A/N – WOW this is fucking scary! OK, this is my first attempt at fan fiction. Hope you enjoy it half as much as I have enjoyed other fictions on this site. Feel free to ask any questions….R&R and all that. Um, well I guess that's all. Maybe someone will read it! LOL
Everything hurts.
-Michelangelo
CHAPTET 1 - Awaken
I let my eyes drift open and instinctively they squinted away from the harsh light coming in my window. It wasn't abnormally sunny, but a bright grey light that hurt to look at for too long, although that may have more to do with my unused eyes than the light. It took longer than it should for my eyes to focus on my ceiling. I just laid there for a moment, rethinking my epiphany, making sure this is truly what I wanted to do.
Slowly, I sat up, my comforter falling to a puddle at my waist. I looked over at the clock.
2:12pm. Huh.
I had no idea what day it was, hell I didn't even know what month it was.
I looked around my room. Everything looked the same; except there was now a small side table with a novel and some magazines on it which sat beside the rocking chair. I wasn't really prepared for the pain that flooded me upon looking at the chair. Immediately I was bombarded with images of Edward sitting there, with his head lying back and his eyes closed, my lullaby quietly ringing from his lips.
So damn peaceful.
My mind started to drift to the first time I saw him rocking in it, watching me, the morning after he took me to our meadow-
STOP IT, BELLA!
I tried to shake the thoughts from my head. It wasn't completely possible, but if I tried hard enough to focus on something else, I found I could numb myself to the pain. This was my plan of survival. On my own time I could wallow and remember, and let the pain consume me, but during the day I would attempt to live.
I kicked the blanket off of my legs, stood, and with a surprising amount of pain, and an even more surprising amount of strength on my part, I walked out of my bedroom and left the comfort of Edward for the first time.
I walked past the bathroom door, headed for the stairs, contemplating a shower before heading downstairs. Yes, I was procrastinating. No, I don't really care. I figured it would be better to put the shower off, mostly because it would serve as an excellent excuse to get back upstairs in the event that I couldn't handle what waited for me downstairs. No one could deny my need for a shower.
My legs shook when they had to bear my full weight individually on the stairs; I gripped the railing in case they failed me. If I would've taken the time to think about it, I would've understood my leg muscles were severely weakened by lack of use, but at that moment it just angered me. Here I was, determined to be strong, and it was all I could do to keep myself from falling over. Perfect.
As I stepped off the last step, I noticed the quiet. I was so sure someone would be here, but what the hell do I know about the goings on around here nowadays?
The living room was the same, other than a magazine here or there and the fact that it was slightly messier than it used to be. The kitchen on the other hand was completely different.
There was a stack of newspapers and mail on the table alongside several to-go boxes. The counter was littered with chip bags, an open loaf of bread, a box of donuts, an unopened bag of individually wrapped Reese's, another of mini Kit-Kat's and a half empty bulk-size box of Chicken flavored Ramen noodles. The trash needed to be taken out and I could see a lot of microwaveable food boxes, as well as more to-go containers. Clearly no one bothered cooking around here.
I don't recall making the decision to walk over to the sink but that's where I ended up. Both sides of the sink were full of dirty dishes, one side apparently left for soaking days ago. The bubbles were gone, and there was a greasy film around the edge of the freezing water.
I noticed a small plastic basket on the edge of the windowsill, full of medicine bottles, all labeled to Isabella Swan. I snatched the basket, and dumped it onto the counter. There were seven different bottles, all with different dates and directions. I knew I took some medicine, but I was stunned to see so much. Different words jumped of the labels at me: for Severe Depression, Sleep aid, Anxiety, Eating Disorder, Comatose, Psychosis, Tranquilizers.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I knew I took a pill or two, but to see the amount of pills they had for me just boggled my mind. I knew what it was like to be on the inside looking out, but for the first time I truly wondered what it was like to be on the outside looking in. What did everyone see when they looked at me? Did they really think I was this bad? Was I really this bad?
I decided to clean, but not for the obvious reasons. I was alone, and I honestly didn't trust myself to not go running back to Edward without something keeping me busy. I opted to wait longer on the shower because 1. It would be pointless to shower then return to cleaning this mess and 2. I still wanted to have it as a reason to leave should the need to bail arrive.
About an hour into my cleaning, the front door opened and closed. I froze. I vaguely wondered why I didn't hear a car, but didn't focus on the fact. I turned my head to the kitchen doorway. I had no idea who it was, what the hell I would say, or even worse what they would say. The funny thing was, I didn't really care. I knew they couldn't hurt me, I can always retreat back to 'Edward reality' if the going got too tough, even if that was the easy way out. I didn't want to rely on that fact for my new found strength but I knew it was there, just in case.
