Chapter 36

March 2

Bella,

I really really hope you get this. Soon. I wish I could talk to you…well, I wish I could see you, but I'm sort of on lockdown right now. It's a long story.

But first off, I want to say I'm sorry again. Times a million. I know it's not worth much, but I'll say it every hour of every day for the rest of my life if it'll prove to you that I mean it. Cuz I really do mean it.

I been thinking A LOT about my stupid, terrible mistake that night. And about the other stuff you said, too. You know, the stuff about the clothes and the jealousy and me trying to fit in with Cole and everyone. You were right…like you usually are. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did, and I'm really sorry about that, too.

I been talking to Dr. Anderson about everything. He was the one who came up with the idea to write you a letter, but just as an exercise for me. He doesn't want me to talk to you right now for some stupid reason, but I don't care.

I have to try, even if you probably won't ever go back to our spot at the fence. If this doesn't work, I'll try something different when I get the chance. And actually, this isn't even the first letter I wrote you. It's more like the fourth. I didn't finish the first two because I was dumb and wrote them in pen. I kept messing up and crossing things out, and you could barely even read it after a while. I finally figured out I should use a pencil, haha.

I thought about mailing it, but I wanted you to get the letter right away, so I begged Cee to take it over to your house. She said she wanted to talk to your mom and see how you were doing, anyway. But it turned out to be a bad idea. I guess your mom really hates me now, and the Cullens, too. I could tell Cee was trying to be nice when she told me what happened, but it sounded like your mom yelled a lot. She said she'd call the police if any of us came near you again, and then she tore up my letter…

-o-o-o-o-o-

The limp pages of Edward's second, more successful attempt fall onto my bed as I gasp in disbelief at the words I just read.

Earlier, after pushing my way out from behind the bush, I'd hurried into the house as fast as I could while trying not to make too much noise. My wet clothes had been yanked off and dropped on the floor in my room. I didn't even bother to scrounge up a set of dry ones. Teeth chattering, I'd wrapped my cold body in the bed's comforter and anxiously ripped into the envelope that had been on the bottom of the pile. It wasn't addressed to anyone, but it just had to be from Edward. I was sure even before I saw the familiar messy scrawl on the pages.

In the few minutes between discovering the letters and devouring his words like a girl starving, my head had buzzed with too much excitement to wonder what I might find. Maybe if I'd taken some time to calm down, I wouldn't be so upset now about finding out the things Mama did…and what she didn't do.

For instance, she never told me anything about Cynthia coming over. And she certainly hadn't mentioned a letter from Edward. It takes a few seconds for me move from shock to anger, but once there, I'm absolutely livid. I don't care what her reason was for tearing up his words; it doesn't matter. Even if she was trying to act like a parent, maybe trying to shield me from potential hurt or whatever, I think I've earned the right to decide for myself what I can handle. The letter was mine. She should've respected that.

She should've respected me.

I have the urge to storm into her room and start yelling, but burning curiosity wins out over anger. I'll save my fight with her for later. Right now, there's something more important to do.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I pick up the damp letter from my bedsheets and begin reading where I left off.

-o-o-o-o-o-

…Cee warned me something like that might happen before she went to see your mom, but I guess I didn't believe her. I even promised that I wouldn't freak out over it, and I tried real hard not to, but then everything started going fuzzy and dark. I thought I was going lose it again, but Cee shook me and said that if I wrote another letter, she would find a way to get it to you. That snapped me out of it, which was a really good thing. I been in here over a week, and they might let me go home soon. But if they have to knock me out again, I'm sure it'll be even longer.

Oh, wait. You probably don't know what I'm talking about. This is the long story part. I'll try to keep it short as I can, though. In my first letter, I didn't say anything about it, but then I remembered that not telling you stuff was one of the reasons everything got so messed up between us. So I'll try not to do it again. I just hope you don't hear this and want to stay away from me even more.

Anyway, what happened is that after you left that morning, I sort of…lost control. I tried to run after you, and Carlisle had to hold me back. I don't remember fighting him, but he ended up with some bruises. I still feel terrible about that, even though he says he understands.

I do remember him putting me in the bathroom and holding the door shut. I went crazy trying to get out so I could chase after you. I did everything I could think of to break the door down, and after a while, Carlisle let me out because he was worried I was hurting myself. He got me on the floor and kept me there until Emmett showed up. He'd called him while I was in the bathroom.

I didn't fight for much longer than that because I was tired and still feeling sick from, you know…the party. I fell asleep when they put me in my bedroom, but when I woke up, I freaked out again. Rose came over, and she tried to talk to me while Emmett and Carlisle kept me from running away. She made me understand that if I really cared about you, I shouldn't go after you. I should listen to what you said, and I should give you time. So I tried to do that.

