Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or anything familiar. Look for a more detailed disclaimer at the bottom.

Rated: T.

Author: The Nervous Rambler.

Summary: AU. AH. A/B E/J Em/R. 'Why won't you let me help you, Bella?' 'Because you can't help me unless you believe me!'

The next morning didn't start out better than the first. I had figured if I just set my radio to go off when I needed to get up, I wouldn't be so cranky. I mean, there wouldn't be a blaring beeping noise sounding in my ear. There'd be a catchy tune or even possibly one of my favourite songs. How could you possibly wake up in a sour mood if it's your favourite song whose waking you up? However, the song I woke up to was rather ironic, and I wasn't sure what to do with it.

The song that woke me up was Sober by Pink.

Irony at its finest, people.

But I guess it was better than the beeping, seeing as I hadn't hurled this across the room as well. And I did have something catchy to sing along to in the shower as I got ready. Singing in the shower was one of my favourite hobbies, actually, so the morning was turning up already. There was something about it that just made me want to sing, where usually I'm reluctant to even talk. I guess because unless someone is listening for you, then they can't hear you above the spraying water of the shower. Or maybe it just felt right, standing there, shampooing, and doing nothing else. That would be a long stretch of silence, and naked silence is always awkward.

Charlie was at the kitchen table again when I got downstairs. It seemed to be the only time he ever was sitting there; he ate supper, and I'm assuming lunch, in his chair in the living room so he could watch TV as well. I offered him a half smile as I grabbed the carton of juice and a glass, perching on the kitchen chair across from him again. I had deemed it my perching spot last night, seeing as I could never sit properly in it. "So what's on the agenda today?" I asked, sipping from my juice and scrunching my face up.

Bad idea. I had just brushed my teeth in the shower.

Charlie chuckled at the face, turning the page of his paper. "Figured I'd pick up some dinner after dropping you off at the hospital."

"Huh?" I asked, my brows furrowing. Drop me off at the hospital?

"Yeah," Charlie frowned. "For your sessions with Carlisle, remember?"

"Vaguely." I huffed, scowling at nothing.

Sighing, Charlie set his paper down and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, kiddo, but it's got to be done, or else they'll take you back to the hospital." I nodded, still scowling. "So how was your first day? Make any friends? Any, uh, guys I should be aware of?"

That lifted my mood some as I snorted. "No, but I'll be sure to give all the guys a warning that Poppa Bear is making his rounds." Charlie gave a nod, puffing up his chest as he smiled at me. "Any friends? Well… I don't know, maybe."

"Maybe? Maybe's good, right?" He asked, rinsing out his cup and plate.

Shrugging my shoulders, I grabbed a pen and started to doodle on his paper. "Yeah, I guess so. I haven't scared her off yet, which is good."

"Does she know about…" He nodded to my wrist band.

"Yup, and apparently has no problem with it."

"That's great, Bells."

Yeah, until she figured out why I was diagnosed with it. "I don't know, I'm not going to hold my breath." I grumbled, getting up and wandering over to the fridge.

"You're not much of an optimist, are you?" Charlie said, shaking his head. "You want a ride today?"

"No, thanks though. See you after school." I called as he nodded and headed out the door.

With a sigh, I looked around myself before getting ready to leave. First line of business was trying to remember where I left my black beanie last night. It was a little hazy but I think I remembered crashing on the couch at one point, so I checked there first. And alas, it was wedged between cushions, but I snatched it up with a wicked grin, pulling it on. The I ran around the house, absently tying the black tie around my neck, rolling up the sleeves of my red button up, slipped on my converse, and grabbed fingerless black gloves.

The grand search for my beanie had me running late and I'd probably have to run. Quick as I could, I grabbed a belt, doing it up to hold up my faded black jeans, and grabbed my water bottle before filling it up quickly.

Holding a pop tart in my mouth, I swung the front door closed behind my and locked it, pulling on my backpack as I raced down the driveway.

I was a panting mess and only half way to school by the time I gave up and sat on the side of the road to catch my breath. I'd rather be late than explode one of my lungs. Honestly. But to my luck, a car slowed down to a stop in front of me. Apprehensive, but still exhausted, I peered over the door and into the window, looking inside.

Angela Weber. I recognized her from gym class, she was the one sitting out because she hurt her elbow or something earlier that morning. She had seemed friendly enough, smiling politely when I had looked over, telling me where my next class was. Here she was again, helping me out. Her kind grey eyes looked worried behind her own glasses, not unlike mine, as she tucked a lock of her light hair behind her ear. "Need a ride, Bella?"

Huh. She even remembered my name. With an appreciative smile, I jumped in, buckling up as she started off again. "Thanks. I don't think the teachers would have approved of me being late on my second day."

Angela smiled and shook her head. "Probably not. You don't have a car?"