People would have questions, and there was bound to be ridicule and judgment against me, but they wouldn't get their answers. It wasn't any of their business. I had no desire to share any information about my time with Edward, and even if I did, it wasn't like I could tell them the truth anyways.
A man walked into the kitchen holding our cordless phone to his ear. He was huge, at least six and a half feet tall, dark skinned with muscle everywhere. His hair was nearly black and cut short, he was wearing a pair of cut off sweat pants, a t-shirt, and no shoes. His face was familiar. He completely froze when he saw me. The phone slipped out of his hand, landing with a sharp thud on the floor, the back and battery falling out.
"Bella?"
"Jacob?" I asked. I was certain it was him from his voice but his appearance was so different, I didn't see how it was possible. He was staring at me like he was looking at a ghost, which I found rather amusing. Seriously, how long was I out for?
"Holy shit, Bella!" Then his arms were around me, effectively cutting off my air supply.
"Can't breathe," I choked out.
"Shit, sorry." Jacob released me. He stared at me, grinning like a child at Christmas. "What are you doing here?"
"Last I checked, I lived here, but granted it has been a month or two since I checked." I gave a false smile at my humor. I was sure he would know what I was talking about though, judging from the weather alone, I knew it had to be at least two months.
"Bella," he spoke carefully, like he was afraid, "It's March 2nd. It's been six months."
Oh. Wow.
"Oh. I didn't realize." I quickly contemplated this information, but it turns out I didn't have a lot to contemplate. Sure I didn't realize it had been that long, but I also didn't really care; two months or six months, all the same. The only thing I could really think about was how sore my throat was from speaking, and how odd my voice sounded. It was still my voice, but kind of raspy.
"Yeah, it's been tough," he shook his head, dispelling his thoughts, "That's not important now. How do you feel? Are you thirsty, hungry maybe? I can get you whatever you want. You should sit down -
"Jake, I'm okay, really. I can get myself something in a minute. Why are you here?" It made no sense to me that Jacob had just walked into my house without a knock, much less an answer. Especially considering nobody was home except me and I don't really count.
"I'm your sitter until Renee gets back…..." He trailed off, seeing the look on my face presumably.
"I'm sorry, but you said you're my what? Why in the hell do I need a sitter?"
"We don't leave you alone here. It's just our rule," he shrugged, like this was obvious, "I was outside this whole time speaking to a friend of mine about…… well, stuff. We have a baby monitor, I had it with me. I assumed when the humming stopped you had just drifted off to sleep."
I had so many questions from his one statement it was astounding. I noticed when he talked about speaking with his friend about 'stuff' anger and annoyance flashed across his face, so I was curious about that as well. "Ok, let's try it this way. Who, exactly is 'we'? Who were you talking to and what about? Why do you carry a baby monitor? Where are my parents? And what is that about humming?"
Jake's eyebrows furrowed with thought. Before he had a chance to answer my questions, I heard the sound of tires pulling onto the gravel of our driveway. I looked up at Jake, eyebrows raised. "Look Bella, it's been hell on everyone around here. I promise you will get your answers. But try to take it easy on them," he jerked his head towards the front of the house, "The last thing they expect to come home to is this. Okay?"
I nodded my head at him. I felt the guilt at the thought of my parent's pain. It was an unfortunate consequence of my actions, but one that I couldn't seem to help at the time. I knew their pain derived from my pain and from worry over my health, so I can only hope things would get better for them now that I have decided mask it. They never need to know the dead feeling that resides in me.
"Jake?" Charlie's familiar voice rang through the house.
Jake turned and walked back through the kitchen doorway. From my position I could see some of Jacob but nothing of Charlie.
"Hey Charlie," I could hear the underlying tension in his tone as he greeted my dad, "Renee."
Renee? Oh, well then.
"Hi Jake, how was everything here? No problems I'm sure." It was the first time I had ever heard my mother's voice sound like a mother, she sounded so tired.
"No, no problem, but-"
"That's good, sweetie. Thanks again for helping out. You're young and I know you have better things to do, but Charlie and I both wanted to be at this meeting with the doctors. We really appreciate everything you have been doing for us, and for Bella."
If I hadn't known that it was Renee in the next room, I wouldn't have believed it. She sounded on the verge of tears, and I hated myself a little bit more for putting those tears there to begin with.
"I've told you, I don't mind, and I've got nothing else to do anyways. Bella is my friend; I will always be there for her. Something happened while you were gone though. I think you both should maybe go in the living room and sit down."
