A/N: Chicklette deserves a bunch of roses and tons of love. She encouraged me to start writing this fic and told me to keep writing when I wanted to stop – plus she came up with the title.
Twilight belongs to SM and the lyrics to Evanescence. Bella's words are mine.
***
Hello
Playground school bell rings again
Rain clouds come to play again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to
Hello
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken
Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello I'm still here
All that's left of yesterday
***
Leaving Arizona; the decision was mine and mine alone. Florida was out of the question. No more unfamiliar places. No more of Renee's flakiness, no more of her flaky hippie friends. No more Saturday morning yoga classes, 'mother/daughter time', no more 'Renee time'. Moving on, moving to Forks. Moving towards the old new.
Charlie, Dad. Awkward hugs and pleasantries. "How you doing kid?". "You haven't changed a bit". Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide. Neither have you Charlie. Still as unobservant as ever.
Silent car ride. Nothing to say. Not a word. Summers past, still the same old Charlie. Still the same old house, the same old room. Time stood still. Everything had changed.
"Change will be good for you Isabella," shrink lady said. "It's not fleeing or pushing what happened away."
Change is good, so I chop off my hair and change the brown to black. Punk rock's got nothing on me.
"Sweetie what have you done?"
Renee is confused.
"Change will give you some perspective," the shrink lady comments.
I don't need perspective. I need to be left alone, but they won't let me be. They want to forget. They want to pretend. If I disappeared they would get that.
All of it.
Whenever I breathe he's there in my head: James. Sweet ganja breath. Nothing sweet about him. Flaky college kid. Rough hands. Rough lips. Rough body. "Come on Bella, you know you like me." Get off me! "Don't be like that, come on. Even Renee thinks we'll be good together." Get. Off. Me. Now! Hands up my shirt, up my skirt, they're everywhere. Kicking and screaming. Sharp pain, then it's over and then nothing. Nothing but my screaming, screaming for ages. He's out cold. Nobody's home.
Renee and good guy find me. The hospital is too loud. Too bright. Docs probing and prying. Cops asking questions. Renee in tears.
My room; these four walls are my sanctuary. If I open my mouth I'll scream, I won't stop 'till my vocal cords have been shredded. A vow of silence and a prayer for my sanity.
My sanity is tested. Crazy shrink woman telling me I'm not alone. Telling me I'll get through this. "Why don't you want to speak Isabella?" A silent shrug and everything fades out. Lost in a maze of antidepressants and brain shrinking sessions. Always the same "she'll come around", "she's still in shock", "She'll speak eventually".
If only they knew. Of course it didn't work, I chose this. I chose my silence. If I speak I'll lose my mind.
Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide.
Renee and Charlie choose to ignore. Oblivious. The easy way out. If you don't think about it, it'll go away. Neat little magic trick. Blissful oblivion leads to happiness. Happiness awaits for Renee and good guy in Florida. Charlie gets me instead. My choice, not his or hers.
Everything is dark, grey and wet. Maybe I'll just blend into the asphalt or the mountains or the walls of my room - become the nothing that I am. Disappearing would be best, but they won't let me. I wanted to stay in Phoenix at the old house. They weren't selling it; why should it be empty?
Old finger paint drawings, old photographs of what used to be hang on the walls like fly paper. Thoughts of happy memories past buzz through the air and stick to the paper like dead bugs.
My past is dead and gone. My present is dying. My future is nonexistent.
Charlie's lack of presence is welcomed. He doesn't hover like Renee. He leaves me to disappear into a cloud of the sweet sticky smoke of forgetfulness.
Covered in my imaginary invisibility cloak, rain threatening to melt me away, first day at Forks High. Purgatory waits to swallow me whole. Too many bodies pushing along the corridors. Too many eyes devouring me. Too many whispering voices. Suffocation is pending.
Body slamming into me brings me out of my haze. Office lady gives me papers upon papers.
"Your dad needs to sign these…"
"Have each of your teachers sign these forms and bring them back here…"
"Your first class is Biology, Mr. Banner's class. Just through the door and to your right…"
Warm stuffy bedroom air; I miss Phoenix. I know every single detail in the wood paneled walls, every face that emerge from the lines and patterns in the wood. They are all familiar, they're all safe. They never speak only listen to my silent utterances, never once disagreeing with me. Sometimes the faces move about. They need change too. Sometimes their bodies come out of the wood and crawl across the walls; they look like white maggots crawling in and out of a cadaver…
Drifting in and out of consciousness…
"Dear, Mr. Yorkie here is in your class as well. He'll take you. Remember to bring back those forms after class."
"Hi, you're Isabella, the new girl."
How perceptive of him
"I'm Eric."
You're forgettable.
A hundred paces, turn around Bella. Go back to Arizona, mom doesn't need to know. Just tell dad you already talked to her. You can be alone.
"I'm on the school paper, we should totes do a story…"
Go away!
"Mr. Yorkie, aren't you running late?"
The nightmare begins; Soon I know I'll wake from this dream. New 'authority figure,' set to mold and conform our minds, hoping to influence us to become something grander than they could ever dream to be. We are the future, minus me. My future is set in stone, changed by the sweet ganja breath boy.
"You must be Isabella. Here are your books and work sheets – take a seat next to Mr. Cullen."
Pretty boys and cheerleader vixens. All the same, nothing but sheep following each others' tails. I see right through you. Poor renditions of fake existences.
I know the name, Charlie speaks it often. Pretty boys, vixen girls, papa doc and lady-who-lunch-mom. Filthy rich and superior. They can buy their happiness.
Cloak covered face, out of sight out of mind. Bronze hair, jade eyes, alabaster skin and saccharine herbal scent. I see right through you and your camouflage. I have my own opaque shield. Don't see or hear me. I am not here.
Bell rings, saved for the first time today.
Calculus.
English.
Chemistry.
Blurry repetitive notions occurring endlessly. First day of many. I get to breathe for 30 minutes. Note book and pen. My only outlet. My only voice. Table at the back of the quad no one will dare to bother me here.
I can't keep my focus with all these sheep here – they all stop and stare and snicker at me. The new addition to this Purgatory.
"Bella?"
What?
Nobody is supposed to talk to me.
The girl is teeny-tiny-slight, brown spikes cover her head. Slap on a pair of fairy wings Pixie Little and fly away - take your freak show entourage with you.
Pixie Little.
Hobo.
Harpy Vixen.
Bear.
Pretty Boy.
Go. Away.
"You're Bella, right?"
Yes, Pixie Little we've already established that.
"I'm Alice. Mind if we join you?"
No.
No.
No.
This will not do, not at all. Go away. Too close, too much noise. Too much of everything.
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
There's only one thing for me to do.
Run.
"Bella?" She shouts.
Breathe Bella, you'll be home soon.
These four walls. This room. My only solace. Let me blend into the walls, take me away from here. If I sit long enough in the corners maybe I'll get my wish.
Front door opens and shuts. Footsteps on the stairs. Daddy's home.
"Bell? You here? The school called..."
"Bell…?"
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping.
Lost control.
Again.
***
A/N: Keep writing or toss it?