I do not own Twilight, or anything associated with it. That gem is thanks to the wonderful Stephanie Meyer.

WARNING: ADULT THEMES AND AU, just to warn you.

I have suffered (suffer) or experienced some of the themes mentioned, However I can only write from my own experiences and the research that I have carried out. If you feel something is not quite right or unrealistic, feel free to message me and I will try to change it!

The title of the story is from the song, Spanish Sahara by Foals. Each chapter will be accompanied by a song(s) either that I feel relates well to the chapter or I was inspired by a particular lyric or melody.

Thank you to the wonderful Sympathetic Me for betaing this chapter and being ever so patient! I'm a terrible person to work with, so im very grateful for her to be sticking by me :)

And of course, as usual, give me your worst!

Chapter 3 – It's Us That We Despise.

Mountains by Gabrielle Aplin

Always have to justify how my tongue dances,

We're barely getting by on taking chances.

And we come to realise,

It's us that we despise.

The next three days were a blur. A mismatch of memories and nightmares. Charlie came and sat by my bed as I pretended to sleep. I gave up on eating altogether and sipped coffee like it was the only drink on earth. I shuffled around the ward making countless escape plans that I had no intention of fulfilling. Everything seemed to have reached a standstill and I knew why. This was the calm before the storm as Charlie would say. The tranquil serenity was leading up to a hurricane and I had to be ready. I scribbled diary entry after diary entry of ways in which to avoid weight gain or at least to prolong it. Numbers bounced back and forth in my brain. If I ate this much, purged this much, exercised this much, I could stay this size. Nothing worked out. There was always a gradual increase that I wasn't willing to accept. As the minutes dragged into hours and days began to pass, I became increasingly aware that this may be the last time I could comfortably sit at 80lbs. These may be the last days of self-inflicted starvation and that after this point I would be, whether I welcomed it or not, a new healthy breed. I would, in my own terms be getting fat but it wasn't just that, I'd think differently, do different things. I was about to allow myself to be put into a cardboard box, to be controlled and restricted until I out grew said box and was ready to be set free. I noticed that I started pacing, scraping the back of my hand until it bled, chewing nervously on my lips.

'What's wrong Bella?' Charlie would ask, the nurses would ask. I would ask.

'I don't know.' I would mumble and then return to picking at my scabbed skin. I was scared. I was scared that after all of this there might just not be a person left. Just a body. That I had destroyed much more than my internal Organs. I had destroyed myself. I spent hours looking in the mirror. Looking into my blood shot eyes trying to find evidence that I was still down there, somewhere. Remnants of my former self lingered. Scars from my youth, memories of my mother, clothes that used to fit and books I used to adore, but there was no personality. It was as if someone had stolen it while I was sleeping, and in a desperate attempt to not just be a shell, I emptied myself and became one anyway.

Friday passed as slowly as it had come and then Saturday was finally here. This was it. My descent into sanity. Charlie arrived at around 8.40 and did his usual routine of collecting me a coffee from the cafeteria, placing it on my bedside table and launching himself into the sports that happen to be on that day. I didn't understand how he could sit there wasting his life away in front of a square electronic box, but hey, he couldn't understand why I refused to eat and was close to having a panic attack when I did. We were even.

'How are you feeling?' He asked without warning.

'Absolutely swell Charlie, just swell.' I could almost taste the poison in my words. I looked up and he looked down. Eye contact probably wasn't the best idea; in the mood I was in I would shoot laser beams into his pupils and watch him go up in flames. I took a sip from my scalding coffee and allowed it to simmer on my tongue until it burned.

'Do you know when they are discharging you?' He whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

'Never Charlie. Once you get there you don't get out. Did they not tell you that while you were filling in the insurance claim?'

'I meant from here.' His voice was raspy and he looked old. He hadn't been sleeping I could tell, and my constant spew of bitter and heated remarks wasn't helping. He was having a hard time and I was adding fuel to the fire I had made. His eyes closed softly and I hoped that we could both just sleep for an hour or so. Immerse ourselves in our dreams for a little while. I closed my eyes in canon and a wave of tiredness hit me like I'd been hit around the head. I was tired. Very tired. I hadn't realised how my sleeping had affected me. I hadn't had a good night sleep since being in this place. I wish I could blame it on the paper sheets and moving beds or the fact they woke you up several times in the night for observations, but it wasn't. I had been getting nightmares like the ones I used to get when Renee was at her worst. Only this time, most of them involved her real death instead of the one I used to assume was inevitable. They were full of pain, pain I hadn't allowed myself to feel. Everything in them felt almost too real. There would come a point in which I would always realise that I was dreaming and that was it. I would do absolutely everything to get out. To wake myself up and I always did. I'd wake up screaming and crying in a cold sweat with ten nurses standing around me looking down in fear. I would be in absolute panic whilst being completely dead to the world. The nurses all got tired of running in to check that I wasn't having a heart attack and so at some point they took it in turns to sit by my bed, I would see them whilst my observations were being done. I had become rather fond of having someone watch over me. It made me feel secure. Sometimes, I would talk to them instead of falling back to sleep, other times I would stare at them softly in-between naps. They made me feel safe and that was certainly something I would miss.

