Chapter Twenty-One: A Form of Poison

The doctors are as surprised as I am when I heal faster than expected. I have a good guess at why I'm healing faster—it likely has to do with the fact that, because of modern medicine that I'm used to, and keep in my bag for safety reasons—and they are skeptical. I am off morphine by the second day and by the third day, both my ankle and my formally dislocated shoulder's casts are ready to come off. The doctors formally discharge me the following day, as I am left-handed and able to write Bella Swan on the papers pushed at me.

As it is part of hospital protocol, Marie must escort me out of there in a wheelchair so as I don't fall and potentially sue anyone. I roll my eyes at the rule, and then question the whereabouts of Sue and Harry. Marie says that they expressed worry for my well-being, but—as they are merely pretending to be my parents—did not have to physically see me in the hospital. I nod like I understand as I am wheeled to the car.

Renee bursts forth from the car and opens the back door for me. She throws her arms around me, sobbing a little before pulling back and inspecting my face. "I'd kiss you, but I don't want anyone here getting the wrong ideas."

I chuckle lightly, not wanting to get lost in a potential conversation regarding homosexuality with my teenaged mother at the moment. "Don't worry about it, Renee. I understand." I am quickly helped into the car and sit silently in the back seat. "It's the sixteenth?" I ask as Marie pulls out of the parking lot.

"Yeah," she replies.

I sigh and lean back on the seat. I miss Edward already. It is then that I realize that he will need me, so I open the door. I don't even ask Marie to stop the car; I merely tuck and roll out on the hard concrete. I am surprised that I get out of it with only some minor aches, so I run back to the hospital. Marie has, by this time, back peddled so that she can ask me what the hell is going on, but I don't even give her the time of day. I rush through the hospital doors and find myself running down one hall and up another.

"Edward!" I cry, and then I am by his door. I open it, and see an empty bed. My heart nearly stops as I feel like I will vomit, my knees weakening. "Edward?" I whisper, advancing upon the bed and looking around.

"You looking for the young man who stayed in here?" asks a kind-sounding voice from behind me. "A Edward Cullen?"

I turn around and see the nurse that helped me on my first night here. I instantly remember that Heidi was her name, so I get real close to let her know that I mean business here. "Heidi, I'm looking for Edward, yeah," I say.

"He was discharged shortly after you were," Heidi replied.

"But where is he?!" I cry, reaching out and shaking her a bit violently. I step back, visibly shaking as I take in her words. "But…discharged?" I whisper, thinking about the young man that I'd spent every waking moment with during my time here. "I…I need to know what happened here...please. Give me some information, please, I'm begging you, Heidi, I need the information immediately, I—"

"And why should I give you that?" she interrupts me.

I blink, wondering what Heidi's problem was, other than the obvious of me shaking her and potentially rattling her both emotionally and physically. "But, Heidi…" I hesitate, believing her to be my friend, or, at least, a medical ally of some kind; I'd thought so. "Heidi, I'm Edward's girlfriend, you know that! You've got to tell me!"

She shakes her blonde head, almost as if she doesn't believe me, and that she is beyond caring at this point. "Sorry," she says, going back to her ever-present clipboard with various names and the like scrawled onto its un-computer-like surface. "My hands are tied."

"Heidi," I say, reaching out and touching her arm. "Please, I'm begging you. I just know that something's not right here. Something's wrong, and I know it. I'm going to get to the bottom of this; I have to. Please, please, do us both a favor and just tell me where he is, please. I'm his girlfriend…" I say, feeling humiliated as tears begin to form in my eyes.

I am surprised when Heidi gets this phony-looking smile on her face, almost as if we are being watched. "Please, Miss Swan, I would suggest that you go and not worry about Edward. He probably said that you were his girlfriend to make you recover better or something. I mean, look at him, look at you. You are clearly out of his league…"

But that is all she manages to get out. I grab a syringe that is lying in wait in her pocket, practically wanting to be grabbed. I lash out with it and with all my strength, hold her up against the wall. "This thing says penicillin," I growl right in her face, and even I detect the fear at the back of my voice. "If I recall, you told me that you were allergic to the stuff, just like I am. Now, why don't you give me the information, or I swear, I'm going to give you such a puncture wound…"

Heidi is trembling when I suddenly notice that she is grabbing ahold of her walkie, which is when my blood runs cold. If only I could smash that electronic device, and then run out a back door or something…

"Security!" she is screaming frantically, and all is lost to me then. "Security! I need you here in Ward C now!"

