I swore it was no cliffy. Remember that Bella is depressed, but she is trying to get better. Though there is NO quitting cold turkey for her. :( Oh, and I also apologize for the emotional, whiny Bella here. Its not too bad though, I've seen worse.

Perfection is a struggle for anyone,
With tears that fall,
And the love of a life lost,
With pain and misfortune
We loss sight of what matters most,
To the people that care,
Even to the ones that don't.

BPOV
I don't know how Carlisle did it; I guess he had some very developed connections. The next day I had my appointment, and I wondered if it was pre-planned. I slept in Edward's bed that night and when I woke up, he wasn't there. The shower was running in his bathroom, and after a few minutes he emerged fully clothed. When he saw me awake he told me about the appointment.

It was not a good start to my morning.

My mind and body were still swimming in that aftershock of blood-withdrawal. The relief was gone but I still felt that weight of bliss. The high of endangering my own life – it still surfaced somewhere. My arm started to tingle. I made a decent cut yesterday, deep enough to draw that crimson blood and make me feel hard pain.

Carlisle called this visit an "introduction." No psychological questions asked. He said it would be easy, that I would hardly need to do anything. Edward said he would go with me, which I agreed to immediately.

After my cut I had wrapped my arm in some gauze under the sink and wore a sweatshirt to bed. In the morning, after delivering the news, Edward left me alone and said he would be waiting downstairs. I changed the bandages like I saw him do so much lately and went to my room to get dressed. I slipped on a pair of dark jeans and a hugely oversized black sweatshirt with "Florida" written across the chest. I layered on the concealer over my face, neck and hands, making the numerous cuts and scars.

Esme embraced me before I even made it to the bottom steps. "Good luck, honey," she whispered in my ear. I stared over her shoulder, distantly locking eyes with Edward.

"Thank you, Esme," I murmured.

She squeezed me tighter. "I love you."

For a few moments I just stood there, numb and surprised. "I love you too," I said above a whispered. Edward cocked his head to the side but said nothing.

"Bye Mom," Edward said when Esme released me. He stepped forward to catch me under his arm and pull me toward the door. Outside, it was a downpour. My arms wrapped around my torso as he escorted me to the car, closing the door behind me. Esme stood at the door but I couldn't read her expression through the sheet of rain.

I think everyone was still sleeping when we left – typical teenage behaviour. I was almost ready to drift off too as I reclined my seat; the rain created a curtain of dimness separating us from the sun.

"Edward?" I asked, turning my head to look at him.

"Hmm?"

"How much do they all know? Like...they don't know about my baby, right?" I asked.

He sighed. "Everyone knows your depressed and that you used to cut and do drugs. But Carlisle knows there's more. They don't know about what James did either, but I think Esme expects something's wrong, like a tragedy that happened when you were little." He shrugged. "But...I hope you don't get mad at me for this, I told her that you had a horrible experience with families and men... But I didn't tell her about the...the..." His voice trailed off, mild disgust in his voice.

"The rapes?" I offered icily. If anything, he should have been able to say it clearer than I could. "Gabe?"

"Yeah. Those," Edward replied gravely. He cracked his window and reached over to the console in front of me, opening it and produced a pack of cigarettes. Still watching the road, he shook one out and offered me one. I deliberated for a moment before taking one.

I cracked my window slightly as Edward lit it with a PBic lighter, a few sprinkles of water getting on my sweater.. The smoke felt good even though it brought back many memories when I was still in Florida. I couldn't do the drugs anymore – and not only because I had none – but because I knew it had to stop. With the cutting I had just as much a good chance of dying as I did with drugs; better not double the chances.

Edward drove to what seemed like the other side of Forks and down a road that looked like the exact one that led to the Cullen's house. He drove for a few moments before he started slowing to pull into a space between two closely-packed trees.

"What's with everyone living in the forest?" I asked, shaking out another cigarette and lighting it.

Edward glanced over at me. "You shouldn't smoke so much – you never know how it will react with your meds."

"It won't do a thing," I muttered. "But you never answered my question."

"Dr. Marcus has a thing for the big, and it could never fit in Forks. Just wait and see." I watched as we continued down the drive, the trees stretching overhead and keeping the rain out. The green was bright, from all the rain Forks gets, I guess, and it looked like something from a fantasy.

Just perfect.

Than the house came into view, first filling the entire space from the tree on the right to the one on the left. As Edward drove closer the house continued to expand out until it was a large rectangle with a huge staircase beside it. It looked like two rectangles stacked on top of each other with the top shape having floor to ceiling windows. It was completely white and looked every part fantasy the forest did.

But not only was it stunning and so therapist-unworthy, but it was also intimidating. I was never good at reading people but I could tell that this house just screamed "serious". I finished my cigarette and tossed it out the window, pushing my hair in front of my shoulders and adjusting my sweater.

"Bella, you'll be fine," Edward said for what had to be the millionth time. "He'll just get to know you, and he won't press you about something if you don't want to talk about it."

"But Edward, the point is for me to talk. So they can dig into my brain. So Carlisle can know that..." I drifted.

