Revision 1.0

Want to thank all those that read, added this story to any of their lists, or reviewed. You guys rock!

I don't own Twilight- but I do own an awesome espresso machine. Mmm, espressos.

Chapter Four - Walking Out

I woke up to an annoying beeping sound and the hum drum of machinery. Bright white lights filled my vision as soon I cracked my eyes open. Shooting pain clouded my mind in a hazy wave if numbness and I clenched my eyes shut.

My head felt like it was split wide open and my brain was being pushed against my skull rhythmically to the beat of my heart. I groaned at the disgusting, bitter taste in my mouth, silently praying for some toothpaste or a breath mint.

I slowly cracked open an eye and opened the other once I adjusted to the light. I silently took in my surroundings. The white walls, the hard ass bed, the needle in my arm. I was in a fucking hospital.

Fuck, I must have fallen down or done something equally clumsy to end up here. I struggled to sit up without snagging my IV drip, but I finally pulled myself up against the plastic headboard and looked around my room some more. There weren't any visitors surrounding my bedside or sleeping in a corner, not that I was expecting any. No. My mother was possibly shopping for some more Jimmy Foo's or whatever. And my father was, well, I had no idea why he wasn't in the hospital with me. Maybe he was working, but that didn't explain why Rosalie and Emmett were nowhere in sight. What the fuck? Why weren't they fucking here?

They don't care about you, a ghostly voice murmured in my head.

My breath hitched as that note came to the forefront of my mind. Crippled with the sudden pain in my heart, I cried out in agony. I felt that feeling of suffocation. I couldn't breathe. My heart was beating ridiculously fast in my chest and the loud beeping of the machinery was ringing in my ears.

Panic.

My eyes darted all over the room. I felt a sharp sting at my side and I tried to open my mouth and take a breath, but I couldn't. Breathe, you fucking idiot.

I finally sucked in a shaky breath as tears sprang in my eyes. That fucking note. That godforsaken note was going to be the death of me- literally.

I took in a few calming breaths before wiping my eyes. The door swiftly opened, the slightest squeak echoed into the room due to the old hospital doors. Forks Hospital was the oldest establishment in this dank town, aside from the high school, of course.

A blonde man walked into the room, a small smile on his lips. Doctor Cullen was and has always been my on call doctor. Anytime I got into some accident caused by my own two feet, the Doc would be there to assess the damage and stitch me up when necessary, which was almost always needed. I felt bad for him, having to constantly fix me up.

"Bella you gave us quite a scare." Doctor Cullen face was grave, and I looked down at my hands in my lap to avoid looking at him. I didn't want to see the pity reflecting back at me.

He sighed while sitting at the end of my unpleasant bed. I could practically feel the warm, calming vibes rolling off his person. I continued to stare at my hands, refusing to look at his face.

"What happened?" I asked silently. I honestly didn't remember what landed me in the hospital in the first place. I was scared and confused, but I wanted an answer.

"Well, Isabella you had a panic attack. You fainted due to lack of oxygen and hit your head pretty hard on the way down," Doctor Cullen replied, his calm doctor-y voice back on.

I glared at my hands relentlessly. A panic attack? I've never had one of those. I guess you always try something once.

While biting my lip, I questioned Doctor Cullen if I was allowed to go home. He sighed before saying yes. He then advised me to not stress out as much and enjoy my youth. I grimaced. He didn't know what the fuck I was going through or what being young even meant these days. I didn't think his pretty ass received hate mail. I chocked back a sob as I nodded at his advise.

Soon enough I'd be home, resting on my bed and ignoring the whole world. I was finally going to be able to curl in a ball and let the never-ending pain encircle me. If I wasn't feeling so sorry for myself I would've laughed at my emotional thoughts.

My dad popped into my room out of the blue and insisted Doctor Cullen to give me drugs. Well, not in those words, but that was basically what he was suggesting. I had to put my foot down and convince him that I wasn't crazy. Panic attacks didn't equal crazy.

"Dad," I mumbled, "I'm okay."

He squinted at me, barely noticing that I was in the room the whole time. There was an awkward silence and I had the sudden urge to do get up and dance to show tunes. Of course, I didn't do it, but it probably would have been better embarrassing myself than having to deal with this suffocating stillness.

Doctor Cullen spoke up and reassured my dad that no, I did not need any type of pills. It was just one panic attack and while the Doc was slightly apprehensive to let me go, he only recommended therapy sessions. Dad seemed to like the idea. I didn't. I sighed when he said he'd talk to my mom about it and didn't talk until we got home, the radio speaking volumes between us.

I slammed the car door shut and walked to the house. As I climbed onto the porch steps, I looked up from the wet floor and froze when I saw a tiny figure plopped down on my porch swing. There sitting on my porch swing was none other than Mary Alice Brandon with flowers in her hands. Fucking flowers.

My jaw dropped and I distinctly heard myself saying, "what the fuck". My dad scowled at me for swearing so loudly and pushed me forward.

