Hello everyone! I've enjoyed writing this so much I've decided to continue it. I have a good ending I'd like to see played out.


Bella's POV

I cried on the ground for what might have been an hour. Never opening my eyes or releasing the grip on my chest. It took everything I had to keep myself together, and yet the broken thing that I now was still seeped out through tears and moans I couldn't keep in. I let it go, it felt good to empty myself of emotions and return to the numb and painless state I've known for the last 7 months.

Exhausted, I lay silently on the ground, my hair entangled with the dirt and gravel underneath it. I needed to get far away from this place, to get up and move. I thought nothing of what I saw in the house but only of what I had to do now.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and lifted myself off the ground. Edward sat a few feet away, staring straight at me with a cautious and guarded face. Just another hallucination, I told myself, it doesn't change anything. My confidence in that truth wavered as I glanced towards the empty porch, but I banished the idea and reminded myself nonchalantly that 'sometimes I see things' and needed to get home.

I opened my truck, got in and started the engine. The tap, tap, tap on my driver's window startled me and I turned to see Edward motion to roll the window down. The clearness of his tapping conjured up the memory of glass shattering against his shoulder, but my tired state quickly dismissed what these realities implied. I rolled my window down.

"Bella," he exclaimed, "Can we please talk?" I stared silently back at him, brow creasing, uncertain of what to say. "Please." He continued in desperation. "If not now, can I come by after Charlie's asleep?"

I turned my head back to the steering wheel, completely unsure of myself. "I don't know," I confessed and shifted my truck into drive. "I have to go home." I pulled out without another word. I expected to see the illusion disappear, but as I glanced in the rearview mirror, he continued standing there, dejected, until I drove out of sight.

The second my tires hit the paved road, the confused cloud that protected my mind evaporated. What did I just see?! Were they real or did I imagine it? My hallucinations never spoke to me like that before, asking me questions! What if they were real, what does that mean? No, no, they weren't real, nothing has changed.

The internal dialogue followed me home and into the shower. Soon I found myself seated at the kitchen table, my mind racing with the events that just passed. Like any other memory of him the pain pierced me and left me breathless. What if he did show up in my room tonight, I thought, I couldn't handle it.

Suddenly, I was reserved to being out of the house. It was Saturday night after all, so I quickly wrote Charlie a note to my whereabouts and headed to Port Angeles.

I drove in silence to the little recording studio that sat underneath my friend's modest apartment. There, I could rely on finding at least one of my three friends mulling about. To my luck, both Bret, the owner, and his girlfriend Sydney were there when I arrived. Sydney was the first of this group I met and introduced me to the joys of human youth.

It had been two weeks since I had last heard from Jacob. No matter how many times I called, he did not answer. I know he'd been sick after we saw that awful movie with Mike, but it was clear he was avoiding me. Billy reported he was fine now. I even saw him walking shirtless into the forest during an attempt to see him.

I don't know what I did to make him start avoiding me, but the rejection and isolation was enough to send me back into the depression I'd been in over the last few months. Charlie begged Billy to make Jacob come by, but in the end, he started suggesting I see a therapist again. Opposed to this idea, I quickly proclaimed that I had plans with Jessica the next evening to see a movie. Of course, Jessica would never go to a movie with me again, but I didn't tell Charlie that.

Ultimately, I found myself at the theaters alone. To early to go into the auditorium, I waited in line for some popcorn. That's when I met Sydney.

She was friendly, chatty, seemed to like 'my style' and was also alone, for the moment. Her friends had not arrived yet and she had bought tickets for the same movie I was seeing. I'm not sure if she took pity on my or genuinely found me interesting, but I accepted the proposal to sit with them. They provided a good distraction as we waited for the movie to start and did not seem bothered by my disengaged attitude. When the credits rolled they invited me to their car to smoke a joint.

I wouldn't have agreed if the apparition of Edward hadn't appeared. Warning me of the danger of strangers and drugs. Adversely, to hear and see more of him I acted in exact opposition of his guidance and accepted their offer. I only stayed with them long enough for two puffs and an exchange of phone numbers. I'd never been interested in drugs before and didn't particularly enjoy the harshness in my throat from the smoking, but when I sat in my truck, waiting for the effects to fade, I found myself slightly happy.

There was this mild euphoric haze over me, things looked brighter, I could stand listening to music, and best of all I could think about him without falling apart. I watched my memories of him as if I was an outside observer, smiling at the good times and laughing at jokes long gone. I closed my eyes and sat in the theater parking lot for over an hour, watching the movie of Edward and I's time together playout behind my eyelids.

Eventually, I drove home. My nerves catching up to me with the realization of what I had just done. My father was the police chief for God's sake! He would be more than disappointed if he found out I had smoked marijuana, and surly he would find out. It was his job to know these things, wasn't it? I can't say Fork's had any sort of drug problem. There were a few kids at school I might have suspected but the rumors would have circulated if it were true.

