"This is followed by laughter because we're in high school, which means we're predictable and almost anything is funny, especially if it's someone else's public humiliation."
All The Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

2. Collision

(Bella's POV)

Walking through the hallways of Forks High school is much the same as always—potentially deadly. Monday is usually the worst, presumably because everyone is in a terrible mood. Usually, that gets taken out on me. The bullying has dulled down a bit over the years but it hasn't stopped completely due to the fact that the never-ending cycle of hell in my life has never stopped either.

Why don't I fight back? Because, when I tried, it got worse. I got slapped in the face by Tanya Denali just for asking her to leave me alone. Apparently that's unacceptable. This occurrence only caused more humiliation on my part, so the laughing got louder and their snide remarks became more frequent. Speaking to a teacher isn't an option. I'm scared to tell them. In a small, gossip-riddled town like mine, teachers aren't your friends. My last choice is telling a family member or a friend and since I don't have anything along those lines, it doesn't really count as a choice, does it? I have my aunt Sue, of course, but we aren't close. We don't really talk much and we are both quite happy just to get on with our lives that way. I know she loves me and she knows I love her, very much. That's all there is to our relationship.

I was so lost in thought about how horrible my life is that I managed not to notice the open locker in front of me and smacked face first into it—effectively making my life even worse.

I almost laughed at that thought.

How could my life get any worse?

Of course, because I'm me, the embarrassment did not end at that precise moment. Someone was standing on the other side of the locker door and it swung towards his face, making impact almost immediately. The sound echoed down the hallway.

"Oh my god! I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't see the..." I trailed off, sounding like a complete moron.

The background laughter only grew in response to my feeble attempt at saying sorry. I swear, I had never been given a more deadly glare than the one he gave me. I cringed away, panicking when I realised I was standing before the infamous Riley Biers.

"Do you even have a fucking brain?" he growled in my face. "I swear to hell, you better stay out of my way before I do something I won't regret," he finished threateningly, slamming his locker shut and storming off, leaving me standing there on the verge of hysteria.

Walking down the stairway at the end of the school day is not a pleasant experience, which is why I always hang around for ten minutes to let the place clear before I even attempt to move anywhere. I'm sure you can relate to the terror of not being able to see the stairs through the sea of people whilst you're trying to get down them. Everyone is grabbing each other, shoving the person in front of them, and shouting insults at anyone who accidentally touches them.

When I did start moving slowly, I thought I heard some students coming out late, so I made for the stairs to get out of their way. As I swung around the corner of the second set, I crashed literally face first into someone's chest. It was extremely painful, considering the fact that he was running up the stairs and I was running down them.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" a vaguely familiar voice asked. "Hell, that hurt."

He was hunched over and gasping for air.

"I'm fine. Are you okay? How many times in one day can that possibly hap—"

Our eyes locked.

We were mere inches apart and he had the loveliest green eyes I had ever seen in my life—not that I spent much time gazing into peoples' eyes. I was reduced to silence, my body stilled by the intensity of the moment. I couldn't force myself to talk, not even to blabber out something stupid like I usually would.

I had just collided with Edward Cullen.

Let me die right here on this stairway. Maybe they'll even put a plaque on the wall with my name on it, the pretence of a school who says it loves all of its students equally. It's funny how people only care about you after you die, and even then it often isn't enough for the rest to give a shit.

As he straightened up, I stepped backwards to distance myself from him.

"I'm fine, too," he said—his tone surprisingly soft—in response to my earlier question. I had forgotten I even asked him if he was okay because the words shot out of my mouth at a hundred miles per hour. He gathered himself quickly and added, "You have lovely eyes."

He shook his head, smiling, before walking up the stairs holding his side.

What just happened?

When I arrived home, aunt Sue wasn't there, but there was a stack of letters sitting on the kitchen counter. One was addressed to me and I knew exactly what it was about before I even opened it. It would be the hospital, reminding me about my monthly check-up. They want to make sure I'm not going crazy or anything. This started when I took too many pills a few years back and they thought I had tried to kill myself.

I didn't, by the way.

They thought it was too coincidental to be an accident. I was younger and no one had ever explained it to me, so I didn't really understand the concept of only taking two paracetamol at a time when I had a sore head.

Miss Isabella Swan,

I am writing to inform you that your monthly check-up at Forks Community Hospital is due this coming Friday at 4.30pm. Doctor Kate Ericson has transferred to Port Angeles to attend a four year long surgeon course, as you should be aware of already, so he will not be your Doctor as of now. Any future appointments will be taken by Doctor Carlisle Cullen. We hope to see you there.

Jenifer Coughlan
Forks Community Hospital