"Don't be so rude. She's been trying to see you all day," he told me gruffly. I could sense his confusion, too. Compared to my mom, he was always slow to get a full gauge on certain situations and failed to guess my reaction. I called him emotionally crippled. He said I was too weird.

But this was weird.

Okay, who gave that bitch acid? I could obviously see that she wanted to talk. I mean, she was sitting right there and she had fucking blue tulips. Sure, they were my favorite, but what the fuck? Did I wake up in an alternative universe or some shit like that? This wasn't real. I was definitely dreaming.

I pinched myself, instantly cringing at the slight pain. Nope, definitely awake.

I rubbed my arm as I finished walking up the porch steps, the ball of dread snowballing in my stomach. I was going to be forced to talk to Alice. What did she want?

She sprang up from her seat on the porch swing and handed me the flowers right away. I silently thanked her as I warily grabbed them, trying to read her expression. She probably dusted the roses with anthrax. First she's sweet, then...

"Ugh, not to sound like a bitch, but what the hell are you doing here?" I blurted out.

Her tinkling laugh rang out and I bit my tongue to stop myself from telling her how irritating her voice really was. The flowers earned her some extra points.

She wiped the invisible tears from her eyes, careful to not smudge her perfectly applied make-up. "Bella. No offense, but you sorta did sound like a bitch."

And there's that tongue-biting again. I was severely tempted to throw the anthrax-coated roses at her and tell her to go back to shopping in the toddler's section at Gap. I hated her. She was trying to be all nice, giving me poisonous flowers and then calling me a bitch. But since it was said with a "no offense" I shouldn't get butthurt.

"Yeah, well, that's what being stuck in hospitals after having a panic attack does to you," I said cheekily.

The rain started to pick up and I asked her through clenched teeth if she wanted to come into the house. She obliged, thanking me as I held open both the storm and front door for her. She took off her canary yellow coat and placed it on the coat rack. What a bright ass color for such a dull town.

We sat down, me on the couch and her on the recliner. I suddenly remembered the roses in my hands and tentatively brought them close to my face. Time to smell the roses. Literally.

Alice laughed yet again and this time I couldn't stop the scowl. She kept cackling like the witch she was and I continued to glower like the downer I was.

"I didn't dump anthrax all over it, Isabella."

I hated how she said my name so condescendingly. I hated how she was in my house. I hated how she gave me pretty flowers. I hated how she knew my suspicion of said flowers. I just down right hated this girl sitting a few feet from me.

Fuck, where was my mom when I really needed her. She was always around to annoy me, but never there to help. Such a great mom.

The roses were getting heavier in my hands with each second so I decided to do something with myself and put them in a vase. Staring at Alice wasn't exactly appealing, but she wouldn't talk and I sure as hell wasn't going to speak first.

"Look, Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were going to spaz out just cause I said a couple things yesterday. I give you shit all the time. I mean, who knew you were going to-"

"Wait. You think I had a panic attack because of you?" I questioned, thoroughly interrupting her.

Alice slowly nodded as if it was obvious that she was the cause for every bad thing that happened in my life. Then again, she probably was. She most likely wrote that hate note, the two-faced bitch. That thought made me more suspicious of her real motives.

"Did you write the note?" I asked quickly, my words fumbling together and not making much sense.

Her shaped eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head from side to side, a clueless expression plastered onto her face. Bitch was an actress, too.

"What note?" she curiously said.

I narrowed my eyes at her, alarms going off in my brain. Red alert, red alert. There's a fucking lying piece of crap in the middle of my living room. I repeat, a lying piece of crap in my living room. Help me. Where was Rose? And where the hell was my mom? I was sending out SOS telepathically and I was getting no response.

"Just a note." I replied cryptically.

"Okay…" she said, trailing off.

"Bella-"

"Why-"

We both talked at the same time and I motioned for her to go first. She did, the attention whore.

"Bella, I never meant to be mean to you. I was just…" I heard her clearly, but lost her towards the end. Either she mumbled or I have selective hearing. I was betting she mumbled.

"Huh?" Fuck, I sounded stupid.

She huffed in frustration before saying the last word slightly louder. I still couldn't hear her.

"What?" I inquired, getting annoyed already.

"Jealous!" she cried while throwing her head in her hands.

I stared at her in bewilderment. She was jealous of what? My car? Cause if she was, I could totally understand. My baby was awesome, even if it was a borderline gas guzzler. Scratching my head stupidly, I looked around the room. If I thought this was weird before then damn, this is that once in a millennium type of deal.

Alice suddenly jumped up and grabbed her coat, but not before telling me, "Just watch out with who you hang out with." She pretty much sprinted out of my house afterwards.

What the fuck did that mean? I shrugged cause the whole situation was causing mayhem in my brain. I decided to call Rosalie because I was bored and depressed and just straight out confused.

I brought the phone to my ear and was shocked to hear the robotic voice telling me to leave a message. I stammered and tripped over words before asking Rose to call me. I texted her, more than once, but got no reply. My sadness was quickly transforming into a deep rage.

