AN: Chapter is short but was tough to pull together. It's a short chapter but I couldn't pull anymore out. Went on vacation which was the cause of the hiatus.

Thanks to my beta adt216.

Chapter 20

"A swollen sun melting at the horizon,

Between the sheets I wait for her to come.
A living flame, impossible to resist,
Burning me deep with every bite, kiss and lick.
Oh I'm haunted
Oh I'm haunted
Oh I'm haunted (by her).
Invades my sleep with tumescent intentions,
Hades I'm sure must be missing a demon
I hate the morning
I hate the morning.
From the panes a green mist swirls
Is it a shadow of reflection?
This apparition in moonbeams bathed
A voice like wind through trees beckons.
Cool rain on hot summer stone
The odor fills my presence,
Of freshly dug grave and death and night
These things are her essence.
Nocturnal mistress, spirit lover,
your mouth of wine and wood smoke taste
My goddess of the violet twilight

You are lust incarnate.
In the sweat of my bed
The eastern sky hints of dawning,
Alone and awake but exhausted I lie

Oh how I hate the morning." – Haunted, Type O Negative

C.

The disaster that had been my birthday weekend faded into the far recesses of my mind, yet it lay just beneath my skin. Every sensory stimulant played mutedly in the murky background of my ears and mind. I wanted nothing- hearing, seeing, or feeling.

Comfort came in the form of naught. Wanting nothing and getting nothing were very different entities. All I had was pain. It was my companion in sleep, on stage, while pissing, while sliding the needle into a vein, and didn't fade when Golden Girl wrapped herself around me.

The few cities we'd gone to after Atlanta had all been a big blur. I didn't find out where we were at until two seconds before I got on stage. It had been almost a week since Atlanta and she hadn't said anything or looked at me. No one said much of anything to me.

Josie sent me an email on Facebook telling me she was done and to not bother her anymore. That was fine; I couldn't give a shit less about her. The girl I did care for wouldn't have shit to do with me.

At night, I lay in my bunk, curled in on my side, and gripped the sheets where she used to lay. In those moments, my heart felt as if a vice had wrapped around it, squeezing out every ounce of agony it could bestow. There was no reprieve in sleep as my dreams were riddled with her, be they good or bad.

My innards twisted and snarled as if they were an octopus trying to reach into my soul and turn me inside out. In the daylight hours, I stayed in the lounge area watching TV, or at least pretending to. One day Alice questioned me as to why I was watching "What Not to Wear" on TLC. I answered her by shrugging my shoulders, staring at nothing beyond her head. My company most days was either Snow White or Golden Girl, sometimes both at the same time.

No matter what substance I put in me, it didn't take away the pain. Sometimes, they heightened the emotion. Nothing I did remedied the situation. I would curl up, straighten out on my back, lie on my stomach, stand up, walk around, but nothing; I mean nothing took the twisting, stabbing, aching hell away.

One night, I forgot which night, when I was more drunk than stoned, I stumbled out of my bunk and wandered up to the front. It felt like some force was pulling me to her. A small, dim overhead light shone above her and she laid there with an open book pressed flat against her chest as her face was tilted towards her shoulder. She looked peaceful in her sleep, even with a thick strand of hair sweeping across her face.

I kneeled down, rested my elbow on my knee, and stroked the top of her hand. I worried that my touch would wake her and she would cause a scene, but she was deep in slumber. After a few minutes of resting my hand on hers, I moved it to the strand of hair and moved it back off her face. As I sat and stared at her perfect, white, porcelain skin, I silently wept. I did nothing to staunch the flow nor did I wipe them away.

My throat, heart, and guts tightened and a new blaze of acid shot through me. It tore me apart knowing the kind of pain I caused her. My bottom lip trembled as I lowered my head and rested it on her belly. In my gentle weeping, I silently begged for her forgiveness. I know…I know I did not deserve it, but god help me I wanted it.

I stayed kneeling down for what seemed like an eternity, ignoring the pain my joints screamed at me. I earned whatever pain that was placed upon me. After my muscles begin to shake, I knew it was time to move. I leaned over before I got up and placed a soft, delicate kiss on her lips and her forehead. I took one last look at her sleeping form, turned off the light, and walked back to the lounge.