But it was like the last time we stayed away from each other. No, it was way worse. Back then, I had to care a little bit because I was worried about Merr and my mom being hurt. This time, I just stopped caring at all. I stayed in bed and waited and that was it. I didn't want to do anything else. I wasn't even hungry.

After a while, Carlisle and Cee said I'd have to go to the hospital if I didn't eat. I still didn't care, so they took me in, but not to the regular hospital. I'm at Dr. Anderson's building, in the psych unit. I guess it was only a matter of time, huh?

-o-o-o-o-o-

I swallow back a sob full of so many different emotions. Edward was admitted to the Daniels Psychiatric Center? I can hardly believe it. I knew it would devastate him when I left—his pain couldn't be any less than my own—but I never imagined he'd end up in the hospital because of it.

Oh, Edward.

Eyes closing, I lower my head into my hand. The noose of guilt tightens around my chest even as I try to convince myself that I'm not to blame for his breakdown.

I also try to remember that it's not my responsibility to be there for him whenever he's going through tough times…even if my heart feels differently. The urge to run to him now is so strong that it's like a physical pain. I can't believe we were under the same roof for at least one of my therapy sessions this past month. We'd been so close to one another, and I never knew it.

Is he still there?

Maybe the answer is in one of the other letters. I want to tear them open right away and skim through to find out, but I force myself to be patient. His words mean too much to rush them. It's not like I can visit him in the middle of the night, anyway.

-o-o-o-o-o-

I pretty much slept for the first two days while I was hooked up to those bags of water and food for your veins. Then Dr. Anderson came to see me and talked for a while. He told me about the program I'd be in and how we'd have sessions together every other day until I was okay enough to go home.

I didn't take it too well at first—the program, that is. But they're good at making you miserable unless you participate. I guess they've had a lot of practice over the years with other patients. :^/ There's about a dozen of us here right now. Most are in high school, but some are younger. We have a bunch of different activities every day, like group sessions and family workshops and individual therapy. There's even study period with tutors who help us with schoolwork. They keep us busy, probably so we don't have time to get in trouble or think too much.

But we do get a little free time between dinner and lights out. That's when visiting hours are. Carlisle's been here every day since I came. Cee and Rose take turns bringing Merr, and Jasper and Emmett showed up a couple times. It's really weird, though, because we spend about ten minutes talking and the rest of the time watching Merr play with her toys without saying much.

Oh, by the way, she misses you a lot. Everyone does. And I miss you so much I can't stand it.

But…I have to, right? What other choice do I have?

You know, it's funny. Even when things were terrible at home, I never thought about killing myself. Yeah, I learned about it being a sin, but other than that, the idea never came up in my head. But here, they talk about suicide all the time because so many of the others have either already tried or were close to it. And every once in a while, I'll start to think, huh, I could've avoided a lot of hurt if I'd done that years ago. Is this one of those irony things you were trying to explain to me? Like, I didn't start thinking about it until they started watching me for it?

I never would, though. I might not be sure anymore if God's real or not, but I won't take the chance if my mom could be up in Heaven waiting for me.

And then there's my reason here on Earth…you.

Yeah, I know I'm not supposed to think like this. Like you're my most important reason to keep going. They tell me it's not good to need you so much. But I can't help it! I can't just turn it off like it's no big deal. How do you make yourself just stop feeling what you feel?

I also think a lot about what I could've done different to keep it all from going so wrong, which is another thing they don't want me to do. But there's stuff I never told you that I wish I did before I screwed everything up. I keep wondering if that would've changed anything.

Like, I found out from books and then at Hickory that the people at church have a different way of dating and getting married and all. It's really old-fashioned. Guys and girls hang out together at church functions but can't go on dates by themselves unless they're pretty much engaged. Usually, the first real date will be dinner at one family's house, and it's a big deal. Dating couples almost always end up married. And I'm sure you remember that divorce isn't allowed.

So, even though I saw that how they dated wasn't normal, it's been in my head for as long as I can remember. That's probably why I started thinking of us being something serious after that first time we kissed in Carlisle's basement.

Remember that night? I think about it a lot. I miss kissing you. And holding your hand. And seeing your smiles. They always make me feel happy.

Anyway…to me, we were a forever couple…like, as good as engaged. I figured we'd get married one day, buy a place of our own, have kids and pets and stuff. You were…are…IT for me, no matter what. And for some crazy reason, I thought you somehow knew all this and felt the same way.