All those times she needed my help, I was there without any hesitation, but now that I needed it so badly, she wasn't here. And neither was Emmett. What happened to, "I always got your back Bells"? Just a broken promise, I guess. What great friends. I tried to ignore that ache in my chest, but Alice's words rushed back to me, along with the note.

Watch out who you hang out with…

Rosalie pities you…

I shook my head from the thoughts and walked to my room. I fell on the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Six days passed and Rose was still nowhere to be seen. I tried calling Emmett, but his phone was off. I was crying more and more these days and I got into the bad habit of reading the note daily. I was willingly setting myself up for a continuous pain. Call me masochistic.

I had all but lost my appetite at this point. Ever since my weight gain became local broadcast news, I have began to try avoiding food. Mom and dad were worried about me, but thankfully didn't say anything. They didn't exactly understand just why I asked them to not allow anybody to visit. I didn't tell them I was pissed at my supposed "best friend". My best friend that was nowhere in sight.

My mom told me that Rose did visit me at the hospital, but for like ten minutes before splitting. Yeah, I didn't take that too lightly. As for Emmett, I couldn't say I was pissed at him. It wasn't his fault that his girlfriend wasn't talking to me.

My dad called the school and I was said to return whenever I felt up to it. That was three days ago. I still didn't feel ready. People already heard about my little episode and were calling me all types of names. None of them knew about the fucked up note. It still stirred ugly feelings within my gut.

I was being a hermit and I was getting fed up with the never-ending pounding on the front door. Most of the times it was Emmett, but Mom said it was Rosalie trying to drag me out with the living. Whatever. Fuck her. She only cared once my "sick leave" officially hit the sixth day mark. Try and try as I might, Alice's words couldn't stop replaying in my mind. Stupid midget purposefully saying bullshit that would haunt me.

Something else that was haunting me-and quickly becoming annoying-was the constant sound of the landline being rung up every minute of every hour. It was Rosalie, of course, asking for me, but instead of answering her calls, I took a picture of the note and sent it to her. The only word I sent was 'happy'.

I had finally took a shower to wash off the filth that has been accumulating for six days. It was disgusting how I managed to stay away from the shower for that long of a time. Once I was finished washing up, I changed into one of my dad's flannels and a pair of ratty sweats. I walked back to my room and fell onto my bed, not even bothering with drying my wet, tangled hair.

Curling under the blankets, I fell asleep to the pitter-patter outside.

Apparently sleep didn't exist in my house because I was soon awoken by a bang. I was about to curse my mother for being too loud, when I caught side of long blonde hair.

Rosalie.

She was standing at my door, obvious disappointment gleaming in her eyes. I couldn't stomach looking at her. "B, how are you?" I didn't answer her. I couldn't. I wanted to scream and yell about how I felt like a used doll thrown aside. I wanted to tell her about the note. But I couldn't and I didn't plan on it. I stared at the wall behind her, fascinated by all the pictures I took over the years. They were posted pretty on my wall. Pictures of when I wasn't such a disgrace. When I wasn't given vicious notes over the weekend.

"Fuck, Bella! They told me I shouldn't have come over, but this shit has got to stop. You've been in bed for a week already! Come on and get up. We have to do something..." She kept on speaking, but I blocked her out.

I didn't want to hear what Rose had to say. I wanted her to leave. She didn't really want to talk to me anyway. She was only talking to me cause she felt sorry for me. I was a walking, talking pity party.

My shoulders were suddenly being shaken and I instantly hissed and slapped the hands away from me. I glared up at Rose before taking a deep breath to stop myself from telling her to fuck off. She was pushing my buttons and I seriously felt like throwing my fist at her face. I didn't want her here. I didn't want anybody here.

"Get out, Rose," I whispered harshly.

Her eyes widened and if I wasn't so fucking miserable I would've laughed. She scrambled off my bed, picked up her bag and stood at the door. She bit her lip silently. I looked away from her, not wanting to see that hurt look in her eyes. I was hurt too, but nobody bothered to ask what was wrong with me.

"I'm here, B, whenever you need me."

"Fucking A, Rosalie! You don't know what it's like to have people behind your back wishing that you were dead! You don't know what it's like to never be able to meet your own mother's expectations! You don't know what I'm feeling right now!" I seethed.

Rosalie's expression stopped me from ranting any further. My words must have been like a slap to the face, because she appeared to be shocked and hurt. Guilt washed over me and I tried to stutter an apology, but nothing came out. She shook her head, slightly turning the door knob.

"Y'know, Bella. I have always been there for you. I can't believe you're going to turn your back on me because of a note that some asshole wrote. Hope you feel better." Her voice was shaky and I caught a glimpse of a tear running down her cheek.

And just like that my best friend was out of my life.

There ya go. A new chapter. I hoped you liked it. I mean, Alice apologizing? That's fucking weird. And what's up with Rose? Okay, tell me what you think. Love it, loathe it; I wanna know. Until next time.

~geek