'Right Isabella, are you ready to go?' I stared at the tall man in front of me. He had become a familiar face in the past few days but I hadn't formally met him. Dr Smith was his name. How original. He led Charlie and me through thick fire doors and down corridors that seemed to have no end. He showed us into a small treatment room and gestured me to sit on the bed.

'I'm going to introduce you to Dr Carlisle Cullen. He is the Head Psychiatrist at FPU. He will be leading your care. We thought it would be nice if you met him before you got there. If you have any questions now would be the time to ask them?' They all looked at me expectantly. I shuffled onto the bed and dangled my feet. I had a million questions to ask. Why was I being sent away? How do I get out? Could I discharge myself? When was I coming back? But butterflies swam around in circles in my stomach and were making me feel ill.

'Hello Bella, I'm Carlisle. How are you feeling today?' Doctor Carlisle Cullen was like nothing you had ever seen before. He was absolutely beautiful. His eyes were a warm liquid gold and his skin was as dazzling as marble. He had a warmth to him that lulled me into an immediate sense of security. His face was soft but his features undoubtedly chiselled. He looked like a god and couldn't of been older than 25. He smiled at me openly and awaited an answer.

'I'm fine.' Nothing else seemed fitting. I couldn't scare Charlie with the truth. That actually I was the most scared I'd ever been in my life. I fumbled with my finger nails and my hands shook ever so slightly. Carlisle must have noticed.

'It's okay to feel scared Bella; in fact I would be worried if you weren't. It is very daunting having to leave everything you know behind to lead a life in a completely clinical environment. It isn't going to be easy. It will probably be the hardest thing you will ever have to do. You seem like a strong intelligent girl and you will come out of this even stronger. It is very important that you know we aren't abandoning you in anyway.' Oh really? 'Everyone needs a little help sometimes and with us you will get all you need and more. I am going to be coming up in the ambulance with you, so if you think of any questions I will be happy to answer them then.' Then it was just Charlie and I again. Soaking up the silence. He moved to come and stand in front of me and pulled my delicate frame into a controlled bear hug. Over the past few days I had absolutely no time for him, but he was my father and I love him. I had missed talking to him and I would miss him dearly. He was everything to me and I the same to him. I was his favourite little girl. I drank in his smell and stole his warmth and we stood there for a minute or so. Carlisle returned with papers to sign and sheets of unnecessary information, the only thing I need to know was when I would be allowed to come home.

'Now as I said earlier, we will be taking you there in an ambulance. Chief swan you are more than welcome to come with Bella, or to follow us in your own car. However don't feel obliged. She will be safe with us.' Charlie looked at me, searching for answer in my eyes, the only problem being he didn't know how to read me anymore. Nobody did.

'Maybe you could come up tomorrow?' I didn't want him to be there to start with. I needed time to unpick the newly stitched bond that was tighter than I had first imagined it could ever be. Carlisle left us again and we said an awkward goodbye. We didn't need to use the words; we both knew what the other was thinking. It seemed silly to say them out loud. Charlie wheeled my suitcase down the corridors as I took slow unsteady steps. We reached the front doors and I gulped in fresh air. It was over whelming. I felt the need to say goodbye to sun. As if I were going to be locked away underground with no communication for a year. Perhaps I was? I was ushered into the back of the ambulance and my suitcase was slid in after me. I watched as tears spilt onto Charlie shirt and was surprised to find my own face was sodden. I was crying.

'I love you Isabella. So much.'

'I love you too.' However much I wanted to take that final measure and call him the term he so rightfully earned when he watched me come into this world, I couldn't. The doors were closed and we left him standing there, staring at us until we were out of sight.

It was a sturdy red brick mansion, two cream pillars and a stone boarder accentuated the doors, it looked like something you would see in England. Beautiful and strong. It settled me slightly. We walked in and were thrust through several doors and a lift. Elevator music was not what I needed right now. I felt my heartbeat for the first time in days. So now it decided to come to life. I swallowed a mouthful of air and sighed heavily. I was weak and empty and at any point I could faint. What a life this was. No wonder I was here. We stopped on the third floor and Carlisle took my case for me. The wheels squeaked as we came to a halt in front of two double doors. Ash Young Adult Unit it read is large blue lettering. Everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. Carlisle opened the door for me and we were greeted by a lanky, dishevelled young man. I guessed he was 28 but he could've easily passed for 18.

