Chapter 2. Powerless

TRIGGER WARNING for suicide attempt!

.

.

.

Bella's POV

.

She was utterly exhausted. That was the most apt description she had of her state of mind. Rationally Bella knew she was giving up but at that point she just didn't care, she only needed it to stop. She didn't have energy to keep this façade up. Truthfully it had ended a long time ago, but she was straining herself at this point. Even always-oblivious-Mike was starting to notice her disconnection to reality. Angela, ever the perceptive one, had been studying her with quiet concern for weeks now and while she never asked her directly, her eyes said enough. Bella was through with deflection and awkward subject manoeuvring. She felt explosive, like a ticking bomb just waiting to go off.
Bella glanced down at the materials she had gathered for the night and wondered if she might be overdoing it a bit. A gleaming kitchen knife lay innocently on the sofa table, next to a bottle of vodka and a pill bottle.

"It's at least enough to make it permanent," Bella muttered to herself as she plopped herself down on the couch. Her eyes wandered around the room, taking in her living room for the last time. Truthfully there was not much personality in the décor, she hadn't cared enough to add any real flavour; mostly furniture and one-half dead plant in the corner. However, there were a few memorabilia scattered around the room in honour of her late father. Her eyes rested on one picture for a long moment. Charlie Swan was beaming in full fishing gear attire, holding out a fresh catch; obviously proud of his achievement. Seven-year-old Bella Swan seemed completely unimpressed with the whole thing and wore a deep scowl, eyeing the fish with disgust. A faint smile touched Bella's lips, always amused with this particular picture. Charlie had been too, since the picture rested upon the mantlepiece above the fireplace. A place of honour, he would exclaim with a smirk.

"I'm so sorry dad," Bella choked out. For the first time ever, she almost felt relieved that her father wasn't alive anymore, at least he didn't have to deal with the aftermath of her own departure. She exhaled shakily and grabbed the vodka bottle on the table, opened it and took a big swig.

"I don't know if you're watching me now old man, with that typical fatherly disapproving look but… I just can't do this anymore," she began with a sad chuckle. "Don't worry, I still remember your lectures about how we are never powerless, which I agree applies to most situations. However, this is different…" she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince at this point, the imaginary ghost of her father or herself.

"It's just…too much. I feel like I'm losing grasp on reality and every moment I feel this suffocating shadow following me around. I never know if I am here or not, you know?" another swig of the bottle. "Since we're on the subject on losing grasp on reality, I'd like to point out that I'm currently speaking to the ghost of my dead father," Bella snorted with a shake of her head.

"I'm completely off my rockers," She scrunched up her nose in distaste and looked at the empty page she had ripped out from one of her notebooks. Then she lay down the bottle and grabbed the pen that rested beside it.

"This is traditionally what people do, isn't it?" she asked no one. "Everyone except René maybe, but she was never the traditional sort," a bitter smile touched her lips.

"Right, let's keep this short," she adopted a thoughtful expression, the pen hovering over the paper for almost two whole minutes before she hastily scribbled down her last words. She chose the words carefully, mostly a string of apologies and thank you's. Angela was the only one who got four sentences.

To be fair there weren't many people she had to write. Her mother and father were both gone, and she had been an only child. Billy Black and his son sometimes invited her for dinner, but they weren't exactly close. Without Charlie being the buffer, Billy and Bella almost always ended up arguing. Bella knew the old man only checked up on her as an obligation to her father, not out of genuine concern for her well-being. Jacob Black was a whole different matter. He was nice enough, but his puppy love towards Bella made her feel uncomfortable and she did her best to avoid him if possible. The only people who really mattered in Bella's life, were her friends. They weren't extremely close, but she was still fond of them. She regarded Mike and Eric as her adopted idiot brothers, despite their insistence that they were in fact men and not related to her. The latter part was always added because of their completely unrequited crush on her. Still they were funny at times and their silly antics often made Bella's day. Lauren was more of an annoying associate than a friend but still somehow belonged in their group. Her jealous biting comments mostly served as an amusement, which was why Bella tolerated her at best. Jessica was a little too self-absorbed and honestly a bit over the top at times, but she had a kind heart and was surprisingly fiercely loyal. Angela was the best of them, in Bella's opinion. The girl had been by her side through almost everything and her quiet understanding nature worked as a calming balm when everything got overwhelming. Angela almost always seemed to understand Bella, even before she understood herself. She was the only reason Bella felt guilty about her decision. She knew the sensitive girl would be broken up about her death, but Bella knew she would eventually get over it. If not get over it, then hopefully forgive her with time. It was better this way, at least Angela wouldn't have to worry so much anymore.

