A/N: My lovelies. I would like to offer sexual favors if you would willingly nominate this or any of my other stories for the Bellies or the Indies. I'm all kinds of pathetical, I know.

And yep, I know "pathetical" isn't even a word. I totes don't care. :-P

Big thank yous to Adrena for being my beautiful beta. You complete me like the bread completes a sammich.

Go read my silly one-shot entitled "Bella Says Relax." It was meant as a contest entry, but I was apparently wearing my tardo hat when I read the requirements and ended up with an ineligible piece. Oh, pity. Whatever. You still have some silliness to read. It's my first vamp fic, along with my first "T" rating, so be all gentle with me like the virgin I am. K? K. Yes.

Song in this chapter is "Reflections" by From Autumn to Ashes. The quote before the song is from Katie Holmes playing Joey on Dawson's Creek. It's from Season 4, "Promicide."

Yeah, bitches. I googled that shit.

Now grab your hankies and gird your loins. If I did my job right, there won't be a dry eye in this joint.

HERE WE GO!

BPOV

On Friday evening, I returned home from class to find a note written in my father's chicken scratch stuck to the fridge. It read:

Hey Bells, I won't be home this weekend. I'll be out fishing with Billy and Ezra. -Dad

I pulled the note down and crumpled it in my hand. The house was dark and eerie without anyone here, and there were creaks and groans as it settled around me. I sighed miserably and opened the refrigerator, only to slam it shut in disgust.

It was completely empty, save for an old moldy package of cheese and a carton of rancid soymilk. Apparently, my father wasn't going to take care of the grocery shopping like my mother had before she'd taken off for parts unknown.

I guess it's not like he would even know what to buy for us, anyway. I'd be lucky to end up with a six-pack of Rainer beer and a box of Lucky Charms.

With a resigned sigh, I pulled the food money jar off the top of the fridge and peeked inside. As I'd already assumed, it was empty. I returned it to its place and grabbed my keys.

I needed to get out of here, anyway. Might as well go to the store and get some comfort food for the long weekend ahead.

The harsh lights of the supermarket gave me a headache as I scanned the aisles for the usual suspects: lentils, rice, tofu, soymilk, bread, fruit, and vegetables. On an impulse fueled by my raging depression, I also grabbed a bag of Veggie Booty and some Soy Delicious ice cream for the lonely night in front of me.

When I got to the front to pay for my groceries, I automatically stiffened when I recognized Edward/Tony standing in line in front of me. I quickly scanned the numbers above the other lanes to see if anyone else was open, but I had no such luck. I grumbled and decided I should at least say hello, because it would be a lot more awkward if I didn't.

I cleared my throat and girded my loins in preparation. "Um, hey Edward," I said awkwardly.

He spun around and looked down at me with surprise. I noticed he wasn't exactly dressed the way he did for class, but he wasn't dressed like he did for shows, either. I realized then that I'd become accustomed to thinking of him and reacting to him based on how he was dressed at any particular time.

This revelation both frustrated and confused me, and I didn't like it. I had enough confusion and frustration these days.

"Oh, hey. Ah...how are you?" he asked, just as awkwardly.

I caught myself staring directly at the center of his chest, completely spaced out as I stewed over my shitastic situation. He was wearing a black hoodie that covered all of his tattoos and his jeans were dark and slightly loose, hanging in a very attractive way on his lean body. I wouldn't have recognized him if I hadn't spotted his uniquely colored hair; it was looking a little messy and a lot delicious.

Too bad I'd already sworn to loathe him for all eternity.

I smiled weakly at my brain's attempt at a little Elizabeth Bennett humor. Sigh. Then I remembered that I was standing there, staring at him while he waited for a response. I snapped my mouth shut and looked down at his cart. "So what's on the menu for tonight?" I asked instead, hoping it was okay to pretend we weren't mortal enemies.

I snorted at the thought.

He turned and glanced back at his choices. "Hmm, probably either an Amy's version of the Hungry Man or some tofu scramble. What about you?"

He sounded friendly enough, so I figured we were going to play nice for now. I was a bit relieved, to be completely honest. I didn't like the feelings of anger and frustration that seemed to swell up inside me whenever he was around.