Perhaps they managed to lock quickly onto her exact coordinates or maybe there's one officer lurking per hallway. Needless to say I am grabbed, the syringe is ripped from my fingers, and Heidi is released, much to her satisfaction. I think for a moment that I should go quietly, but there's no such luck.

"You let go of me, you goddamn jerks!" I scream at them, and then I am thrashing in their massive arms. "Let me go this minute, I say! That nurse just wouldn't give me the information that I wanted! Let me go, now!" I know I sound like I'm going crazy, but I don't care. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to scratch Heidi's eyes out and to wipe that triumphant and smug look off her face, slowly… I am dragged away then, informing them that I need the information of Edward's whereabouts immediately, but it does no good.

I never thought that I'd see the inside of a security office—not in the situation that I'd be on the bad side, at least. They bring me in and throw me, hard, down onto a chair; I've just been proven crazy pre-psychological exam, and, therefore, I don't deserve to be treated humanely. I cross my arms and glare at each and every one of them, not willing to talk, and certainly not willing to move. I then turn my face away to the wall, unwilling to do anything.

"What's your name?"

I don't say anything.

"Hey!" The man slammed his fist down onto the table, which very nearly made me jump in a moment of fear. "This would be a whole lot easier if you just cooperated. Maybe explain the situation for starters, and then we'll see about the charges."

Charges?! Were they kidding?! All I did was threaten Heidi...with a loaded syringe full of a drug that could potentially kill her. Maybe she would need some therapy after this, but she seemed all right. I couldn't believe what I had done, or what had come over me in getting the information I needed to know about Edward's whereabouts. I'd never done anything like that, and I didn't want to, ever again.

"Girl!" screams that nuisance of an officer. Then he is grabbing roughly at my face so that I will look at him. Feeling that anger that broke the surface barrier before, I no longer feel like I am connected to my body.

I give him the most loathsome look I can muster, before taking a good look at his hand. Then my teeth are on him and I'm not letting go. I'm biting and biting, and he's screaming and screaming, and I taste blood. Immediately, other officers are swarming us, and I am knocked away from Macho Man #1. After my head hits the concrete wall, I am spiraling in my head, and it feels warm on the spot that I've hit.

I let out a sigh, spitting out the man's blood. "Next time, keep your hands off," I grumble at them before the blackness comes to envelope me.

. . .

The harsh smell of mildew wakes me up, sending my nose into a frenzy of distaste, and my head informing me that I'm going to be sick. I open my eyes and look around me. I see quickly that I am in some sort of prison-like cell, and that sends me into a panic. They couldn't put me in jail, could they?! I was a minor, after all…

I go to the door and bang on it. I am shaking, and I need answers now. "Could someone talk to me, please?!" I yell.

A guard comes up to my door and looks me up and down. "Oh," he says then. "So you're the one who threatened assault on the nurse and bit that officer?"

I go pale. "I… What?"

The guard gives me a small smile. "Don't worry about it, kid," he says. "Your case got a hearing," he continues before giving me a concerned look. "You hungry?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"Come on," he says. He unlocks my door, the rusty bolt like a squeal in my ears, before he takes me by the arm. "Orders, Miss Swan," he says patiently. "We've judged you not a direct threat, otherwise, you'd be in handcuffs."

I nod, his gentle grip a far better alternative, and yet wonder why I haven't been judged a threat, but don't have the guts to ask. "Of course, sir. I get it."

We walk to the cafeteria area and I am allowed to pick what I want to eat. I choose a cheeseburger and juice and a cookie before going to sit down. A sign on the wall dubs this place King County Juvenile Detention, and a shiver goes down my spine at the meaning of it all as I take a bite out of my burger. It is mediocre at best—dry and without flavor on a soggy bun—and my orange jumpsuit is so not the color for me.