Or maybe you did feel the same way, except I crossed the no-matter-what line that night. They been making me go to these relationship classes where they talk a lot about respectful boundaries. I even had to tell everyone what I did to you, and then we all talked about it. It was really tough to get through, but by the end, it made me understand even more how bad it was.

So I can see now why you ran away. It even sort of makes sense why you might not want to come back. But I can't give up hope that you will, because that's all I got. No matter how much they try to get me to care about other things, I still love you the most.

I want to write more, but it's almost visiting time. Cee's going to my old house tonight to do some cleaning before they try to sell it, and that's when she'll put this letter in our spot. I'm hoping so hard that you get it. It'd be amazing if you could call sometime during visiting hours or maybe even…stop by? Okay, I know that probably won't happen, but I can dream, right?

And I do, all the time. I dream about you.

I'll write again soon.

Love forever,

Edward

-o-o-o-o-o-

My fingers clench inward, and the letter is crushed to my heart before better judgment catches up. Gasping in horror at my mindless action, I run over to my dresser and carefully flatten the pages on its surface. It's a relief to see that, other than wrinkles and a small tear on one edge, no major damage was done.

Slowly, almost reverently, I set a heavy old book on top of the paper to keep it from warping while drying. I think to grab some PJs out of a drawer and absently pull them on as I wander back to my bed.

My face is wet with tears—as it has for most of the night—and at this point I don't even bother to brush them away. There are still two envelopes to go, and I can't imagine them being any easier to take than the first. With unsteady hands, I pick up the next one and lift its flap.

-o-o-o-o-o-

March 10

Bella,

Guess what?

Freedom!

I'm going home in two days!

I'm so excited I can barely sit still to write this!

I got a list of stuff I want to do when I get home, like sleep in 'til noon on my own sheets and watch TV whenever I want and eat junk food wearing PJs. Heck, I might even juggle some knives. Okay, just kidding about the knives (it's not like I can juggle anyway), but I'm so sick of being watched all the time like I'm going to go off myself with the first sharp thing I can find. Seriously, they're really strict about that stuff here. We even have to eat with plastic sporks so no one stabs themselves in the neck or whatever. But I guess there are some kids here who really might do that if they had the chance.

Speaking of strict, the reason why I'm just now sending a letter after so long is that they caught me writing to you after lights out and took it away. I wasn't allowed to have pens or paper again until now. That sucked. It probably didn't help that I yelled at them about it.

Staying here hasn't been all bad, though. Since a lot of us in the program have really messed up backgrounds, there are classes on what normal life is like. Well, normal's not exactly right…more like, life that's better than what most of us are used to. You know, where violence or crime or drugs aren't answers, and where you don't have to accept feeling angry or depressed or hopeless every single day.

But at the same time, it's been good to meet other people who've had it rough. I always felt like it was me and you against the world. It's good to find out there are other people who have gone through the same sort of stuff. Okay, not good like it's good they had to deal with that crap, but good that they can understand where I'm coming from. You know what I mean?

There's a girl here named Emily. She's from the Pasomo Passomakw Passamaquoddy (- she had to help me spell it, haha!) tribe that lives in Maine. Her parents are part of the tribal council and are really big into their heritage. Ever since she was little, they talked about how she needs to speak the language and learn all the legends and marry someone in the tribe. But a lot of the guys are related her in some way, and she doesn't want to stay on the reservation, anyway. She wants to go to college in a big city like LA or New York and maybe major in something having to do with movies or plays or whatever.

Most of the other kids in her school think she's selling out, and her parents are mad. On top of that, she's kind of a quiet and shy person. All the pressure and stress got to her, and one day, she took a bunch of her mom's pills. That's what landed her in here.

I feel bad for her, especially because I get what it's like to be raised different than most everyone else. When I tell her about some of what the church thinks and does, she tells me about the legends and rituals her parents still believe in. A lot of it is about a man-god-spirit person called Glooskap who would watch over their people and teach them important things. The legends say he left their land a while ago and promised to return one day.

Reminds me of Jesus a little. I think it's interesting how different groups of people and religions can have stories that are so alike. I was talking to Emily about it and saying that maybe it's because when it comes down to it, we're all humans, and even though we can be so different, we're still a lot alike. I dunno, what do you think?

There's one story she told me that I really like—one about a girl named Blue Flower. A young hunter from the tribe wanted to marry her, and she promised to wait for him while he went out on the winter hunt. An enemy war party came soon after the hunters left and destroyed the village and took all the young girls to marry their own warriors. But Blue Flower refused, even when they threatened to burn her alive.