"Now really ain't a good time, Jake. Things didn't go well today. The doctor said we are out of options. They want to put Bella back into the hospital, permanently. As her parents, we have to decide what we think is best for Bella. Renee really wants to go lay down for a while, and I need to go check how things are at the station before we start figuring everything out." Charlie told Jake, dismissing Jake's idea of a talk.
'back in to the hospital, permanently' Charlie's words played over in my head.
If it weren't for the fact that I was already severely broken, the guilt I felt towards my parents would've bought me to my knees. If there had been any chance that I would return to my 'Edward reality', Charlie had just killed it. What had I done to them? What had they been forced to watch, helplessly, while I laid there, selfishly cutting myself off from everyone but Edward?
I had been disgusted with my show of weakness in my memories, but that was nothing in comparison to the loathing I felt for myself when I grasped how weak I had been when he left me.
"No, you don't understand! Bella's-
"It's okay Jake, I've got it," I cut Jacob off as I walked in. If Jake looked like he had seen a ghost, they looked like they were seeing God himself. Renee had her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face, and she was visibly shaking. Charlie's mouth hung open, his eyes were shining with tears that had yet to spill over. He didn't even look like he was breathing. "Hi Mom, Dad. I think maybe we should have that sit down now." I gave them the best smile I could summon. I could see so much pain on them both; Blood shot and puffy eyes, Charlie had lost weight while Renee had gained some. They both looked so exhausted, they both looked so old.
"Bella!" Renee screamed and jumped at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. My reflexes were already slow, and with Renee's sudden added weight, I stumbled backwards. Jake grabbed the back of my shoulders, steadying me.
"Renee, give her some breathing room. Don't overdo it," Jake chastised Renee, but before he could get his sentence out she was backing off, wiping her eyes. "I think we should all sit down." Jake nodded toward living room. Renee grabbed Charlie's frozen form and tugged him to the couch. I knew there would be so many questions, a lot of them I knew I wouldn't answer, but I would give them as much of me as I could. At this point all I wanted to do was get past the awkwardness and move on with whatever life I was going to have. I didn't want to deal with my pain.
I stood in the door way of the room, but I couldn't make myself walk in, I couldn't make myself own up to what I had done to them. We stood frozen just looking at each other, it could've been one minute or one hour, and then finally I felt someone nudging me from behind.
"Go on, Bells. They won't bite you," Jake spoke in a whisper, so that my parents wouldn't hear him, so they wouldn't think that I was afraid of them. I wasn't afraid of them, I knew they loved me, and above all else were happy that I was standing here, but I was a little apprehensive of what would happen now. I nodded and walked into the room. I took the chair across from the couch and then looked up at Jake. I know we weren't super close before, but I felt comfortable with him. I didn't feel like walking on eggshells, and I didn't worry about what he may ask me, it just felt nice.
"I think I should go on home. I'll call Sam and get him to come pick me up," Jake said as he turned, picking up a light jacket. I wondered how the thin material could be of any use, but let that thought go when I realized he intended to leave me alone with my parents.
"Please stay," I glanced between him and my parents, making sure they weren't too upset with my request, "It's just that…., hell I don't know, but I'd rather you stay."
Charlie and Renee just nodded at him, letting him know it was okay. He laid his jacket back down, shrugged, and then sat on the floor to my left.
"So," I didn't draw the word out, but rather clipped it, trying to tell them they need to get on with it. Apparently they got the point.
"How do you feel?" Renee asked first. Concern was written in every detail of hers and Charlie's face.
"Kind of tired and pretty weak. It's almost like how you feel if you've been sick for a week; once you're better your body is just drained. That's how I feel, drained. Oh, and nervous. I feel really nervous." I ended my small rant with a fake half laugh. It was my meager attempt to lighten the mood.
They obviously weren't expecting my speech. I assume they were expecting short one word answers, I can't really blame them. But I was resolved to be as honest as possible on the questions I could answer to make up for the questions I would plead the fifth on.
"Well, that's not really surprising, Bella. You have been sick, and for far longer than a week. It's going to take time for your body to replenish itself." Charlie nodded his silent agreement to my mother's words.
I didn't think that I had been sick, at least not in the way they think I was, but I wasn't going to argue it. I wouldn't tell them what the last six months in my head had been like, so I would just let them believe whatever they chose.