'You must be Isabella.' He smiled a toothy grin.

'It's just Bella.' Carlisle said before I could correct the man. This man couldn't get lovelier.

'Okay Bella, if you can just wait here. Patrick should be along soon and we can sort out your bags and stuff then. You are lucky everyone is just about to head on up to bed so you will be able to rest tonight before the animals descend.' He laughed at himself. I looked at my watch; 11.40pm. I hadn't realised the day had gone so swiftly. I smiled as best as I could by my eyes were beginning to fill. Carlisle squeezed my hand and I couldn't hold them in any longer. Tears spilt lazily over my eyes and my breath shortened to small, sharp panting. I didn't like it already. It wasn't home. My heart began to ache. I've changed my mind; I don't need to be here. I will get better. I can do this all at home. Carlisle stared into my eyes as if he were reading my thoughts.

'You can do this Bella, I know you can. I have seen many try and fail, but not you. You will get through this.' I listened to his optimism. I felt like he had misplaced it in me. He didn't even know me. He was wrong. I couldn't do this; I couldn't even keep myself alive at home. What made him so certain I could do it here? Why did everyone seem to think a miracle was going to happen and this place was going to iron out my creases? My creases were ironed in. They weren't going to budge. I allowed the tears to flow as I mulled over the disappointment everyone would feel when I came back, unchanged. The defeat that Charlie would feel when he came to terms with the fact this was me and I would probably die of this before I got any better. Die way before he did.

Patrick came. He was tall and dark and his head reflected the fluorescent lights. He was stern and I took an almost instant dislike to him. He took me into a room and went through my bag as I watched my privacy being cut into shiny pieces. Carlisle waited with me and passed me sorrowful glances. He seemed to understand my anxiety. I came out with a half empty suitcase and a bag, 4 times lighter than before. No aerosols. No laptop. No books with unsuitable content. No paper or pens. Make up was to be kept in a locker along with perfume, DVDs, anything electrical, belts, necklaces, anything sharp, heavy or large. I felt like I had done something wrong, like this was really a prison for the criminally insane. I felt stripped of everything they teach you to hold dear. We were lead through a series of locked doors and through the unit to a locked corridor. It was one straight line with rooms veering off every metre or so. We came to a room with a white number 13 and the name Alice painted above it. This would be my sanctuary for the next however long I was going to be here for. Thankfully I was allowed a little time to unpack my things and settle in. I studied my room. I lay out my clothes on the bed and coordinated them. Trousers and jeans, t-shirts and every day tops. Skirts, shorts and dresses that I had bought with no intention on wearing. Hoodies and sweatpants and then pyjamas and under wear, all neatly folded and placed in the square sections that were left. No hangers allowed. Yay. By the amount of clothes already followed neatly into colour coordinated sections and the sickly smell of strawberries and cream that hung like fog in the air I assumed I was sharing a room; my roommate however was nowhere to be seen. I lay out my books and pictures frames on the desk next to the bed I assumed was mine. The other bed was covered with fuchsia velvet sheets patterned with flowers. It was a single but somehow it managed to hold two ordinary pillows and three throw pillows and still look large. I looked at the picture of me and Charlie from last fall. The fall my mother decided to take her own life and leave me alone with mine. I looked happy. I knew better than to think it was real. True. It was all lies, just like everything else. I arranged my toiletries in appropriate categories in the bathroom and relished the fact it had a door. I had been looking forward to having a bathroom of my own, fingers crossed sharing with this person was better than sharing with Charlie. Now that was something I wouldn't miss.

Someone came to talk to me about a few things, handing me copious amounts of paper. On weekends we woke up at 9am, weekdays 8am. Visiting hours were 6-8pm normally apart from Friday, Saturday and Sunday when it was from 9am until 9pm, excluding meal times. My room-mate was a girl named Alice who was the same age and would be coming back from leave tomorrow. I assumed leave was a stay at home for a few days and wondered if and when I would be allowed on 'leave'. I spoke to a consultant and a quick assessment was made. They took my physical observations, asked me hundreds of questions and then finally weighed me. 79.1. I held back my smile. I'd learnt they don't like it when you are pleased with your weight, they prefer to see you cry over it as they laugh to themselves. I was shown to a room where I had to talk to someone about why I was here, like I didn't already know. By the time I was allowed to sleep it was 3 in the morning. The routine here was tight but they seemed to have no regard for the fact that I was so obviously tired. I settled into bed, pyjamas and my dressing gown on and wrapped in a blanket and a duvet. The bed was single and it wasn't like mine. The light was soft but it wasn't my lamp. Everything seemed okay but it wasn't what I was used to. I fell asleep crying, my mascara staining the pillow. Hello sanity, my old friend.