Sorry, again, for such a long delay in updating. I've been very busy with classes (yada yada yada) and everything, so sorry again. I know I say this every time, but I hope to at least update one of my stories every couple of weeks. so yay! that's better than one every 3 months. xD

this chapter was inspired by The Raven (epic poem) by Edgar Allen Poe -he's my idol! xD

another from Bella's pov, hopefully the next will be from Eddy's or something. let me know what you think.

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."

-Edgar Allan Poe

Nevermore

Someone once told me that there are times in your life when you think you may have lost yourself. When something happens that changes you forever, and you can't remember how you once were. They told me that everyone feels this way sometimes, but that the feeling will always, always, eventually go away.

I've lost myself.

My mind is endlessly wandering away from me, and I find that I lose minutes and hours of my life. I have no consciousness in these moments - there is simply nothing; a blank, black, empty hole in my memory that I will never recover.

It is in these moments of sweet release that I finally escape the ever-present pain - the pain that pins my consciousness to the bed, so that even in sleep I cannot find respite.

My body is missing. Most of it is numb to me - not painless, just gone; simply and utterly. My legs don't exist, nor my hands or my arms or my face. The only thing I can feel is my chest - alive with flames. Sometimes I can still feel the heat of the bike pressing down on me, and I scramble blinding at the bandages, desperate to stop the burning. In my lucid moments, I worry about the missing parts of my body; wonder if they are there at all, and what the numbness means.

Days pass, maybe even weeks, for I have no way to count the time except by the distribution of pain medication which never seems to help. Doctors come and go as they please, though my most frequent visitor is Carlisle - always with a smile. They tell me things; long lists of huge words that mean nothing to me. I nod my head numbly, not comprehending anything, and wait for Edward to lean in close and explain. Nurses hover continuously around my room, popping up whenever I finally manage to fall asleep, ready to whisk me away to another X-ray or to give me another round of worthless pills.

The tests are unending and painful. I have three rounds of X-rays, a CAT-scan or two, and numerous others that take hours and hours and usually end up giving the doctors more questions, rather than answers. I complain at first, but after a while, I simply obey. I let them cart me from room to room, machine to machine, let them poke and prod me because I know that I am powerless in this state - immobilized and rendered speechless by my dead-weight body.

One day they tell me that this is the end - no more tests after this; just one more. A nurse comes and slowly unwraps the soiled bandages from my hands and arms. I am told to look away and close my eyes and tell her if I feel anything. I wait, and wait, and wait. Nothing. I figure it's a joke.

"Hurry up and poke me," I say.

Edward and the nurse exchange a glance and I turn around. As I watch, the nurse presses the point of a needle into my palm, my wrist, the end of my index finger. I watch it, I look at my hand, and I know I should feel it, but I don't. The needle moves upwards, pressing into my forearm, the crease in my elbow, up higher and then…

"Ow!"

The nurse writes a note on her clipboard, shaking her head sadly. Edward carefully shifts me into a more comfortable position, looking morose. It's official: I have no feeling in my hands or lower arms.

I look away as she re-bandages my hands and arms. I don't want to see what I can't feel.

Another few days pass, and then finally Carlisle returns to my bedside. He looks grave as he takes a seat. Without looking at me, he reads off a list from his clipboard; this time is it full of words I understand.

Damaged nerves in hands, arms, and chest area. Broken spine - paralyzation from the waist down. Severely damaged face - lip, cheek, chin, and part of the nose missing. Five teeth knocked out. Head trauma.

The list goes on and on but I tune it out. I don't want to know the degree of damage done to my jaw; I don't want to know that I will never walk again. I don't want to know that I am like Humpty-Dumpty - they will try to fix me, but I know I will never be the way I was.

I fade into that twilight zone between sleep and consciousness. I can feel my wandering mind pulling me under the blanket of peace that only the utter consciousness can bring. Before I can disappear completely, I feel Edward's tentative hand on my shoulder, shaking me ever-so-slightly.

"Bella, you need to hear this."