"How are you doin'?" my guard asks, chewing on a bendy-looking slice of pizza, decorated with olives and pepperoni.

"Fine," I reply.

"What's your name?"

"Bella," I say, knowing that I still have to play the part as I stare down at the green tabletop in front of me. "Bella Swan. I just wonder where my sister got to…"

"Does she look like you? I mean, exactly like you?"

I nod, looking up. "Yeah," I reply. "Her name is Marie."

He nods. "Yeah. Marie and this one other girl…"

"Renee?" I ask.

"Renee, that was it!" he replies, snapping his fingers. "They came looking for you earlier, but I'm afraid couldn't let them see you."

"Why?"

"One, you were asleep, and two, it wasn't visiting hours."

"When are visiting hours?" I ask, picking at my cookie.

"Not until tomorrow," he replies, his tone sympathetic. "You arrived just after three, when visiting hours are over."

"I'm in the Central District, right?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah. Apparently, you and your sister live a mere forty seconds from here by car. At least, that's what she told me."

"Four minutes by foot and bus, and two by bike," I say softly, sticking the straw into the juice box and sipping slowly. "What a small world it is…"

"Very small," says the guard, chewing his pizza.

"Did Bella or Renee mention Edward?"

"No. Who's Edward?" he asks.

"Nobody—I mean, he's not an accomplice or anything," I say, not wanting to get his name mixed up in this. I realize that I grabbed an oatmeal raisin cookie instead of a chocolate chip, and the guard offers me his sugar cookie. It's not my favorite, but I know I should accept his considerate offer. He knows my hands are clean, as I washed them shortly before the two of us arrived in here. I thank him and take the cookie and handing over my rejected one.

We eat in silence for the rest of the meal. I am allowed to walk outside for half an hour, and then it's back inside for recreation. I choose Great Expectations from a bookshelf and feel a lot like Pip, especially now. I thumb through the paperback copy, trying to find something of significance, when I see two large shoed feet appear in front of me. I raise my eyes, and see a young girl, probably about seventeen, glaring down at me.

"May I help you?" I ask.

"You're the new girl?" she demands harshly.

I nod. "Yeah. I'm Bella."

She reaches out and backhands me across the face. I fall from where I was sitting in the corner and onto the floor. I taste copper, and I desperately want to fight back, but I don't move. I stay on the ground as this older girl lays brutally into me. She kicks me and laughs, not stopping until I hear shouts of who I think are adults and then the kicking stops.

I am lifted up by strong hands and carried to a sterile environment. I soon judge it to be a nurses' office, where I am overseen. The nurse tells me that I've got two black eyes—one from the slap and one from crashing down to the floor—a bloody nose and a cut lip. She gives me pain medication, to be held onto by my guard, should I decide to overdose.

I am then taken to a new room, one more forgiving and less harsh than the cell that I'd been held in before. This one had a proper bed, one window, a desk full of paper and pencils (dulled ones), and a closet full of orange jumpsuits in exactly my size. My guard leaves the room and the nurse comes in to help me into the prison nightgown—due to my newly fractured shoulder—before my head hits the pillow and I stare up at the ceiling. I cannot believe this turn of events, and vow to do well at my hearing to get out of here as soon as possible. I finally allow myself to shut my eyes and force myself to fall asleep.

. . .

The girl that assaulted me had a whole battery of issues. Her name was Emily Young, and I don't even want to laugh at the irony of that name, because she looked anything but young, if I'm being upfront about it. I keep to my room, and my guard has managed to sneak a copy of Great Expectations to me, and has also received permission for me to take my meals, as well as my visitors, in my bedroom.

I write letters to Edward, which I keep in my top desk drawer. Nobody suspects me of being so terribly bad, so I am allowed some privacy. I write him once a day, and save the letters. In case we are ever reunited, I will want him to know what I have been up to. I tell him about how I almost fought valiantly against Sally, before she sicked security on me. I tell him about my guard and how kind he is to me. I also tell him about the biting, and at my injuries that I sustained by Emily Young.