"How are you here? What I mean is, you're awake! Well of course you've been awake before, but you weren't really here. UUGGGHH! God, what I'm asking is how did you wake – no, just what do you remember? Or do you know how you came back to us?" Renee stuttered out. This was something I expected. Everyone would be scared of offending me, thinking one wrong word would send me back. They didn't know they didn't hold that kind of power over me. There was only one person on this earth that could send me running back into my Edward dreams, and God only knew where he was. But this was the question, or questions I couldn't answer, I would have to lie.
"I don't know. I don't remember anything really. There are bits and pieces of an almost dream like memory. Like hearing you or Dad talking, or knowing I had to take a bite of this food. But it's all pretty vague."
At least it wasn't a whole lie; the parts of reality I remember were vague. "Then I remember thinking about how there were people around that loved me, and that I was hurting them, that I needed to get up. I was pretty harsh on myself actually," this was also partially true, "and then I just woke up. I sat up on the bed, and looked around for a bit. I came down stairs, and found Jake cleaning the kitchen."
I didn't want to get Jake in trouble for being outside for over an hour while I cleaned the kitchen, but I still needed to explain the clean kitchen, so I tweaked the truth a little more.
Jake looked up at me then, I met his eyes, hoping he could see what I was doing with my story. He gave me a small nod of understanding that an outside observer would take as a nod of agreement.
"Oh, that makes sense I guess," Renee sounded pretty disappointed with my answer, "You shouldn't have been hard on yourself though, it's not good for you. You can't blame yourself for what happened."
Fuck THAT! Her words infuriated me. I don't know why, or if it was irrational or not, but it infuriated me that she would refuse me of the blame I deserved. No one made me stay the way I was but me, because I was too scared to face reality. I was weak and selfish, and I was not about to hear excuses for my actions.
"Then who the hell am I suppose to blame Mom? Whose fault is it? It is my fault; no one did that to me but me. It was selfish of me, I was hurting you, ALL of you, and I was too wrapped up in me to give a damn! I'm so unbelievably sorry for what I have put you all through. All I can honestly say is that at the time I truly didn't realize I was hurting you, I didn't realize six months had passed, and I am disgusted with myself for causing any of you an ounce of pain. But that doesn't make it any less of my fault. Don't pass this as anything else, and just know that I won't let it happen again. I won't be weak again; I will not put you through any more pain. Please just know that I am so, so damn sorry."
Tears were streaming down my face, and dripping onto my sweat pants. I didn't take my eyes off of my parents. I just sat there, begging them with everything in me to forgive me, begging them not to hurt anymore. Jacob squeezed my knee, showing me he was on my side. I don't know if he felt the way my mother did, or if he truly believed me, but it didn't matter. He was telling me he was on my side, right or wrong.
"Oh no, no Bella" Renee started, but Charlie found his voice.
"I'll tell you whose fault it is. It's that Goddamn Cullen boy's fault! He-"
I couldn't allow this. As angry as I was at Edward, I would not have other people hate him. I have no idea what it was about the thought of someone hating Edward that bothered me, but I just couldn't accept it, even though at times I wanted to hate him myself.
"No. What did he do Charlie? Why is it his fault? Because he moved away? He's 17, Dad, it's not like he had an option! How is the fact that I couldn't function without him his fault?"
"He hasn't called, he hasn't written, he truly just walked away. Maybe if he kept in contact it wouldn't have been as bad." Charlie argued back.
Pain shot through me, cutting me deeper than I had ever imagined. I had fought for six longs months to keep the thoughts of Edward walking away at bay, and here Charlie was, unknowingly throwing it all in my face like it was nothing. I pushed it all away. My pain was private, and was only for me. I would deal with this, and worry about me later.
"Charlie, don't please," Renee begged. I knew she was scared that bringing it all up would just end in me back in my bed. I knew it wouldn't, so I kept at it.
"That's bullshit, Dad! I don't know how I looked to all of you on the outside, but if I wasn't conscious of you talking to me IN PERSON, why in the hell do you think I would've been conscious of a damn phone call?" I knew if at any point in time someone would've told me Edward had written a letter or was on the phone I would've sprang back into reality with a vengeance, but Charlie didn't know it.
"Bella, he left you in the woods," Charlie tried again, but I could hear the defeat in his voice. He knew very little of mine and Edward's relationship, and he couldn't justifiably blame a teenager for moving away with his parents. I ignored the next round of pain, focusing instead on my anger.
"No he didn't. We talked in the clearing just inside the woods. When he had to go, I just sat there. He tried to get me to come into the house, but I wouldn't listen. He made me promise not to do anything stupid, but, well, I blew that. After he was gone I wandered into the woods. I was so lost; I just couldn't remember where I was supposed to be going. I laid down eventually, thinking I didn't even care anymore. I don't remember anything else clearly until a couple of hours ago." My voice was void of all emotion as I relayed what facts and half truths I could to my father. I still don't know why I had to defend Edward from their judgment; I assume it was like the sibling complex. You could be mean to your siblings but no one else could. I could be mad at him, but I wouldn't allow anyone else to insult or hate him.