In the end, the men who'd been hunting came home and rescued the girls. The happiest couple was the young hunter and Blue Flower, who stayed loyal even though they wanted to kill her.

Sometimes, when I'm trying to fall asleep after lights out, I imagine that I'm the young hunter away on a hunt and you're waiting for me like Blue Flower. That's what I wish for, anyway…that you're missing me and you don't want to be with anyone else. But then other times, I feel more like Blue Flower and I'm waiting for you to come back to me. Except I'm not a girl in my imagination, lol.

Emily's told me a bunch of other legends, like ones about the Thunderbirds who make thunder with their wings and a giant sea serpent called Apotamkin who drags children into the water and eats them. Cool, huh? ;)

Since I'm leaving soon, she's gonna email me more of the tribe's stories. I wish we could read them together. I wish it would be like before when me and you would read stories together in Carlisle's study before going to sleep. Okay, mostly it was you reading to me because I was either too drugged up on painkillers or trying not to cry my eyes out over my mom…

Oh, huh. Yeeeah. That memory just killed my good mood. I'm gonna go now and maybe take a walk through the halls before visiting hours start. I'll try to think about how happy I'll be when I get out of here. And maybe I'll think some more about the young hunter and how happy he was when he got back with Blue Flower.

I love you.

Edward

-o-o-o-o-o-

Freedom. Sporks. Life Classes. Emily. Legends. Blue Flower. Emily. Funerals.

Emily.

There are no tears this time as I look up from the page, and I'm ashamed to admit I only felt a twinge of grief when he mentioned Esme.

No, instead, my thoughts are focused on some exotically beautiful, raven-haired girl with caramel skin and dark, almond eyes. I see her sharing mysteriously enticing stories and having deep discussions with Edward—her voice a breathy murmur, his eyes wide with interest, their heads bent close together in intimate secrecy.

My face scrunches up into a scowl. I wonder if Edward ever mentioned me to his newest BFF Emily. Did he tell her about our long history together? Does she know what we mean to each other? Is she aware that she doesn't have any sort of chance with Edward? That he's mine?

Except…

I guess…technically…he's not.

Damn.

Eyes closing, I groan in both irritation and frustration. Edward and I aren't together anymore. Actually, are we even still friends? We haven't spoken in over a month—not since I walked out the door on him. It's true that Mama's threat has been part of the reason I haven't tried to get in touch with him or someone else from the family, but I can't lay all the blame on her. Being resourceful has always been a necessity in my life. If I really wanted to break the rules without her knowing, it wouldn't be that hard.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I lean back against the wall and give the issue some serious thought.

What might happen if Edward and I try to fix our relationship?

Worst case scenario: he could screw up again. He could hurt me, physically and/or emotionally, and it could be worse than before. I've never had broken bones or experienced anywhere near the bodily pain Edward has, but I'm all-too-familiar with sadness of the soul, with sorrow.

How would my heart handle being crushed by him a second time? Would it break me for good?

I should probably be used to disappointment in my life by now, I suppose. It might seem like I've dealt with a lot of neglect and betrayal from my mama over the years—and I have—but the thing is, I've never expected anything else from her. At first, I thought her behavior was normal, so I didn't question it. And even after learning some parents are loving and attentive, I just accepted that she would never be like that. Maybe she's trying to be a little better now, but if this phase doesn't last, I probably won't care much.

I gave up on her long ago.

Edward, however, is another story. Opening myself to him again would be like handing over a dagger and hoping he doesn't use it on me as I lean in for a kiss.

I can't deny that the temptation to take the risk is overwhelming, though. I want to give our friendship another chance. I want to trust him.

The question is: can I?

Should I?

My better judgment, my sense of self-preservation, says "probably not."

But then, I haven't ever been able to trust anyone, not really. Is it right to expect more from an almost-fifteen-year-old with a horrible history than people more than twice his age? Than my own mama?

I wouldn't call myself a brave person. I learned early on it works best for me to keep quiet and out of sight. Still, I don't shy away from doing what needs to be done. Maybe that's a kind of bravery? I don't know about that.

What I do know is that, despite his terrible mistake, I never stopped loving Edward. Such a thing isn't even possible. So I either need to accept the fact that I'm the one not giving him another chance and then get over my jealousy, or I need to take some sort of action, let him know that there's still hope for us.

Hope.

That tingly feeling of anticipation that fizzed to life as I sat beside the fence now begins to bubble through my veins.

Maybe…what if…?

A plan takes shape in the back of my head, but before I can fully acknowledge it, there's one last thing I need to do.

