Hi... again. The only reason another chapter is up so soon is because I am at home sick, and have nothing better to do than write. As I said earlier, I doubt it is going to become a habit. Please review!!

I don't own anything, anything recognisable belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Edward POV

As I drove off, I wondered what the point was. I knew they never looked for me anymore; they had given up on punishing me for skipping school, because they knew that nothing they did would or could stop me. Performing a quick – and illegal – u-turn I sped off in the opposite direction to where I was originally headed, now heading towards the house. Today, I think, I will finally put one of my plans into action...

With this resolve in mind I pushed my Holden almost to its limits as my body was fuelled with the desire to finally end it. I walked into the house, thankful Esme wasn't there, sometimes she spent the day working from home, and I was grateful that today wasn't one of those days. Sitting on my bed, I grabbed my box out from its hiding place underneath my bed. If anyone had ever found this box, I would have been dead before they got over the shock of what was in it.

There was my collection of blades, closing in on twenty, along with a small container of sleeping pills, from when Carlisle decided he would put me on them. He had thought I wasn't sleeping properly, a few years after I had started to live with them, he took me off the pills pretty quickly when he saw that they were having next to no effect. He didn't realise that the reason they had no effect was because I didn't need them, I always slept well, sleep being my only escape from the world that I don't wish to live in, and if I ever couldn't sleep, I would just cut myself enough that I would pass out, but not die. So instead, I planned ahead, never actually taking the pills, instead hiding them in my box for the day when I would use them in one of my attempts. Carlisle never knew I didn't take them. Over the years I had got very good at hiding things.

There was also a list. It was about fifteen points long, and all the points were well thought out, and would hopefully be successful. I wasn't silly enough to think that I was certain of succeeding the first time I tried to kill myself, so I had multiple plans; aside from the first one, all of which didn't need blades or pills to put into motion. I made sure that they wouldn't need very much to succeed, because if my first attempt was unsuccessful, then they were likely to take away anything they thought I could use.

I carefully hid all of my blades but one around my room, so that even if they found the soon to be empty box, I would still have them, and I placed the list in a plastic sleeve, before hiding it in a slit in my mattress. I took the box of pills out and hid it in a clean pair of socks. Hopefully no-one will find any of the stuff I just hid.

I double and triple checked that my door was locked, and sat at my desk. I contemplated writing them a note, but what would I say to them? There was nothing I wanted to tell them, and nothing I wanted them to know. So I skipped the whole idea of a note.

I checked the time: 12.35pm... Was that long enough? I should still have at least two hours before anyone else would be home, and it would take them at least an hour to figure out that something was wrong... Yes, I did have time, I decided.

My actions and thoughts suddenly slowed down. Why was I rushing this so much? It was something I had wanted for so long, and now it was finally time, why should I rush things, risk not doing it properly, and not savour the moment?

The only blade I had not hidden was my favourite, the sharpest and smoothest of them all. I held it now, lovingly in my hand, before laying it down on my made bed so I could take off my top, I didn't want anything getting in the way, or possibly slowing my blood flow.

I propped my pillows up against the end of my bed, and sat, leaning against them. I started with my left arm first, two deep, long, parallel cuts, running from my wrist, going three quarters of the way to my elbow. I heard a car come down the driveway and stop, but thought nothing of it, it was probably just Esme getting home early from work. I doubt she would come check on me.

I was starting to get a bit dizzy from blood loss, so I thought I should quickly finish the job. I created identical cuts on my right wrist, slumping back against my pillows, and almost happily watched my life force drain out of me, staining my bed sheets, and dripping onto my floor. I vaguely registered someone knocking on my bedroom door, before I drifted off into unconsciousness for what was hopefully the last time...

This is not the end, still got a bit more to go, please don't give up on it.

Maddison