I blink and refocus my eyes on Carlisle's saddened face. It takes a lot of concentration, but I force my brain to pay attention and comprehend. That's when I get the worst news. Another test - a surgery, to be exact. Reconstructive surgery, to fix my gaping hole of a face.

"You don't have to go through with it, Bella, if you don't want to," Edward adds when his father is finished.

I nod. "Okay…" But what do I say? Yes, I want someone to go in and try to put my face back together with someone else's bone and flesh? No, I want to remain looking like this; a half-decomposing carcass?

Carlisle leans forward, his eyes earnest. "It will be tough surgery, Bella. It may not even work. We won't know how much will need to be done until we get in there." I cringe at that, and he pauses for a moment, choosing his next words more carefully. "I don't want to force your hand or try to make your decision for you, Bella, but if we don't do this surgery…well, there would be many complications."

"Complications?" I hear myself as if from outside my body, like a separate being, yelling at Carlisle. "How could my life be more complicated? I can hardly move, I can barely talk or see, I've got no feeling in my arms, my body is covered in gauze, and my fucking legs don't work!"

Silence follows my outburst, and Carlisle blinks in surprise, looking at Edward.

I hear Edward's voice trying to placate me. "We understand, Bella, trust me, but this could make it so much worse-"

"What could be worse than not being able walk? Huh? What? What could possible be worse than being stuck in a bed all day, not being able to move?" I stop myself from continuing by biting my lip. I've already said too much, I've hurt them both with my outburst. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, letting my taut muscles calm.

"Complications like what?" I ask.

Carlisle hesitates for a moment, then tells me in a soft voice. "Slurred or severely impaired speech, respiratory problems, eating and drinking difficulties, eye-sight deficiency…"

"Fine," I cut in. I don't want to hear any more. "Okay, I'll do it."

Edward leans closer to me. "Bella, you don't have to-"

"No, I want it." I turn to Carlisle. "What do I have to do?"

"All you have to do is sleep. We'll sedate you, and then the rest is us."

"Okay."

The surgery happens the next day, or, at least, they sedate me the next day. Moments after the needle slides in my skin, I'm out, my vision fading to a blur and then going black. The next thing I know, I'm opening my eyes to the familiar hospital room. Edward hovers, worried, and rings for the nurse immediately.

The pain is immense. The right side of my face feels as if it's on fire - the flames burning beneath the skin. I can't move my lips to speak, or turn my head without pain shooting up into my forehead and down my neck. When I cry, the tears are hot and sticky and even Edward's cool hands on my face bring no relief.

The nurse gives me heavy pain medication that leaves me in a semi-conscious state. The fire still rages beneath my skin, but I am unable to tell anyone. My body becomes jell-o and I lay with drooping eyelids, trying to ignore the agony.

I run a 103 degree fever for five days. The doctors worry that my face is infected, that they may have to go back in and cleanse the area, which is potentially dangerous. I want to tell them it's not an infection, that it's a fire. I want to beg, plead, scream at them that my face is burning and they have to put it out or I'll die. My eyes water from the heat of my own body and Edward thinks I'm crying. More pain meds work their imprisoning magic and I lay beneath the bonfire for two more days, until my fever finally breaks.

Carlisle checks my new face when the nurses change the bandages. He smiles as he places new gauze over the tight, hot flesh and winks at me.

The surgery is a success so far. Everything is healing nicely. The doctors and nurses tell me that I'm lucky, that my face looks good so far.

As for me, I wonder if the pain will ever leave. I wonder if I will ever be able to see clearly through both eyes, or eat solid food. I wonder if I will ever feel anything except the fire.

And as I lay there, wrapped in gauze and new layers of flesh, the lines of a poem slip into my wandering mind. It is a poem I have only ever read once, but still, somehow the words come back to me in this single lucid moment.

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

…Merely this and nothing more.

Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'"

I don't know if the poem seems relevant to any one else, but it seemed relevant to me. xD anyways, I just love this poem, so I wanted some of it in there. sorry if I'm a dork.

let me know what you liked or disliked. REVIEW! pretty please!

thanks for everything so far.

-isabellthelooser