"Its confidential."

"As if," I replied icily. "Nothing's ever confidential. You can never keep a secret from anyone."

"Ah, but you have been keeping many from my family for months," Edward contradicted, grabbing my right hand comfortingly. I gently pulled my hand away, intending not to hurt his feelings but I didn't want him to see the bandage. He would freak. "Is everything okay, Bella?" he asked suspiciously, looking down at where my left hand was over my right forearm. "Do your cuts hurt?"

I hesitated for a second before stuttering out, "Uh, yes, it's a little painful."

"Can I see them? They're still open and could be infected." Edward reached forward but I quickly leaned away, again stuttering out that it was fine. That I was fine. He glanced up at the house for a second. "Please, could you roll up your sleeve for me to see?" he asked gently, giving me a small smile.

In my time of trusting Edward, I'd fallen victim for that smile – it helped contribute to agree to whatever he said. But this time I knew I had to keep my mouth shut. "No its okay. Its not bleeding," I mumbled, hand on the door. A part of me was a little embarrassed for keeping this therapist waiting so long, but I couldn't bring myself to fully care; I would do anything to get out of it.

The look on his face was scary. He didn't gain X-ray vision over night, did he? "Isabella, lift your sleeve now." It wasn't a question – a hard, angry command, actually.

I felt my face redden, in both rage and embarrassment of my weakness. I figured he would find it eventually, but after a few weeks at least when he couldn't still be angry about it. I looked up and met his eyes with my own glare, as I rolled up my sleeve to reveal the bandage. His eyes fell on it for a few seconds with an unreadable expression before he looked up, eyebrow raised.

Slowly, as I peeled back the bandage by the tape, watching as his eyes widened and recognition dawned on him.

"Bella, why?" Edward asked brokenly, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his hands over his face.

I realized that I wasn't the only one, now, being affected by the cutting. "I...I was in pain, Edward."

"Then you should have told me!" he snapped, sitting up and leaning forward in one fluid motion. We were almost face to face. "We could have prevented this if you would have told me instead of going ahead and slitting your wrist like some emo freak that needs attention!"

Whether it was his words or the fact that I was feeling betrayed by the person I've trusted the most in my life, I didn't know. But his words instantly filled my eyes with water. Didn't he understand me by now? "You...you think I do this for attention?" I asked in a weak voice. As he opened his mouth to respond, I reached over and slapped him across the face.

His neck snapped to the left, hitting his face off the headrest. Edward's eyes still burned with anger, the fury making my heart ache. He would never hit me. Never. Edward's wasn't that type of man – he had more respect than that. But still, I was terrified.

Except that didn't stop me from running my mouth.

"I don't do this for attention, Edward, I do this because I have no other way to get the pain out. I have so much inside me that I don't know what to do with it. Its like my veins are so hard, filled up with pain and the only thing to do is release it. I don't know what else to do, because I've been doing this for years!"

Before he could respond, I jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Ignoring his yelling I went up the huge case of stairs to the glass door. I knocked on the glass door as I watched Edward walking fast toward the stairs. I wiped my sweater-clad hands under my eyes, trying to spare the therapist of seeing me at my worst on the first day.

Just as Edward reached the top step and started eating into me, a tall man came to the door. I vaguely heard that Edward had stopped running his mouth and was greeting the man. He was quite handsome, in the older-man-Gerald-Butler way, with dark skin and hair to match. His eyes were a dazzling kind of blue, entrancing all the same. At the same time of finding him attractive, I took a step back and ran into Edward. It was the way he was built, the look in his eyes of friendliness, that sent me into alarm.

I felt that familiar wave of uneasiness. I had been so ready to tell Edward to leave and come back later, but now I wanted to hold onto him and never let go, forgetting completely about everything he said to me. I was already terrified of this man.

"Dr. Marcus, this is Bella," Edward said gently, and so quiet that I wondered if I only heard it in my head. He nudged me forward slightly as Dr. Marcus held out his hand.

But all I could think I was: He looked like Vincent. The body type – so bitterly familiar – and the eyes. It felt like looking into the past, remembering countless nights of terror and pain. And worst of all, it brought back the images of my baby.

I shook my head at his hand and stepped back so I was behind Edward, resting my cheek against his back, leaving wet streaks down his jacket. Edward led me forward wordlessly, saying something that sounded like "give us a moment." I felt him try to pry me away from his back, but I won't let go.

"Bella, we're alone," Edward said, trying to turn to face me. I finally let him and he sat me on the couch. "Its okay, why are you crying?" His hands were on my face, feeling the tears as they fell.

"He looks like him," I gasped out. "Like...him."

His rubbed his face, sitting closer and pulling me to him. I fell into his embrace, forgetting the words he said to me before that were like daggers into my heart. "Its not him," Edward said after a few moments. "Its okay, he's not going to hurt you. I promise I won't leave, okay?" I nodded slowly, wiping my eyes.

I laughed once. "I'm so pathetic, I don't know why you put up with me," I admitted, drying my face on my sleeve.

