Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: If you like this story, let me know. I'm not really getting a lot of feedback, so I'm wondering if I'm wasting my time on this. If you want more, review!

CHAPTER THREE

SHATTER

Over the next two weeks, Sam didn't talk about what happened. I didn't talk to him, either. I remembered most of what I had said, and that was enough to twist my stomach. I was so stupid. I had actually thought I would feel better after talking to Sam. All I did was tell him what he didn't want to hear- that I love him.

Thank God it was Saturday. I couldn't deal with school today. Not that I went much this week, but still, it's nice knowing I can stay home and not feel guilty about it. Although, El has been bugging me about school less and less. She started saying that maybe I shouldn't be spending so much time with Adam. What she meant was that maybe I shouldn't be spending so much time getting high. I ignored her- filthy hypocrite. She was the one who got me started in the first place. And I couldn't stop now. It was just too good.

Like most days, I stayed in bed until about one in the afternoon. What was the point in getting up? When I finally did roll out of bed, I grabbed whatever clothes I could find and walked to Adam's. We didn't do much talking- it was mostly just forgetting. Today didn't start out any different than usual.

We spent the first part of the afternoon smoking, and then just relaxing, mellowing out. Whatever we were taking didn't amp us up; it was the kind of feel-good high. Everything slows down around you and you just feel so at peace. Unfortunately, it's also the kind of high that doesn't last. After only a few hours I could feel my brain whir back to life. That was bad. I didn't want to have to think. I had been thinking, been hurting, for too long. The past weeks were some of the…well not the best, but not the most miserable of my life.

"Adam, can I have some more?" I asked him, slurring the words slightly.

He turned his shaggy head and smirked at me. "You know, baby, I've been thinking…what are you gonna do to earn it?"

"What the hell do you mean?" I snapped at him. He usually just gave it to me "'cuz I was cute".

Adam's buzz must have been wearing off, too, because he snapped back. "You know what I mean, bitch. Everyone has to pay."

Oh crap. I didn't have any money. If I had money, why would I be in this shit hole?

"I don't have money. I need it, Adam."

I tried to hide the plea in my voice. It was a wasted attempt- he saw how desperate I was.

"I didn't say you had to pay me with money, doll," he drawled at me. His greedy eyes raked over my body, so that it was only too clear what he meant.

My immediate reaction was to kick his ass from here to Honolulu. But if I did that, then where would I get the drugs? And even I couldn't kill him…

I was coming down from my high a little more each minute. My heartbeats came faster, my palms started to sweat. My body began to tingle; like my brain, it was coming out of its stupor. I needed to get lost, fast, before the nausea set in. I was too far gone now. My body needed it, craved the release.

"Whatever," I croaked out. I was scared shitless, but I tried to stay calm. It doesn't matter, I told myself. I held onto those words, desperate to make it true. Through the haze, I could see his grin stretch wide over his white teeth. They were so white that they looked purple. That was strange.

Adam strutted over to where I sat, sprawled on the threadbare carpeting. His wife beater and jeans were meant to look cool, but I found it disgusting. If I had been thinking, I would have closed my eyes.

Forceful hands grabbed my shoulders and pressed me to the floor. He fell lazily on top of me, breathing hard already. His motions were blurred, like a movie on fast forward. I thought that if I could stay under the sea in my head, this might not be so bad.

Adam's fingers moved from my shoulders down my bare arms and back again.

"You're burning up," he muttered, only half aware of what he said.

I ignored him. He would think that it was just a part of the high. The fingers on my arms found their way to the hem of my top, gripping it. The shirt was roughly pulled over my head, and he pressed his already naked torso to mine.

I shivered, uncomfortable against his sticky body. It doesn't matter, I repeated in my head.

Adam licked along my stomach, moaning something to himself. I didn't even listen. He ran his hands greedily across my body, tugging my shorts down. The scene was on fast forward again, everything fuzzy. It felt so fast to me. He was sweaty and breathing all over me, and I just lay there. He grappled with my underwear, tugging it roughly down. My legs were glued together- I couldn't move them if I tried. I whimpered slightly. This was a very bad idea. I had changed my mind.

"I don't think so, bitch," he growled at me. Something hard was pressing against my stomach, and I tried to look away. Stubby fingers grabbed my thighs violently, inching them apart. I couldn't think right. Adam's fingernails dug into my skin, and he shifted himself above me.

I started to squirm in earnest now, trying to get away. I was stronger than he was, by a million times, but I couldn't get my body to move. I was stuck, and unluckily the drugs were leaving my brain faster than my body. I knew what was happening, but my muscles refused to act.