I drank my weight in Heinekens and snorted enough coke to rip apart my sinus cavity. In the morning, Jake found me face down in the white powder residue. He picked my head and upper body up and flung me to my side. In the haze of my stupor, I heard the ting of the mirror hitting the glass of the beer bottles in the trash can. He and Emmett hauled my weightless ass up into my bunk, murmuring they didn't want Carlisle or the girls to see me this way. I didn't care.

Bella stayed true to her word and moved herself back out to the sofa that she had claimed when she first came to us. It wasn't like I didn't think she would keep her word, but I had hoped for a small miracle that she wouldn't. Sleeping alone in my bunk after weeks of having her soft, warm body next to me was the first time loneliness fully weighed down upon me.

Images of our bodies entwined and the sounds we caused each other to make haunted my dreams when I slept and my thoughts when I was awake. Several times, I tried jerking off to alleviate the stress of the memories, but it wasn't my salvation. In actuality, I longed for those dreams each night when I laid my head on my pillow. In the dreams, she was still with me, wanting me to touch her, kiss her, and hold her close to my body. Even though I welcomed them, the dreams added to the ache that never ended, all the while I wished I wouldn't wake up.

In the early morning hours, I would wake up covered in sweat- the sheets and blanket soaked. Memories of her body dancing above mine or down on her knees worshipping me gutted me, as she was lust incarnate. She drained me of everything that I was. When I came fully to from the haze of lust induced dreams, I was slammed with reality as my ghostly apparition that haunted me had never been there, leaving me with cold, wet sheets.

One night after a show in Charlotte, North Carolina, I was sitting on the other side of the bus in front drinking a beer and reading emails. I sat in nothing but boxer briefs as I tried to cool down from the show and from the intensity of the heat and the humidity. A couple of those Army guys that we had seen back in Georgia sent me a few emails on Facebook. They were cool guys.

During the middle of sending emails back and forth, Bella came up front from the lounge wearing nothing but tiny, white shorts and a pale blue tank top. Her long, smooth, pale legs stretched on forever. Her hair was damp and pulled back and her skin on her face was pink and dewy. With so much skin showing, the aching feeling of a hard dick filled my boxer briefs. I thanked my laptop for the coverage.

The ache of wanting whirled through my head and body. She sat down on the other sofa, getting her laptop ready, and placed her bottle of Dr. Pepper on the floor. Her fingers clicked a few keys before she was smiling at something on the screen. Quickly, the sexual want subsided as the constant companion of pain flared to its full height.

I was nothing. I could have been another set of curtains or a pillow on the sofa. She had placed me in the background as if I was a piece of furniture she had grown accustomed to seeing everyday. My chest and rib cage tightened as it hurt to breathe. The next moment sucker punched me in the gut as Jake walked up front and sat down next to her; she smiled as she looked over at him. They both acted as if I was invisible.

They chatted for several minutes about inane bullshit until he said he was tired and was going to bed. When he got up, he looked over at me and smirked. I don't know what held me in my place, but I wanted nothing more in that moment than to punch the fuck out of him. Once he was gone, she still sat looking and laughing at her computer screen as I sat in my place in silence. She didn't move a muscle when I got up and walked to the back of the bus.

The next morning I'd gotten up before the others, which was highly uncommon, or at least I thought I had. I smelled brewed coffee and toasted bread and my stomach growled. The air around me in the walkway was cold and I was only in underwear. Scratching my chest, I leaned back so I could see if it was Bella who was awake, but she was turned on her side asleep. Frustrated grumbling and hard typing of computer keys told me it was my father. That didn't surprise me.

I blew out a long, ragged breath before walking into the lounge. If my father was already in a pissed off mood then most likely our conversation wouldn't be pleasant. We hadn't talked much since Georgia.

When I walked in, he was sitting in the booth scowling and fisting his hair as he leaned into his hand. My feet made soft thudding noises as I walked over to the coffee pot. I normally liked cream and sugar, but having plain, black coffee seemed to be more appeasing.