"Oh, probably just a salad and some junk. I'm going to be on my own all weekend, so I think I'll probably break out the new PPK cookbook and make a mess," I replied.

He looked surprised. "Isa came out with a new cookbook?"

I nodded. "Yeah, for brunch. It looks awesome."

Were we having a moment here? Were we, dare I say it, bonding?

I was amazed at myself, and at him. I felt a little less depressed now that I was having a non-confrontational conversation with him.

"Sounds interesting. I'll have to go pick it up and check it out," he replied as he pulled up to the register and began unloading his cart. He turned his attention to the cashier, so I didn't bother to respond. I observed him as he interacted with her, always very polite and friendly. I wondered why I couldn't have met this Edward, as opposed to the political douche on that first day of class.

When he was done checking out, he turned and gave me a slight wave...which really consisted of a half-hearted swoop of his hand before it landed on the cart handle as he left. I gave him a jerky head-nod in return.

When I got home, the house was darker and emptier than before. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn that someone had come in and burglarized the place while I was out.

But I knew burglars didn't steal things like warmth and happy family memories; those kinds of things were only precious to the people to which they belonged.

It was those kind of priceless things that my house was now missing, and I could feel their loss like a missing limb.

I hurriedly put the groceries away and retreated to my bedroom; I was no longer hungry.

Around nine o'clock, the house phone rang and I ran to answer it, thinking it would be my dad calling to check in. "Dad?" I asked as soon as I picked up the phone.

"No, Bella...it's M...me," came Renee's reply. I heard the nervousness in her voice, but it didn't matter to me.

"Oh. Hi."

I wasn't going to give her an ounce of me. This would be done the hard way.

She sighed. "Listen, I wanted to call and try to explain some things to you."

"Fine, go ahead," I replied abrasively.

Renee ignored my tone and continued speaking. "We said some things before I left, and I want to clear the air. When things like that happen, it's like a negative energy is released and I don't want to let that sort of thing pollute the air."

She sounded nothing like the woman who used to be my mother. In fact, she sounded like a New Ager parroting something her newest Guru was spouting off. I gave a disgusted groan and pressed the phone to my ear so hard I knew it would turn red. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm not going to clear the air with you just because you feel bad about telling me I was a mistake."

She gasped. "Isabella, what happened was nobody's fault. Please, just listen..."

I cut her off. "Nobody's fault? You admitted to my face that I was a mistake and you never wanted me in the first place. It is somebody's fault: yours!" I shouted into the phone, becoming furious now.

Her airy parrot voice cut off and her more familiar angry voice came through the line. "Isabella Marie Swan, you listen to me: I'm not the only one to blame for this mess. Your father should have known better. I've never been wife or mother material, and now that you're grown up, I can say I've done my job. I'm not going to waste the rest of my life stuck in some small backwoods town with a man I never even loved, with a life I've always hated."

Her angry words pierced my heart like a million shards of jagged glass. I felt my stomach heave as I listened to her make a mockery of every happy memory I'd ever had of my family.

"What are you saying, Mom?" I asked in a tiny voice that shuddered and shook like a terrified little girl.

She released a breath. When she spoke, she was calmer this time. "You don't need me anymore, Bella. You're your own person now and you can take care of yourself. Trust me; you're better off without me there."

I watched any hope of reconciliation with my mother float away like a balloon. Her words effectively sealed the casket on our relationship.

"I see," I said with deceptive calm. "Well, if that is the case, then I'd suggest a clean break. Let's not even bother to pretend, shall we?"

She swallowed audibly. "Please don't...please don't tell your father we've spoken. I don't want him to know where I am. He's taking this very hard."

I stopped short of hanging up on her. I needed to know where she was, if only so I could mentally banish her there to rot for all eternity. "Where are you?" I asked.

"I'm at a retreat in Arizona. We're leaving for a vision quest tomorrow and my leader told us it was important for us to try and cleanse all the negative energy from our lives before we go," she explained.

All I heard was her selfish nature showing through once again. I snorted derisively and clenched the phone until my knuckles hurt. "Well, that's just great. I hope you have fun on your little 'vision quest.' Don't forget to write so you can tell me more wonderful stories about how my life is such a fucking joke to you."

I slammed down the phone without waiting for a reply.

She was dead to me.