To my surprise, all went well when I got home. Charlie had waited up for me, concerned that I was out later than he expected. He looked at me suspiciously, recognizing something was off. I prayed that he had not called Jessica's parents, that would make for a very awkward day at school.

When I announced I met some new friends, his eyebrows rose in disbelief and lips twitched into a hopeful smile. He was happy that I not only got out of the house and socialized but that there appeared to be a new spark of life in my eyes. He said nothing more and I went on my way. I decided I would see these new friends of mine again.

In the months that follow, I became close to Sydney, Bret and their friend Rodney. Close in a way that we could make bad decisions together but not dig into each other's business. They were all older than me, Bret, the oldest being 22. They knew my age, where I lived, and in Sydney's case, meet my dad. I've never spoken a word about his family, my zombie-like state or the numbness in my heart, and they didn't pry when it came up. I got the impression they each carried their own baggage. They were good people and we got along well. They would always offer me whatever they had and did not judge when I turned it down or asked for more, like tonight.

Immediately upon my arrival, I grabbed the liquor bottle and pored myself a large shot. I needed to cleanse my mind of the hallucinations that haunted me.

"Bad day?" Bret chuckled at me from the love seat he and Sydney were curled up on.

"You have no idea." I wiped the escaped liquid from my mouth and chin. Eventually, the nightmare from today drifted out of my mind and into a distant memory.

I drove home the next day with just enough time to make dinner and greet Charlie from work. He was none the wiser and informed me of a call I missed. "Jacob called. He seemed stressed out and wanted you to call him back." He stated as I got up to clean the dishes.

"I'll call him tomorrow," I replied. "I have to finish a homework assignment before bed." Truthfully, I was just exhausted from the late night before.

Lazily I climbed the stairs up to my room, anticipating the standard week to come. To my surprise, as I crawled into bed, I heard the crinkling of paper from beneath my pillow.

I pulled it out and read the familiar handwriting.

Bella,

I'm so sorry for everything that has happened and cannot stand to leave things as we did today. There is so much I would like to talk to you about. I respect if you need some space and time, but please give me a call when you can. If I don't hear from you, then I'll see you on Monday at school.

Love,

Edward

His phone number was written at the bottom as if I'd forgotten it. The letter shocked me and the images I had tried so hard to forget came rushing back. I held myself close and tried to control my breathing. I covered my mouth to muffle the moans of agony that ripped through my chest. I couldn't believe this.

I wanted to run to Charlie and ask if this note was real, if he could see and touch it to, but that would have been ludicrous. The paper was real, I ran my fingers over it and ripped a bit of the corner, held it to my ear and heard it crinkle. I read the words over and over again, trying to assess what I should do.

If they were back, did they want something from me? I thought, Edward doesn't love me. I didn't need to remember his cold, deadpan expression as he told me he didn't want me, to know he wouldn't come back for me. Yet, the memory of his hurtful words in the forest assaulted me. I crushed my bed pillow into my torso, trying to make sense of the situation.

Maybe this has something to do with the pack? I knew now about the Quileute wolves that protected La Push. It was the reason Jacob had been avoiding me, but soon enough the cat was out of the bag. It was a huge relief having someone from that world to talk to, and we picked up our garage hangouts once more. However, responsibility caught up to Jacob and all too soon I was lucky to get the occasional phone call. Jacob would tell me if something was up with the pack. I was confident of that. Maybe that's why he called? Maybe I should call him back now. At the thought of calling, I remembered the note.

Edward wanted me to call him.

The idea of hearing his velvet soft voice on the other end of the receiver caused my heart to race. Could he be that close within my reach, that I could simply pick up the phone and have him here now? Since the moment he left the forest, I've yearned to hear his voice again. I've ridden motorcycles, approached strangers and pursued dangerous activities just for the thrill of seeing his apparitions. Everything in me wanted to call him right now. But, my mind held me back.

What would I say? What would he say? His words from the forest reverberated in my head, 'You're not good for me, Bella.' Fear and anxiety rippled through my cells. I don't want to hear those words again. My hands felt cold and clammy as I imagined calling him just to hear rejection again.

Worse, what if I have actually gone insane and imagined this all up? Another imagine of me on the phone flashed through my mind, but this time I chatted away while a confused Charlie held up a cut phone line. He'd skip the therapist and send me straight to a mental ward. I can't be crazy though, the feel of his cold, marble shoulder in the kitchen was so real, and the tapping of his knuckles was so clear. Again, I stared at the unmistakable crumpled note.

The emotions and uncertainty immobilized me, and I laid my head back down. Squeezing my eyes tight, I prayed for a release from my thoughts knowing full well that sleep, and the nightmares that accompany it, would not be my saving grace.

P.S. I love reviews.