Shaking my own head, I looked around the interior of the car. It was nice – not expensive, but it wasn't all dirty and falling apart. "Nope. It's not a long walk and I enjoy being outside, but I was running a little late today."

She nodded in understanding. "Ah. Well if you ever need a ride, you can just send me a text; I live a couple houses down from yours so it's no big deal." Well, you learn something new every day. I hadn't known she lived so close. "Here's my number." She said, tossing me her phone. "Put yours in mine?"

Nodding again, I quickly put in both our numbers, pausing as something fluttered in my chest. A warm sensation. Nice. Friendship maybe? "Are we friends now?" I blurred out before I could stop, blushing like mad.

Angela laughed, looking over at me with a smile. "You're even more socially awkward than I am," She said, slightly disbelieving before she smiled and nodded. "Yes, we're friends now." She said. "I think we'll be good friends, you and I."

"Er, good." I mumbled, looking away out the window.

Bella the Winner: 1.

Bella the Failure: Well, a billion at this point.

But still.

I made a friend.

XXxxXXxxXX

"Not that I don't appreciate the consideration," I mused as Angela and I moved forward in the lunch line. "But why haven't you asked me yet?"

Angela looked over her shoulder at me with a quirked eyebrow as she grabbed a sandwich. "Asked you what?" I dangled my wrist in front of her, smiling sheepishly at the look the lunch lady gave me. "Oh, well I figured you'd tell me when you wanted to. No use in going prying people for information they don't hand over up front, you know?" She said, grabbing a bottle of water. "Want one?"

Holding up my own, I smirked. "I'm good. The school's water here would just seem too bland for my tastes."

Angela continued to watch me for a second before she smiled and put it back. "You're obviously up to something."

"Maybe, maybe not." I shrugged.

Just as Angela was about to reply, I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped a foot in the air. "Damn, Alice! You nearly gave me a heart attack." I breathed, clutching said heart.

Giggling, Alice rolled her golden eyes. "Sorry; I'll be sure to stomp my way over next time."

"I'm not sure you can," I murmured, frowning. "I think your stomping would be the equivalent of fat mice running around." Alice, and Angela for that matter, had blank faces. "You know, just barely heard still."

A booming laugh sounded somewhere in the background, more specifically; the corner of the room where the Cullens usually sat. Angela just scrunched up her face, looking at me curiously. "Are you high?"

Warmer…

"No, I'm not high." I scoffed, waving off her comment. Alice was frowning at me again and I shifted uncomfortably, the disappointed look in her eye slapping me across the face. I tried to shake it off though. This was my life, my illness, and I'd do what I saw fit. Who was she to judge me? I barely knew her – her opinion shouldn't bother me that much.

But it did and I ended up scowling, looking away from her. "Did you need something, Alice?" I asked, irritated.

She huffed, obviously not liking my attitude. "Well I was going to ask if you wanted to sit with me and my family."

"Pass." I shot back, not liking her attitude either.

Again, dammit, the look of hurt that crossed her face was like a punch to the gut. "Oh… Okay."

Quickly, I backtracked, feeling like I just kicked a puppy. "Not that I don't want to, because I wouldn't mind sitting with you," I offered a smile, somewhat feeble, but still. "It's just that I already said I'd sit with Angela and her friends. She invited me this morning."

Alice's golden eyes travelled over to Angela who ducked behind me, nodding before they met mine again. "Alright, I guess I'll just have to settle for sitting with you in Photography." She said, smiling that beaming smile of hers again.

"How will you ever cope until then?" I asked sarcastically.

She placed a hand over her heart. "It will be a struggle but I think I'll manage." With that, she giggled and danced off back to her table.

Angela shook her head with a smile and led me over to her table that was full of people. "Guys, this is Bella; I invited her to eat with us. Bella, this is Ben, Jessica, Eric, Mike, Lauren, and Tyler."

And like I suspected, all their eyes travelled to the thick plastic band around my wrist, what I didn't expect though, was Ben to nudge a chair out with his knee and nodded at it. It was next to him. "Hey," He greeted with a lopsided grin.

"Hi." I murmured, looking up to catch the friendly smile Eric gave me and Jessica's outstretched hand. "Hi."

She wildly shook our hands. "I'm Jessica, well, you already know that, obviously, but we actually have English together. I sit a couple rows back." That's why she looked familiar. "You should totally move to the back with me, Steven is like, so boring."

"Er, sure." I replied, sitting back as everyone started up their conversations again. Every now and then one of them would look over at me curiously, or their eyes would travel back to the wrist band, but Ben seemed to be the only one in the school, other than Alice, who was perfectly content with me. He didn't mind one way or another and quickly launched into the topic of Dragon Age, which I had heard a lot about surprisingly. I had seen a bunch of commercials and trailers for it on youtube and had really wanted to play it. Ben took the liberty of filling me in on this and that and invited me over to his place to check it out.