My stomach was in so many knots that it caused me to double over in pain. I felt like I was going to be sick. I ran to the dark bathroom and my knees hit the cool linoleum as I fell in front of the toilet, retching up the meager lunch I'd had along with all the sickness in my stomach brought on by my mother's phone call.

I cried and moaned miserably as my stomach clenched and heaved, unable to stop even after there was nothing left. I wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet before falling back against the cold wall behind me. I curled in on myself and clenched my hair in my hands as I shook and sobbed.

My life was a joke. My entire existence was a mockery. My own mother didn't want me, had never wanted me. My father had never once let on that he'd had to force her to be here, to have me and keep me.

I hated them both in that moment.

I hated her for being such a cold and heartless bitch. I hated her for telling me things that no parent should ever reveal to their child. I hated her for stealing the only mother I'd ever known, only to replace her with a replica of the woman who'd pretended for twenty-one years.

I hated my father for being with someone like her in the first place. I hated him for knocking her up and forcing her to keep me. I hated him for marrying her and making her stay here where she wasn't happy. I hated him because he couldn't protect me from this person she'd become, and I hated him most of all for bringing me into the world with someone who could do what she'd just done to our family.

I hated the fucking world for not giving me a fucking break.

I gripped my hair harder and harder, pulling on it with my clenched fists. I wanted to pull all of it out as I screamed and screamed and screamed until this pain wasn't pulling on my chest like claws anymore.

That was when the idea took shape. My body stopped shaking as my resolve set in. I dried my face and stood up to wash my mouth out in the sink. I didn't even bother to look at myself in the mirror as I headed back to the kitchen on a mission.

I sifted through the junk drawer until I found what I was looking for and headed upstairs. In my bedroom, I found the CD I wanted and put it on. I cranked the volume and headed for the bathroom with every intention of following through with this.

The words before the song filled the silent air and I stared at myself in the mirror as I said them right along with her: "You break my heart into a thousand pieces and you say it's because I deserve better?"

Anger twisted my face and I held up the first hunk of hair, cutting it cleanly from my head as the music began pounding against the walls. I screamed along with them, feeling the catharsis of the moment fill me.

"I see my reflection and the pain across me as I find myself striving to catch you from

This will hurt me less and less every time until I feel nothing

Anger wells inside me

I see me, frowning in your eyes

Slip away

Far away from me

Further from me

You seem to drift far away

Caught myself wishing you back as I strive for you..."

I held up another piece of hair and hacked at it with the dull kitchen scissors. Half my hair was lying in a pile on the ground, and a dark sense of satisfaction filled me. I kept chopping away until I had only a few inches of hair on my head.

The next step was obvious.

I drove back to the grocery store wearing a hat. I tossed my purchase on the conveyor belt and pointedly ignored the gaping stare from the very same cashier who'd helped me earlier. I bought the box of hair dye and returned home to get to work.

Thirty minutes later, I stared at myself in the mirror. I had a short black pixie cut; it was ragged and cracked-out looking, but I felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders.

I no longer resembled my mother.

Everyone always exclaimed over how much we looked alike with our long brown hair, and I never wanted anyone to compare me to her ever again.

I examined myself critically now that my anger was assuaged and my sanity had returned. I looked exhausted and washed out. My eyes were swollen and red, and my skin was deathly pale. I looked traumatized, starved for the love I no longer felt existed.

I needed this day to be over, so I took a long hot shower and let the water cover my tears. I cried brokenly, hunched in on myself against the shower wall. I didn't bother to shampoo my hair or wash myself in any way, with the exception of the tears.

I swore to myself there and then that this would be the last time I would waste my tears on my mother. After tonight, after this very moment, I would no longer allow her to hurt me again. Her words were meaningless now, and her selfishness would not affect me any longer.

After the water started to run cold, I turned it off and stepped out of the tub. I was shaky with exhaustion, both physical and mental. I toweled off and headed for my bedroom, grateful for the small fact that my hair was so short that I wouldn't need to blow dry it before I went to sleep.

I fell into my bed and curled in on myself, willing this day to end. I didn't bother to put on some pajamas or even pull the blankets up to cover myself; I just laid there and allowed the world to go dark as I drifted off into dark emptiness.