor! That's just stupid scientific jargon used to make guessing sound smart. I drop the knife, a loud clatter as it falls from my hand to the table and finally to the floor. I start to cry and hold my wrists out in front of me, watching the blood come slowly.

"I heard a noise." Jacob chooses that moment to walk in.

"What are you doing up?" I ask, cursing his timing. I must have looked like something from a horror film; tear stained face and bloodied hands.

He ignores me as his vision falls to the small pool of blood on the table. "Fuck, Bella." He slams the door behind him and rushes over to me.

He reaches for my cell phone but I grab hold of his arm with a painfully hard grip. "Don't you dare," I growl, shaking my head at him. "Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone." He drops my phone to the table and settles into the chair across from me. He doesn't say anything, he just watches me with his judgmental brown eyes. "It was an accident."

"It doesn't look like an accident to me." He refuses to look into my eyes. I can tell how terrified he is. He is just a boy after all. A boy afraid that any word that carelessly fumbles from his lips would make me kill myself right then and there in front of him. "Like, how the fuck do you accidentally slice your wrist? It just doesn't happen."

"I know," I sigh. "It's really difficult for me to put into words." I wipe at the tears falling down my cheeks. "And it doesn't really matter anyway. I didn't really do anything. It's more like a bad paper cut."

"Shut up!" He shouts at me. "Stop making excuses for everything," he chastises. "That's all you ever do." He rolls his eyes and searches my hall closest for a first aid kit. "Let me guess it wasn't your fault."

"You're being particularly mean."

"And you're being a particularly dumb bitch." He runs an alcohol pad over my wound, making it sting. "You're an adult, learn to deal with all of your issues like an adult." He dresses the cut with a bandage and returns to his seat. "I'm 14. I'm in the middle of God's cruel experiment that is puberty. My parents are getting a divorce. My girlfriend dumped me before I even got to touch her boobs. I failed math last year. Had my underwear stolen at school and put on display in the girl's locker room last year, still not sure how that whole thing went down, but it did. I get an erection if I even so much as think of a girl smiling at me. And just last week, my dad caught me smoking and my mom walked in on me while I was…you know. I know none of that compares to what happened with your mom. But to me, all those extremely personal things I told you about…they all seem like the end of the world for me. Because I am 14. You are 24. You're much better equipped to handle all sorts of issues. I shouldn't be the one that has to worry about you. I shouldn't be the one on suicide watch."

"I know." I stare at the table uncomfortably, having just been put in my place by a 14-year-old kid.

"And might I add, that if you didn't use drugs as an escape all those years ago, maybe you wouldn't be such a fucked up mess today. Maybe you would actually be over it." He stands and gets himself a beer from my fridge.

"What did I tell you about that, kid."

"Hey!" he shouts. "You don't get to lecture me anymore. If I'm going to stay here all night making sure you don't do something dumb… I'm going to drink. Because I'm 14 and I get to make these stupid mistakes. Come on what kind of trouble were you getting into at 14?"

"A lot more than beer." I nodded.

"Yeah, I thought so. So yeah, shut the fuck up." He cracks it open and takes a long empowering drink.

"I wasn't really thinking of killing myself." I explained. "It crossed my mind for a second. But I knew it was stupid. I just wanted to make a small cut. A little reminder. I need an outlet."

"Then fucking paint a picture! What the fuck were you trying to do?"

I shrug. "Trying to induce a life changing epiphany." I sigh heavily. "This is the first time in my life that I'm dealing with adult issues on my own. Really on my own." I light a cigarette. "I always had help in drugs. Or an escape in sex. Or something equally as stupid. That's what the knife was, the next progression in stupid. Making a small insignificant cut to… You wouldn't really understand the whole cutting thing. That's way too complicated to explain right now. And I'm still a little drunk. Please don't lecture me on that too. There is a long story involved in that…" I ramble. "But getting back to my issues…And for a long time there was Edward. He was a good voice of reason. And Jasper. Jasper was always my guardian angel. He was always there when I needed him. But lately he's been… he has so much other shit on his plate. And I get it. He doesn't need to deal with my bullshit. And he shouldn't have to. He's getting married. He'll be having a family soon. And I think he's just sick of me." I slide my wristband back over the bandage.

"You're talking stupid again." Jacob warns. "Jasper will always be there for you. And now you might not realize it, but even his fiancée will be there for you. And I'm right here, asshole."

"Like you said, I should be babysitting you. Not the other way around."

"I don't need a babysitter." He glares. "And neither do you. But I thought that somehow in some weird and fucked up way we became friends. You know, the type of people you call to talk when you're drunk and thinking of doing something stupid."

"But you're just a kid."

"And you act like one so I think we're even."

"I hate it when you're right." I grimace. That kid. I love him. "You're just like Jasper." I state simply, lifting my head slowly to look at him with a smile. "You're too smart for your own damn good. And for some reason you seem to be very protective of me but I'm the adult and I'm supposed to be looking after you."

"Yeah, I don't see that happening." He shakes his head. "And since we're at a safe place in our conversation now I feel the need to tell you that you aren't wearing any pants. Or from what I can tell…a bra." He stutters. "And because I'm a 14-year-old boy it's beginning to make me a little... uncomfortable given the circumstances."

I raise an eyebrow and roll my eyes. "You're such a little perv." I grab a pair of Jasper's boxers from the floor and threw them on. Why he has a pair of boxers on my floor, I do not know, nor do I really want to.

"But an honest little perv." He shrugs. "So you're okay?"

"I'm okay." I give him a reassuring nod. I walk to the bedroom to find a real pair of pants. Wearing Jasper's possibly dirty boxers just isn't going to cut it for me. Plus, I've already flashed Jacob once so the more clothing I can wear at this point the better. I turn back to him as he steps into the doorframe. "How are you?"

He looks at me with confusion. "I'm good."

"You taking the divorce news well?"

He nods again. "It's about fucking time."

I sit on the bed and he leans against the doorframe now waiting for my big reveal. I sigh, he's going to find out anyway. "I fucked Carlisle."

Jacob moves and sits beside me. "And?"

I turn to look at him with my face drawn in confusion. "What you want a detailed report?"

"No." He shakes his head as if trying to shake loose that idea from his mind. "What's the big deal? No offence but you…" He trails off not wanting to finish the sentence. Smart boy. But I don't really give a fuck. I know I've been a bit of a slut. Or a lot of one for that matter.

I sigh heavily. "I fucked another member of his band. That's what!"

"Oh. That Carlisle." Jacob's eyes grow wide. "Well, h-what do you mean another?"

I cringe. "You're too young to be hearing of my sexual exploits." I pat his head affectionately. "But the moral of the story is don't have casual sex. It'll eventually come back to bite you in the ass."

"I can't even get a girl to let me touch her boobs let alone have sex." He rolls his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?" Jacob asks.

I exhale loudly and rest my head on his shoulder. "I'm never going to be okay, baby."

"Bella," Jacob sighs heavily. "I love you to death but Jesus!" He shouts and immediately stands. "You can't just sit here and cry about how much your life sucks. Everyone's life sucks!"

I suck in my bottom lip and stare at him. "You sound just like him." I crack a small smile.

He turns to me slowly and furrows his brow. "What? Jasper?"

"No." I shake my head. "Edward."