"Morning, son."

"Morning," I replied as I frowned at the bitter aftertaste of black coffee.

Dry, non-buttered toast lay on a Styrofoam plate next to the coffee pot. No spreads were out and I wanted strawberry jam, which I knew we didn't have. I had to settle for grape.

Carlisle sighed, closed his laptop, and patted at the empty space across from him. I wondered what he wanted to discuss this early in the morning. With my black coffee and toast in hand, I sat in my assigned seat.

"Son, there's an interview you have to do and I would like for you to be as coherent as possible. Do you think you can manage that?"

He looked at me after asking with his hands together and rested on the table. I took a bite of the stale toast and wiped the crumbs away with the back of hand. I hated doing interviews, but they were part of my job.

"Who's doing the interviewing?" I asked as I washed the toast down with the bitter coffee.

"Tia Bonetti from Hard Metal."

I shook my head at her name. She was a cute, Italian chick that resembled Cristina Scabbia from LaCuna Coil. She's interviewed us before and didn't try to pry into our personal lives.

"Also, I heard a very disturbing story about Josie from the night of your party. That young girl is highly troubled. I'd say she's just as troubled as you."

He paused as if he almost regretted saying what he did, but it didn't bother me, which was odd. I think my heavy heart ruled over me.

"Anyways, back to the story I heard from Rose and Alice. The girls told me that Josie and another guy's girlfriend were taking turns blowing that guy's dick, and then would snort his cum like it was cocaine off a mirror and lick away the reside. Afterwards, they would act as if they were addicted to it. Son, it sounds as if Sodom and Gomorrah happened that night in your hotel suite. If that story is only a nugget of what went on, I can see why Bella walked away."

My anger boiled and almost ran over. The grip I had on the mug made my hand shake and causing the mug to thump against the table. My father had no reason to make assumptions about what happened to her and me.

I pushed the mug towards him, making it slam into his laptop while it spilled over the rim.

"I'll be as coherent as I can be for the fucking interview, but don't ever mention that night ever again," I seethed, clenching my teeth and sides of the table.

Carlisle showed zero expression on his face as he wiped his hands across it and lifted the top on his computer. I pounded the table to let him know I meant what I said and then turned back out towards the hallway. Up front, Bella was awake and laughing with Alice over something on her laptop.

Frustrated and bit uncomfortable, I walked to the front where my bag and laptop was. When I entered the room, Alice looked up at me and gave me a close-mouthed smile as her eyes shown sympathy for me. Bella kept her gaze on the screen as she held her thumb between her teeth.

I palmed my chest and looked away from Alice. The ache that never faded roared to life at the sight of Bella being happy. I looked down at my bag and computer, wanting nothing than in that moment to be the one making her happy. My departure was the same as my arrival; I was as invisible to her as the air in front of her.

After I climbed into my bunk, I sat everything beside and felt underneath the mattress for my rig and the extra smack. I held them all in my hand, knowing I shouldn't but the pull to numb part of my pain screamed out loud in my head.

After preparing, injecting, and quickly feeling the warm, hazy glow envelope me, my hands flopped to my sides. Images, memories, thoughts, and words twisted and swirled inside me and outside me. The pain, the ache, the agony screeched at fever pitch- making my guts knot, snarl, and turn inside out. My body was paralyzed and kept me from turning into a ball and screaming while I pulled at my hair and skin.

Her face flickered before me; all emotions she ever showed me were on display. Her pain, her words, and her defeat were the surging force to all of my agony. I heard her laughter float and filter into me, as it seemed to try to cleanse me. Nothing could wash away the ugliness of my life, not even her love. As the word rolled around and hung in front of me, I whispered words that would fall on deaf ears.

"I love you, Bella."

Into darkness I fell, those words were my last thought. My body wanted nothing more than to wrap itself around hers and whisper words of love, regret, and forgiveness. Even in dreams, she pushed me away, sending my body, soul, and mind into a higher level of hell. The coma could last forever, I didn't care.