Breaking Point—Chapter 11

This chapter is written from Bella's perspective.

This is the last chapter of Breaking Point.

A/N: The reason that almost all of my stories are 1) one-shots or 2) have really short chapters, is because it's really difficult to write the sort of manic depressive story-lines that I'm into. Drama Club has pretty nice sized chapters just because it's a more laid-back story (one of the reasons why i find it very annoying). But with something like this, I have to try to imagine how Bella is feeling at every moment during this time. (It was the same way with Now or Never…anything with very dense and overwhelming emotions). I'm very young; I've never been in love like her, and I've never met Edward (theoretically, none of us have met Edward and none of us ever will, although I'm sure you don't want to hear that) so I pretty much just have to close my eyes and be like, "Okay, I'm Bella. Now how do I feel?" Then try to translate whatever comes into the pit of my stomach into words. It's really hard. Not to complain or anything, but that is just an explanation for the short chapters.

Please, please, please, please review! This is the last chapter so REEEVVVVIIEEWW!!!

Oh, and in case you missed it, this is the last chapter of this story. I always get a lot of reviews with "update soon" on the last chapters of my stories, so I'm going to try to be really clear with this one. (Still review, though!!)

Oh, and sorry for the short length. (And my utter rambling).

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Bella, or Edward. If anything, they own me.

Nightfall came, slowly, lazily. It came as if it was waiting for us to realize the darkening sky and leave; to go be wherever it was we had to be. But Edward and I didn't move. I laid in his arms, letting the thickness of night wash over me and seal us away.

I could imagine never leaving, never moving from the cool haven of his arms. It was a clear vision. Just remaining here, caught in this tense little bubble with him, with no means of escape. With no desire of escape. The idea was intoxicating.

My mind still buzzed with the complexity of the previous few days, gradually advancing on the present. Edward's breath rustled my hair slightly.

I wasn't sure of anything. I was barely aware of anything.

I've been thinking lately, that it's impossible to say that you're positive about something. Who can ever justify that? There's no way to know. There's no way to keep a promise. It's all fake. Just lies designed to look like truths; to fool you even easier and force you to believe them, until you're in so deep and everything is too hard and too strong and too endless, and you can't escape.

Even when you would trade everything you owned and anything you could borrow on a certain fact, it could still change. Anything can change. Anything.

Anything but this.

I knew that I wasn't going to be able to survive without him.

It would be too painful. I would wear away, the way stone wears away beneath the cyclic tide of the ocean, until nothing made sense and nothing mattered enough. Until nothing mattered enough to keep me here.

I wondered about the woman and the ambulance. Where were they now?

I wondered about Charlie. I could imagine him sitting in front of the TV, trying to use the game to distract him. Was he worried? Of course he was.

But for a reason I didn't know, all of that—Charlie, school, life, people, Jacob, everything—just wasn't this. It wasn't now, it wasn't me. I don't know how to say what I mean exactly, but I know that it wasn't as important anymore. In fact, it didn't seem important at all.

I didn't know who I was, but I knew what I wanted, and what I needed. And I knew that life the way it had been--the way it was--could never matter enough.

Edward pulled me further into his arms. The tips of his fingers traced circles on my wrists, so light that it was like a feather's caress. I opened my eyes to nearly complete darkness. The little light that remained rained down on us from the moon, peeking at us through tree branches, and from the radiance that was Edward's skin.

I look at the moon once, and back at him. And I knew that he something else. He was more than what he thought he was. He was everything.

Edward's lips brushed against my hair, and I closed my eyes again.

I had never felt more alive. Right then, in that moment, as we remained motionless against the floor of the hollow forest, I had never felt so...real. Nothing moved around us, only the air, swirling in strange patterns and strange scents and a thickness that made it hard to breathe. My heartbeat seemed to vibrate the delicate leaves suspended from the branches, seemed to echo through the endless forest.

Edward suddenly shifted, and I followed his body in response. He rocked forward and eased me to my feet. I clung to him, feeling the fibers of his shirt rub against my fingertips, and the heat that friction caused. My fingers burned, but I would not let go of him.

He locked his arms around me as well, as if he was determined to keep me from slipping through the cracks. He lowered his lips to my ear. His motions were so slow, but not slow enough. My brain wasn't caught up yet. My heart buzzed and deflated, and then started up again.

"Let's go home," he whispered.