"This should be enough," Bella declared and carefully folded the letter and positioned it in the middle of the sofa table. "This goes out to you Pops," she lifted the bottle and saluted before taking another sip. She wracked her brain for anything she might have forgotten. She knew was stalling. Bella cleared her throat and shook her head slightly. "Well… no time like the present!" With shaky hands, she opened the pill bottle and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Here we go," she disposed the entire bottle into her mouth and reached for the vodka to help her swallow. Before the bottle could touch her lips, an odd sensation overtook her body. A sharp pain in her lower abdomen startled her enough to spit the pills out and they went flying in all directions, scattering around the room. Another invisible blow made it hard to breathe and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"Not now!" she cried out, desperately reaching for the knife. She fumbled for a few moments, her body starting to feel heavier and her movements uncoordinated. Finally, she grasped the handle and made a victorious sound as she crudely sliced up her inner forearm, hoping she would hit a vein. Worrying amount of blood immediately started trickling down and she hurriedly went to copy the move with her other arm. Before the blade could pierce the unblemished skin, her vision clouded over, making her drop the knife. It made a clinging sound as it hit the hardwood floor.

"Fuck," Bella murmured, doing her best to fight the incoming sensation. She knew however that it was a fruitless endeavour. This was one of those situations where she was powerless. She absently registered someone calling her name in the distance, although she wasn't completely sure if it was real or not. It was hard to think clearly. Her body swayed dangerously, and she topped forwards. The fall seemed to take forever, before Bella finally hit the ground harshly and blacked out

.

.

.

Rosalie's POV

.

Rosalie paced back and forth, getting increasingly more worried by the minute.

"Tell me her plan again," Emmett requested. Edward sighed and repeated the same thing he had been continuously asked of since that the afternoon. It was approaching dinner time and they still hadn't conjured a plan.

"She will be home alone. She has already purchased alcohol and some pills from a questionable source. She also has a big kitchen knife,"

"Seems a bit excessive doesn't it?" Emmett asked no one in particular. "I mean, the pills and alcohol should do the trick. Why a knife as well?"

"To make sure," Edward intoned sadly.

"Well-"

"Stop it!" Rosalie practically exploded. "Stop talking about her chosen method! That's not what we need to concentrate on!" Emmett, to his credit, looked apologetic. "We need to find a way to intercept her plan without revealing we actually got our intel from a mind reading Vampire!"

"She's your mate," Alice began hesitantly, almost flinching when Rosalie's wild eyes met hers.

"I'm aware yes," the blonde bit out darkly.

"I mean we don't have to hide the fact that we got our intel from a mind reading vampire," the pixie explained.

"There are rules," Rosalie protested, staring at Alice as if she was an idiot. "We cannot reveal ourselves to humans, or have you forgotten the Volturi?"

"She exempts from that rule," Jasper came to his wife's defence. "She's your mate, so she'll eventually find out we are vampires anyway,"

"No she won't," Rosalie argued right away. Her stance on protecting her mate's humanity had not changed. She just needed to convince Bella to live her human life. Privately she wanted nothing more than to get to know the enigmatic girl who declared Rosalie as exceptionally cute, but it was a selfish reason. Maybe in time she would change her mind, but she needed time to let the idea sink in.

"You're still denying the bond?" Alice asked incredulously. "Rose she's about to take her own life-"

"I know that!" the blonde growled. "Just because she's currently unhappy as a human, doesn't mean that won't change. I won't condemn her to our lifestyle if I can help it,"

"She's your mate! Which means she's literally made for being a Vampire, you stubborn fool!" Alice shot back in frustration. The rest of the Cullen family eyed the sisters in apprehension. Alice rarely, if ever, raised her tone against Rosalie. Rosalie herself looked as if she were about to attack the smaller vampire.

"What if we contact some family members?" Esme, ever the pacifier, suggested into the tense silence. "Ask someone to go over and check on her?"

"There are none left," Carlisle answered with a sigh. Everyone's attention shifted to the doctor. "Charlie Swan died two years ago,"

"Her mother?" Esme wondered with horror in her eyes.

"Died a year before Charlie,"

"Fuck," Emmett swore. Rosalie's eyes closed at the information, although she had expected as much. Despite doing her best to avoid learning anything about her mate, Forks was a small town and there were constant rumours going around. She had discovered that Charlie Swan was dead but didn't know about Bella's mother.

"She has no one?" Esme eyes filled with tears that would never shed. "That poor girl,"

"Rosalie Lilian Hale!" she turned towards her adoptive daughter. "She needs a family," Esme said sternly.

"I'm not turning her," Rosalie protested stubbornly.