I noticed Jacob had visibly tensed at my defense of Edward, but he never removed his hand from my knee.
"Of course he's not to blame," Renee interrupted, sensing the end of the argument, while Charlie just sat there watching me, his tears finally falling, "It's just been so hard, Bella. Your father just needed an outlet, and Edward is the easiest one. I know you think you are to blame, and although I disagree with you, I won't fight you on it. I know you are sorry, we all are. The important thing is that things can get better now. We have a lot to talk about, we need to figure out what you want to do about school, or at least what your options are, and of course we have to get you to the doctor as soon as possible. I'll call him and see if we can get an appointment for tomorrow."
"What doctor? Why do I need to go see a doctor?" I looked back and forth between both my parents.
"Bells, you've been sick, sweetie. You've lost a lot of weight, your muscles are weak, not to mention your eyes and throat have to be sore. You need to have a physical just to make sure everything is as well as can be expected, and see what type of diet and or exercise would be best to get your body well." I hated the way Renee was speaking to me like I was a small child, but I understood her position, and just let it go.
"Oh, well yeah I guess that makes sense. It's just that I saw all this medication earlier and I thought you meant a therapist or something. What was with all of that anyways? I remember taking a few pills at some point, but there are a lot of bottles in there."
"You will have to see the therapist, Bella. Now that you're awake we have to take the necessary steps to insure you stay on the right track. That's actually where your father and I were today. You have to understand, we have tried tons of different medications and techniques to try and get you to come back to us, but we were running out of options. Dr. Butler, your therapist, gave us one last medication to try. He told us he would let us try it for thirty days, and if we didn't see any type of improvement, we would have to discuss more permanent treatment options. That was almost seven weeks ago. He truly let it go as long as he was able, but he had to intervene. It was obvious you were not going to get any better here, and we had to try something. So we met today, to discuss having to admit you into a mental health facility. He gave us the options here in Washington, and then some options around Jacksonville. Charlie and I were going to decide tonight where we felt it would be best for you to go."
I sat there, letting my mother's words sink in. They were going to admit me into a mental hospital? Charlie's words from earlier sank in deeper. A horrifying realization hit me.
They think I'm unstable, they don't think I'm sane.
More disturbing than their beliefs, were my own. I couldn't say for certain that I was sane.
They could never understand everything that had happened in my life over the last year. But did that really matter? I checked out for six months. I understood why I chose to stay in my 'Edward reality', but was that the sane decision? I knew I was selfish, I was weak. Depressed certainly, but I didn't think I wasn't sane.
Obviously people who are insane don't think they are insane.
I couldn't help but wonder if I were still in my land of Edward how I would've reacted to that change, but finally accepted that it was all a moot point and moved on.
I took a moment to consider the pros and cons of seeing this Dr. Butler she talked about. The pros being that it would shut them all up, because none of them could ever understand. By refusing to see him they would all nag at me, and assume I would never get better. The cons were that it would all lead to nowhere. Even if I did need help, the doctor couldn't help me, because I could never tell him the truth. It would be a waste of my time and energy and even if I could be honest, I would never get any better. I was resolved to live whatever life I could manage for my friends and family, so that I didn't cause them any more unnecessary pain. No doctor could fix the rest of me because I was not broken, my soul is simply gone, but I can never explain that.
"Fine, I'll see the doctor but I am not going to be admitted into any hospital, and I will no longer take any medication. Those are my conditions," I said, a tone of finality in my voice.
"Bella, you have to take the medication, at least for a while," Jake spoke up for the first time, "Those types of pills, you can't just stop taking. You have to wean yourself off of them slowly."
"Damn it. Fine, but I start weaning tomorrow. I will not live attached to that medication for the rest of my life." I huffed out.
"We will discuss it with Dr. Butler tomorrow." Renee told me, trying to calm me. I nodded my head at her then rolled my eyes where only Jake could see. He snickered at me. I just wanted to be treated normally. I knew that considering everything that had happened, it was going to take a long time for people to see me that way, but I knew it was going to be aggravating to be placated all the time. It was going to be a long and awkward few weeks until my parents were a little more comfortable being around me. I knew that we were going to argue about their behavior towards me, but with any luck it wouldn't take them long to see that I was here to stay. Time will prove that to them. At least Jake seemed to treat me like he always had.
That was comforting.