With great reluctance, I had to decline. My session with Carlisle was that evening, but asked him if tomorrow would work. Eric said he'd pick me up on the way because he was hanging out with Ben tomorrow as well and he lived close to me.

The rest of the day flew by after that until Photography. Since I was behind in that class, the teacher had asked Alice to teach me the basics and help me through everything I had missed. The first day was just teaching me little things about the camera, pictures, and measurements. Today Alice had taken me to the dark room in the back where the photos were developed, teaching me how to mix the chemicals that the pictures were put in before being hung up. And boy was that a lot of work. Alice made it fun though and we joked around, talking and just hung out back there mostly. By the end of the class, we had only done half a dozen pictures, much less than the usual thirty two.

But that class ended all too early as well and soon I was walking back home to put my stuff away and chill until Charlie got there. Once he did, he had a quick shower while I munched on small snacks and watched the TV. Then I was off once more, being dropped off at the hospital and made my way to Carlisle's office.

I really hoped he just wanted to sit there and talk because after that day, I was exhausted.

Carlisle smiled a friendly smile at me as I sunk lower in the comfy, cushioned chair. "Good evening, Bella. How are you?"

My shoulders rose and fell in a lazy shrug. "Meh. Alright, I suppose."

He nodded, sitting back in his own chair and grabbed a pen, clicking it. His office seemed stereotypical, but strangely enough, suited him. His walls were filled with shelves and shelves of books, his desk a dark oak covered in papers, all in neat piles, and a lamp. Surprisingly, there was no computer, like most offices today. "So, why don't we start by you telling me why you're here, Bella."

My brows furrowed. "Shouldn't you know? Don't you have, like, notes or something from my last doctor?"

"Yes, but I'd like to know your opinion on the matter. Your words, not his." He replied.

With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair. "Fine. I… I have Schizophrenia." I knew he'd want me to elaborate and I shifted in my seat, biting my lip. "And I…god, this is going to sound lame…I hear and see…ghosts. Dead people." The Sixth Sense really made it hard for anyone at my old hospital to take me seriously. "I've got a pain in my head, severe pain and trauma… but no wounds. No causes. They said the pain was just in my head as well, just part of my…psychological disorder."

Carlisle was writing away furiously, his face thoughtful. "And you've had Schizophrenia all your life?"

One of the few questions my last doctor didn't bother asking. All he cared about was if I had it or not. He mostly focused on trying to get rid of it, not understanding it, or how it happened.

"No," I replied, and Carlisle seemed shocked. Most people with Schizophrenia generally had it all their lives, or at least had the gene from heredity, later triggering it. I had neither. "I, er, developed it after a car accident. I was five and my mom was taking me to the mall when someone ran their red light. They got the back of the car on the opposite side of where I was sitting, but my head smashed through the window. Technically I was dead. My heart stopped beating for three and a half minutes, and then I was in a coma for a month after that. When I woke up, the pain wouldn't stop and…well, I saw them."

He continued writing for a minute before looking back up. "I'm sorry about the accident, Bella." Again, surprisingly enough, he seemed genuine, even if he didn't know me. "And your last medication didn't work."

I shook my head. "Nope. The only thing that seems to work is alcohol. Numbs the pain and blocks out the voices and images. Ironic, that I'm only sane with pissed drunk." I chuckled.

And so for the rest of the session, I spoke with Carlisle about this and that. What my last doctor did and asked, how I felt about different things, Carlisle's own plans on my treatment. By the time we were done, it was dark out, and I was yawning like mad.

Carlisle walked me to his office door, chuckling softly at my last comment. "Well I'll see you in three days, Bella. Have a good night."

"You t-ung." Grunting, I watched the room spin, reaching out to steady myself. Carlisle helped me while I waited for my gut to sit and the painful cloud in my head to clear.

Carlisle's face was concerned as he looked at me. "Are you alright, Bella? You look pale and your heart is hammering."

How did he know my heart was hamm-

"Code blue. We need a crash team in room 205. Code blue."

Carlisle frowned, looking away from the PA system and back to me. "I'm sorry, Bella. That's me. Are you alright, do you need me to send someone up here for you?"

I shook my head. "No, you go help whatever a code blue is. I'm good. Just tired."

He hesitated before nodding, zipping off down the hall while I ran a hand through my hair and started for the elevator. Poking the button to my floor, I took off my glasses and pressed my palms gently against my eyes, sighing. Stupid headaches. Might as well have an ice pick sticking out of my forehead all the time, from all that pain.

Charlie was there, waiting for me as I stepped out of the hospital, holding up a bag of what I assumed was supper. With a painful grin, I got in the car, wanting nothing more than to grab a bottle and head to bed.

Hopefully tomorrow would be better.

Much shorter than the first chapter, I know. Sorry about that, but I wanted to get this one up and get some feedback. I'll try to make the next one longer.

Review please.

The Nervous Rambler.