Lots of you have been asking, "When do we meet Edward?" Well, here you go—enjoy!

Chapter 4

A flurry of colors fluttered around in my mind and faces too. But mostly one face. Miss Garratt's face kept coming up, for some odd reason.

Why? What was so important about her face again?

Something told me that there was a great deal of significance in her face, but I couldn't remember. She was my teacher…but since when was that important? My head pounded as if it had its own painful, echoing heartbeat.

I kept on trying to force my eyes open, but I was paralyzed. Which way was up? I couldn't remember that either. The darkness was endless; I looked around for any indication of where I might be. I had a feeling I wasn't in a bed. What could possibly be going on? My dreams weren't usually this disorienting.

I would open my eyes for second, and then I felt nothing but pain. I forced myself to breathe despite the wet pain in my throat. The smell of blood—my own blood—invaded my nose and made its home there. But past the wall of blood, there was another smell. I couldn't put my finger on what it was; it was much too unfamiliar.

Abruptly there was noise or maybe my ears decided to start picking up noise again, a voice keeping me from being completely engulfed in the abyss. It gave me the knowledge that there was something beyond here. I tried following the voice, seeking a way out. The worst part, the voice was not a happy one; telling me there were worse things than this place.

"…What am I going to do…?" Was what I caught. Wait, what are they talking about? Could they be talking about me? I felt my hair being brushed aside by something with no temperature, the touch was light and my hair was being pushed behind my ear. I wanted to swat it away.

After awhile I felt my body being lifted up, and my head pounded like a powerful, angry thunderstorm that was driving its way through me. I wanted to beg whatever it was that was carrying me to stop, and set me back down. The pain was so intense, with every little jar of movement the pounding in my head spiked.

I wanted to scream, yet I was too tired to move, my arms felt like lead. Soon a particularly large jar sent my eyes fluttering open in surprise, a scream bubbled up to my lips— but the pain sent me into complete and utter unconsciousness again.

Later, I found myself reduced to begging once more. Please… don't… I don't want to wake up…

My head felt like it had been run over by a horse, and then smashed against a rock a dozen times. I wanted to die right there; not caring where I was or how I got there or why I couldn't remember. The constant thumping of my head was sending me into hysterics.

Slowly feeling started to come back, first in my fingertips, then sensitivity steadily made its way back to everywhere else. I felt a blanket over me, wool; I moved my hands about an inch. It was a start. But… where was I? I willed my eyes open, the light pierced through my lids, causing me to shriek. I shut them tightly and wished for the darkness.

Okay, I thought humorlessly, you got your sick joke, now leave me be.

"You're awake?" A voice asked softly, from right next to me; I froze suspiciously. It was too deep… somewhat off…

Where was I?

"Hm?" Was all I could say, pathetically trying to sit up. I felt a hand come down lightly on my shoulder, willing me back down.

"Don't push yourself." Who was this stranger? My senses were coming back, I sat up too fast. Vertigo hit me hard.

"Ow…" I groaned while putting my hand to my head. I felt arms wrap around my shoulders to steady me, and I felt a weird sort of caring warmth run through me. It was strange, so foreign; it reminded me of an electrical current. Usually if I fell or something, Mother would glare at me for embarrassing her and Alice would laugh at my own embarrassment.

I turned around expecting to thank the nice woman who helped me—but no way was that a lady. Even through my still blurred eyes, I could see that.

I turned to see…a man…yes I was sure. His bronze hair was wild, and he was muscular (just as the textbooks had described); his piercing green eyes held a sort of guarded worry.

But my physical evaluation ended right there, for overwhelming shock and terrible, gut-wrenching terror took over everything else.

A terrible scream built up in my throat, but all that came out were hollow shrieks; I kicked wildly out of the blanket, feeling my heart beat and thrash against my rib cage. I shut my eyes and threw the blanket at him, trying to put something—anything, between us, and to get myself away.

Realization replaced the worry in his eyes, as I started to scream at the top of my lungs; he leaned forward after me. Pure horror wadded up in my stomach, as my muscles readied to fight him off. But something close to logic told me that I wouldn't be able to do any fighting in my condition.

His hand clamped down on my mouth, I ended up screaming into his palm. I thrashed pitifully, but my wild kicks were only dodged easily by him; I'd never felt so feeble.