"Because you're my sister, Bella," he replied, arm over the back of my shoulders. I leaned into him, wondering why I felt disappointed when he said that. Sister. Brother and sister. Why did I feel like I'd been under a different impression?

It took a few moments for me to calm down completely. If there was something else for me to stress over, I would fall into a panic attack. When I could breathe again and I felt somewhat rational, Edward gave a quick apology for what he said before, swearing he would repay me for the words. We had a more formal meeting with the therapist, and he didn't seem even the slightest unsettled by my reaction.

"I'm sorry for what happened back there," I stuttered, fidgeting with the cuffs of my sleeves. "It was just a moment." That happens quite often.

"Don't apologize," Dr. Marcus said, holding up his hands. "I've seen it all before and worse." I shuddered, but didn't believe a single word. What could be worse than me entire life? "So, Bella, would you be okay to talk to me out here? Or do you want to go somewhere private?"

Another shudder ripped through me at the thought of being in a "private" room with him. I clutched Edward's hand tighter and this didn't go unnoticed. "No."

"All right, that's fine," he agreed, crossing his legs in the leather chair he sat in. "May we talk a little, Bella? Are you ready to?" I nodded slowly. "Well, first of all, nothing you tell me will leave this room." He put his hand on his chest. "I won't tell anyone anything you told me without your permission, however, if I think you are at risk of endangering yourself or other people, I will have to notify someone about that." I nodded slowly, looking at floor. "So, can I asked you a few questions just to get to know you?"

"Sure," I squeaked. Edward's hand squeezed mine.

"You lived in Florida previously, didn't you?" I nodded at him. "Who did you live with in Florida?" Dr. Marcus was doing that thing where he clasped his hands in front of him with his elbows on the armrests. Something that seemed to be such a trademark for therapists.

"I...was tossed around from family to family," I mumbled.

"I'm sorry, could you speak louder?" He leaned forward.

Edward cleared his throat. "Bella was switched from family to family because her parents died when she was little," he said smoothly. "She doesn't really like talking..."

"Bella, anything you say is confidential, no one is going to know anything you say. You can tell me anything and I will listen, but I'm not about to pressure you to talk if you don't want to. I just want to get to know you before we get deeper into your mind." He turned to Edward. "Maybe you should leave for a bit, Edward, and she'll feel more comfortable."

"No!" I objected, my eyes widening at the thought of being alone with this man.

"I already know everything," Edward said gravely. "Its all very colourful – your really in for it, Marcus."

Dr. Marcus smiled. "I'm only here to help. Its all I want to do."

He asked a few more questions, prying too far into the past, and I couldn't respond. Not this soon. Its took me too long to trust Edward and I couldn't just open up to this man that resembled the one person that ruined my life in the drop of a hat. I didn't respond to what he asked, only staring and shrugging. At a point I wanted to blurt out that I have been raped almost all my life, that I did drugs and cut, that I have a son somewhere, but I knew that would get me in trouble with the authorities. I didn't want people involved. I refused.

Dr. Marcus settled on asking about my life in a blander sense. What I did on weekends, how school was going, what my hobbies are, what music I listen to. I gave the bleak answers which were all quite similar: Nothing. If word got to Carlisle, I think he would be disappointed for my not trying harder. But what was I going to do? There were so many things I could not say because word could get out about the rapes, and slowly everyone would knew everything. Police would be involved, searches would be conducted, trials would start.

Too much.

"Bella, would you be okay with coming back next week?" Dr. Marcus asked gently.

I looked up, wiping my eye, feeling exhaustion. "Sure. I guess."

He and Edward made an appointment that would fit with Edward's schedule of school before we finally got to leave. I shook Marcus's hand quickly, stepping away after; Edward thanked him as he led me out to the car. I felt horrible.

Memories were cursing through, but I refused to cry over them. I'd cried enough already that I just didn't want to touch on that nerve anymore. Edward stopped with his hand on my door, the other arm around my shoulders.

"You could have tried a little harder," he commented. I nodded sadly, looking down at the ground, but Edward's hand captured my chin and tilted my face up.

He leaned forward and my heart stopped the second his lips pressed to my forehead. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I savoured the feel, that was over too soon for my liking.

"Bella?" I looked up at him, perplexed. "I want to tell you something, okay? Please don't get mad, because I get it. I already get it." He took a deep breath, glancing at the house for a second before opening the door. "Here, get in."

I slid in the seat as he went around to the driver's side. Glancing at the clock I realized we had been away for about two hours, and my stomach was growling. Edward looked at me as soon as we were in the confines of the of the vehicle. Why was he looking at me like that? I immediately started thinking the worst.

"Bella, I..." He looked away for a second. Was he really blushing? Seeing the red flush made my own face heat. "I like you," he finally said in a voice that sounded relieved.

"I like you too, Edward," I said, even more confused now.

"No," he laughed. "Bella, I mean I really like you."

This was a shorty bitch to write. It felt somewhat right to leave out the whole question-and-answer with Marcus, so don't hate! =) Okay, please review so I will update again soon. Please, babies? I need some hardcore love here!

Love, Glitter