"We are running out of time," Edward informed them. "She planned it at 8'o clock," he glanced at his wristwatch. "We have literally ten minutes," Rosalie's eyes widened in panic. They had been talking in circles ever since they got home from school and they still had no plan.

"Go!" Alice pointed at the door. Rosalie hesitated for a moment but quickly jumped into action under the expectant and slightly exasperated expressions from her family. She nearly ripped the front door from its hinges in her haste to exit the house. As soon as she stepped outside, she started running towards Forks. She only slowed down as soon as she entered the down and started jogging from there.

"Okay," Rosalie stared nervously at the Swan residence. The vampire walked up to the front porch and stopped in front of the door. She closed her eyes and listened to any movement inside the house. The sound of the familiar heartbeat almost brought her to tears. She wasn't too late. Rosalie mustered up all her courage and knocked and waited. Rosalie frowned when it seemed as if Bella wasn't about to answer the door.

"Guess I got to do this the hard way then," she murmured under her breath and let out a relieved breath when she realised the front door was unlocked. She hesitantly opened the door and took a step inside.

"Bella?" she called out softly. There was no answer, but Rosalie could hear the increased heartbeat. Her face grew ashen when she realised Bella's heart rate was growing at an alarming rate. Deciding to ditch the previous hesitation, Rosalie moved further into the house. "Bella?" she called again. The only answer was a loud crash. The vampire flashed into the living room and stopped dead in her tracks. The sound of the heartbeat was gone, as was Bella. There was a splatter of blood on the couch, broken bottle on the ground; liquid staining the carpet, a dozen of pills scattered around the small area but no body. Rosalie's heart would have stopped it were still working. The scent of her mate still lingered in the air.

"Bella?" her cry was more desperate now and she checked every corner and room in the house but there was no evidence of Bella. It was as if she had disappeared out of thin air.
The vampire collapsed on the sofa, staring at the stain of fresh blood. A piece of folded paper on the sofa table caught her attention and she hesitantly picked it up and read. It was a suicide note. A pang of raw sorrow hit the blonde, so intense that she felt rooted on the spot.

"Rose," Rosalie's head snapped up and noticed Alice standing in front of her, eyes filled with tears. "She's gone,"

"I know," Rosalie shook her head in bewilderment. "I don't understand, I could hear her heartbeat but then it just stopped. But there is no body or anything,"

"I can't see her in my visions. Her future is blank," Alice clarified. Rosalie's horrorstricken eyes met her sister's.

"I…no," Rosalie whispered. "She can't be…I couldn't tell her…I….she," the vampire stumbled to her feet. "I never got the chance to…" Rosalie shook her head unbelievingly. "But where is her…"

"Rose," Alice murmured gently, taking a step forward but deciding against touching the distraught blonde. "I'm so sorry,"

"Fuck!" a hot flare of anger erupted in Rosalie and she picked up the table and flung it against the wall. Pieces of wood went flying in all direction and while the sound was oddly satisfying in Rosalie's ears, it did nothing to calm her. A broken picture frame lay innocently in front of the fireplace. The face of an unimpressed Bella, taken when she was a child, seemed to mock Rosalie and she let out a broken sob.

"I'm so sorry Bella," she whispered.

.

.

.

Bella's POV

.

When she woke, it was with a groan and throbbing sensation in her arm. She did her best to overcome the disorienting feeling as she struggled to open her eyes. After several unsuccessful attempts, she finally managed but soon wished she hadn't.
It was cold and dark, and the air was so thick that it was hard to breathe. A row of rusty steel bars came into view and it took a second for her to realize those were prison bars. Where was she now?

Bella blinked and with great caution, looked around. Behind her was a mouldy stone wall that looked as if it had never been cleaned; with several cracks and scratches in them. She peered at it and almost flinched backwards when she noticed those scratches were made by fingernails. Gulping, she looked down and saw that she was sat on a muddy floor; with various spots and pools of something she did not want to know what was in them. For the first time she realised she was not the wall to her right were five women propped against the wall, with slumping shoulders and head bowed. They were covered in filth and dirt and only wore shapeless brown dresses that resembled potato sacks if anything. Their hair was greasy and dirty and looked like they had not been washed in years. Turning her head to the left she saw a similar sight, four women sat on the opposite wall in the same position. So far no one had noticed her presence, in fact Bella wasn't sure if they were alive or not. What now?

It was then when she noticed the smell. It was if a brick had hit her nose by the overwhelming scent; a mixture of dirt, blood, body sweat, body fluids and something rotten that she could not properly place. It was without a doubt the worst smell she had even encountered in her life. Scrunching up her nose in distaste, she tried to breathe through her mouth and focus on the situation at hand.
Bella wanted to cry at this new predicament. Where was she?

.

.

.

To be continued...


Where the hell is Bella?