Marie and Renee are permitted to see me for an hour and a half each afternoon during my stint there. I am glad to see some familiar faces, although they are not allowed to ask me what brought me here. We are allowed to discuss the upcoming trial, and what it is like for me in here. I don't dare ask about Edward, for I fear that he may be lost forever.

They tell me that the man who attacked Marie and me, and shot Edward, in the park a few nights ago, was finally caught on an unrelated charge. I did not want to go to the police and tell them that he was also responsible for major injuries for me, potential psychological trauma for Marie, and a near death experience for Edward; I know it will alter the timeline if I do so. It was also because I did not want to deal with it directly.

I know that he would eventually end up on Death Row. I've just had to make peace with it and move on. By May of 1994, he would be dead and gone, and hopefully by that time, I will be out of here and back in my own time. Only, it would not be my own time without Edward, for I'd come to realize just how important he was to me.

I have numerous nightmares for the five days that I am in there. All of them are of Edward trying to get to me, or me trying to get to Edward. There is always some obstacle preventing it from happening, however, and I find that I always wake up screaming and feeling totally and completely lost. I know that I must do double time when I am out of here—get my parents together, and find a way to figure out what happened to Edward.

Of course, no matter what happened, Edward would always be born. His parents were madly in love, and they gave no indication of splitting up. However, the Edward I returned to would not have the memories sustained on this journey, and I did not want him to forget. I wanted him to remember it all, which is why I had to find him before Friday.

On the afternoon of my fifth day, I was waiting for Marie and Renee to pay me their visit, and when three o'clock came and went, needless to say I was more than a little worried. I consulted my guard, who just kept smiling at me. It was slowly beginning to get on my nerves—as well as creep me out, to be honest.

"Come on! What's happening?" I cried.

He takes his keys out of his belt. "Someone managed to get you a good lawyer," he explains in a congratulatory tone as he unlocks my cell door. "It seems as though you got yourself a sentence of probation this time around, Miss Swan," he says, unlocking my door.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Beaufort," he replies, and I am suddenly reminded of an old noble family name.

"Nice name," I tell him. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one," he replies, looking away, and I feel as if he's lying.

"Do you have a good memory, Beaufort?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

"Do you have a pencil and paper?"

He hesitates, but hands them over. I write down my address and the date to come, and hand it back to him. "What's this?" he asks.

"My address," I reply.

"But…why 2013?" he asks.

I smile. "I've got a boyfriend, if that's what you're thinking," I tell him. "But, to tell you the truth, I do have you in mind for someone, but she's just gotta grow up a little bit first," I explain to him. I step closer. "You're a good man, Beaufort. And I hope that you can keep a secret."

He nods. "I can."

I smile up at him. "The reason why I put down that year is because I'm from the year 2013," I reply, wondering if Beaufort will think I'm a total nutcase, but decide to risk it, one last time. "I time travelled back here so that I can get my parents together. Now I've got to do that, and get my boyfriend back all before Friday."

"So…Marie is your mother?" he asks, biting his lip in anticipation.

"No. Renee is my mother."

"So…Marie is available, then?" Beaufort says, looking immediately relieved.

I blink. So, he really was interested in Marie… "Yeah," I say slowly. "Very."

"What's her number, Bella?" he asks.

I sigh. "Really, Beaufort?" I ask. "You can't wait twenty-one years?"

"No," he says. He takes out his I.D. and shows it to me. It clearly says that he is eighteen, not twenty-one. "I've got to have her number. Please. When you were talking with Renee, your mom, the other day, I don't know… It was totally mind-blowing, I… We just sort of, clicked, Isabella…"

I sigh. "Just Bella," I whisper. "Marie isn't my twin sister, she's my second cousin. And if you're really serious about being eighteen years old—" I say, grinning as I mockingly attempt to peek at his I.D. again.

"I am, I am!" he cries, thrusting it at me.

"Fine." I step forward and whisper, "Its 206-555-7178. Do you think that you can remember all that, Beaufort?"

He quickly writes it down. "Yeah."

"Good," I say. "Now, I am ready to leave this godforsaken hellhole."