He jabbed roughly into me, thrusting and thrashing. All I could see through my bleary eyes was his dark brown skin covering mine. Each push was rough, rocking through my body. I didn't respond. Everything was dead inside of me. I had nothing left.

It doesn't matter.

With Sam, it had been different. When he held me, I felt safe and loved. This wasn't the same. Sam had filled me with his love, pouring it into me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. Sam and I had made love, but this was just fucking. Just straight up fucking.

When Adam was done, I clumsily pulled on my clothes, wincing with each movement. Adam's tanned body moved in the corner of the room, and put something in my hand. I spread it carefully on the table, pressed my face close. Put one finger over a nostril, inhaled deeply with the other. And then I didn't care anymore. I looked up, grinning lazily.

It doesn't matter, my head sang. It was right. It didn't matter.

I came home sometime the next morning. What happened that afternoon was a haze, and I was glad for it. I didn't want to remember.

"Leah?" My Mom's voice was thick with exhaustion. Since my Dad died, she hadn't been able to sleep. "Where were you?"

She didn't really expect an answer. For the past few months, she had been too lost in herself to notice Seth or me. Most nights I didn't come home, and she didn't say anything. When I had started to smell of pot all the time, she still hadn't said anything. God Bless Prozac. And Seth didn't say anything, either; he was too wrapped up in himself to notice. Thank God for self-absorbed sixteen-year-old boys.

"Sam called." Seth didn't even look up from his dumbass videogame. "He says you have to patrol tonight. And he said that you can't get out of it."

Well crap.

I walked past the video game on my way to my room, not bothering to grab any food from the fridge. If it hadn't been empty, I wouldn't have eaten anything, anyway. Food just didn't taste the same anymore. Before turning to climb the stairs, I kicked the game console. Bright colors flashed across the screen before it went dead.

My brother screamed and cursed behind me, desperately trying to see if his high score saved. I laughed.

I slept through the day, preparing to be up all night. I was grateful it was only going to be Paul- I wasn't up for seeing everyone, having them all in my head.

About seven that evening I forced myself to get out of bed. The last thing I wanted was for Sam himself to come over here. From what Seth had told me, he meant business. Time for another day of being a freaky wolf.

I met Paul outside of my house ten minutes later, already phased. He was just taking off his shirt and tying it to the string wrapped around his ankle.

I scowled at him, or as well as a werewolf could scowl.

"Okay, almost ready," he muttered at me. He walked around the edge of my house, and two minutes later a huge black wolf returned in his place.

We took off silently into the night. That was the nice thing about Paul- there was never any incessant, stupid chatter. He was a temperamental bastard, but a smart temperamental bastard; I had to give him that.

Thanks, I heard. Oops. Time to switch on the trusty old filter that would block every one out.

Shut up, I thought, before quickly starting to play some mind-numbing rock in my head. "Killing in the Name" was perfect for tonight.

If Paul were human, he would probably be glowering at me. As it was, he sent a stream of profanities my way. But Rage Against the Machine drowned them all out nicely.

Seven hours of making a circuit around the boundaries of La Push yielded what, ladies and gentlemen? Drum roll, please… Not a damned thing. I was exhausted- it had been a long time since I'd ever really slept. Usually I was so keyed up that I stayed awake until four or five in the morning.

Suddenly, everything was crashing down on me all at once. My body screamed for relief, but I didn't have anything with me, and now it was punishing me. My mind dredged up everything I didn't want to remember. How screwed up my life was. How scared I was of the future. How Sam had left me, ruined me forever. How Adam had basically raped me. My broad, furry shoulders shook with the emotion. For a wolf, it was a lot of shit to handle.

Everything went quiet. The silence was deafening. No screaming, angry lyrics. Even Paul's thoughts were conspicuously absent, because he was currently standing on four legs about ten feet from me, dark eyes wide.

Shudders continued to rattle the wolf that was also me. When the wolf couldn't take it anymore, she shattered. I was left without any barrier from my pain, no layer of fur and muscle to protect me. Everything was so messed up. I had messed up. Everything was laid out for me to see. I was literally and figuratively naked, shivering on the forest floor.

My eyes fluttered open and closed, everything blurring and then refocusing. Dark green trees. A black animal. Nothing. A man, barefoot and wearing sweat pants. Arms lifting me from the ground. A warm, cotton shirt gingerly pulled over me. Slow movement, like I was made of glass.

The low voice spoke to me, getting louder and then fuzzing out like static on a radio. I could barely hear what they were saying. Another thing that didn't matter. I was almost gone, anyway.

"You are so fucked up, Leah."

"I know," I wasn't sure who I was talking to, the voice or myself? "Oh God, I know."

A/N: Pretty heavy, sort of disturbing. Please remember to review, and let me know your thoughts. Should I continue?