-o-o-o-o-o-

March 21

Bella,

A whole week. I made it. I wanted to send you a letter as soon as I got home, but Rose thought it would be better if I waited and got settled before writing. She said patience is something I don't have much of. I asked her what was the fastest way I could get it, haha.

When I first came home from the Center, it felt like I'd been gone forever, even though it was only three weeks. I was actually surprised to see that nothing much had changed in the outside world. I sort of expected it to be different somehow.

Maybe that's because I think I'm different. Not a whole lot, but enough that I can tell. I don't feel as much like I'm always one step away from losing it while trying to act normal on the outside. My head's…quieter?...if that makes any sense. I'm still scared and worried and sad a lot, but it's not as bad as before. I can usually work through it, and if not, I'm getting better about talking to someone. And luckily, there's plenty of people I can talk to.

I need to remember to thank everyone in the family more. They really do feel like my actual family now, which is a little sad sometimes when I think about Mom, but mostly really great. I can talk to different people depending on how I'm doing. Cee always cheers me up and makes me laugh. She can be a little too touchy-feely (don't tell her I said that!), but then again, sometimes that's exactly what works to make me feel better. Rose is the one I can count on to tell me the cold, hard truth, even if I don't want to hear it. And I don't have to tell you how Emmett's the action man, lol. The second I bring up a problem, he's coming up with 12 ways to solve it! It's a good thing Jasper's so chill. Him and Rose really are the yins to Cee and Emmett's yangs!

And then there's Carlisle. He's sort of like all of them at once, but also really steady and understanding. I can't believe how much I hated him at first! I was so dumb—about that and a bunch of other things. Remember when I wanted to live in the streets rather than stay with him? Now I can't imagine him not being in my life. He's like…an actual dad for me. You think he'd freak out if I called him that? I wouldn't want him to think I was trying to take the place of his little girl who didn't make it. :(

Anyway, my point is that I trust him to take care of me. I was nervous about going back to school right away, but he let me stay home last week. Even better, he took me with him to work and let me go out to job sites. I even got to learn how to draw landscape designs on his computer! It was a lot of fun. I almost wanted to ask Cee if I could do homeschooling again and maybe spend some time during the day at the business, but I can see how busy spring is for them. And Cee's taking care of Merr, too. Rose helps out whenever she can. Soon she'll have her own baby, though.

Today was my first day back to Hickory, and it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Cole had stopped by the house the first week I was at the Center, and Carlisle told him that I was having some trouble adjusting to all the changes in my life. He didn't say anything about what I did to you or that I was in a psych hospital. When I first heard what he told Cole, I said I deserved for everyone to know the truth about how terrible I was to you. But he thought that was a bad idea, and the rest of the family agreed. They said only bad things could come out of telling other people…and some of the bad might be really bad.

So basically, I just repeated what Carlisle told Cole to everyone who asked me questions. I mostly avoided Cole and his gang, though I did hang out with Scott during lunch. He wasn't with the others at the party—not that I blame them for what happened. I could've said no to the drinks they handed out, and it's not their fault I had to deal with so much crap from my dad. That's one of the things they told us at the Center. Take responsibility for your actions. And then learn from them.

I'm trying to learn, Bella. I really am. That's why, even though the thing I want most right now is to run out the door and try to remember which buses will get me to your house, I'm not gonna to chase after you like that. Yeah, I want to be with you any way you'll let me, even if it's only as friends, because it feels like there's a part of me missing now that I don't see you anymore. But I know you shouldn't give me another chance because you feel guilty or just don't want me to be sad. It has to be because you want to. Because you CHOOSE to.

So I have to respect that. I'll probably write another letter or two since they're not as in-your-face as emails, but if it doesn't look like you've found them after a while, I'll try emailing you. I gotta admit, at this point, sending an email scares me because it'll be more certain that you see it. At least with letters, I can still hold onto hope that they haven't been read and then set on fire or something.

Here's to waiting and hoping…

Yours forever,

Edward

p.s. – I love you.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Yesterday.

Edward wrote this letter yesterday.

He's home now, he's thinking of me, and there wasn't a single mention of her.

Ha, guess she's not so important after all.

And maybe I overreacted...just a little bit.

But then again, maybe my slightly irrational jealousy wasn't such a bad thing. It did turn the idea of Edward moving on into a real, concrete possibility in my head, and the resulting sick feeling in my heart was strong enough to knock me off the fence I'd been mindlessly straddling—the figurative fence, of course. That painful ache made it clear that I don't want to let him go. It told me that I'd regret not giving him another chance.

Edward says he won't pressure me anymore. He says he'll wait forever.

But I don't need forever to decide.

I've made my choice.