I was with a man, in an unfamiliar place. This was bad, very, very bad…. awful even. How could this happen? This had never happened to anyone. It was impossible to cross the barrier of The Wall. How did I get here? How could I possibly be here? It couldn't be true. I had to be dreaming. This had to be a horrible nightmare; there was no other rational explanation.

"This isn't happening to me!" I shouted more to myself, his hand still covering my mouth, my voice cracking and breaking. I sounded like a dying animal when I wailed. He looked like he was concentrating very hard when he was trying to stifle my cries.

Oh what Alice would say, she'd give me an ultimatum so big, I'd have to be institutionalized! In fact, I was sure I had to be institutionalized now. Alice was right, I had gotten crazy enough to the point of hallucinations.

"Shhh!" He whispered vehemently, looking over his shoulder, silencing me, tears pouring out of my eyes. I began to sob into his hand. I gasped in as much air as I could with his hand covering my mouth.

"Get away from me!" I yelled in a high pitched voice that resembled my mothers', only to have it come out as muffled by his hand, once again.

"Do you want to be abducted or something?" He whispered quickly, his eyes boring into mine. My eyebrows knit together in confusion; abducted? Isn't that what he'd already done?

"Then how do you explain how I got here?" I spat hoarsely. I cleared my throat and covered my throat with my hand; my ladylike impulses annoyed me to no end at times. He removed his hand, but kept it hovering in the air in case I decided to try shout again.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." He answered in the same tone as I; a new breed of annoyance washed through me toward his tone. Burning curiosity in his eyes, he leaned in closer to me. I gasped and scooted back against the wall.

"Get away from me." I murmured in a low voice, trying to be threatening.

I attempted to gather anything about what happened before I came here, and came up empty. I remembered, reading in Miss Newton's class then…nothing. My breathing came in fast breaths and my hands started to shake—that seemed familiar as well.

Calm down. A voice told me in my head, and I jumped from shock. It wasn't this man's voice; I looked around, but we were alone. That was not my conscience either; was I getting a hypothetical audience to my insanity?

"I found you by The Wall, unconscious and bleeding, I wrapped your wound." He pointed with his head to my own, ignoring my mental breakdown. I raised my fingers to rub the soft fabric of gauze wrapping around my head. "I've just been itching to find out your story; you were out of it for quite awhile." He joked at the last part; I scowled as his indisputable ease.

This was so strange, having a man sit there, right in front of me, explaining to me something I can't remember happening. And yet, here was: the gauze, the wet dampness from my blood. I continued to shake; I took the blanket back in my hands and covered myself in it, and used it as an imaginary salvation.

"Hmm." I hummed, not fully believing him. "Then take me back." I ordered him. The resolve in his face faltered.

"Can't." He said, his head tilting to the side. "It's being guarded right now."

Guarded. Naturally. "By who?"

"The Volturi's guards—who else? Or do they not have The Volturi on your side?" He asked only half kidding.

"Yes. We do." I replied frigidly.

I bought my knees to my chest took my surroundings with a wary eye. This was a dump of a home, not a full house by any means; like on my side. However, it was filled with little trinkets collected over time to make it a home. It was quaint in its own way, but I still preferred cottages.

I was here. Really here. On the other side, something I'd only dreamt of in my wildest fantasies. Something I never thought possible. With a man, nonetheless. I tried to wrap my mind around it, that this was no illusion. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing as long as I remained unharmed.

He seemed taken aback, a little flustered; I wondered why.

Was it because…well this must be the first time he's met a woman before. He must be completely awed by me; our situations were just the same—well not really. I had a bit more weight on my side.

"What's your name?" I asked almost inaudibly, never fully letting my guard down.

"Edward, Edward Cullen." A sly smile broke out over his face. "I would say it was nice to meet you—but I'm still unsure on that one." Fire boiled in my veins; how dare he?

He hesitated for a second before holding his hand out in front of me. The fire was replaced with confusion; I could only look at it dumbly. What was I supposed to do with it?

"Um…" Before, I had practiced what I'd say to a man if I ever met one, but my mind was blank. It was as if all of the dialogue I had made up just didn't suffice for this situation; well I was sure that was it. This was no fairy tale.

"You're supposed to shake it." He enlightened, mockery glowing in his eyes.

"Why?" I asked, completely dumbfounded, with just a hint of irritation.

"It's just a way of greeting someone." He said slowly, taking his hand away.

"My name is…" I contemplated, telling him my name was Elizabeth, and there was no reason why not, for I always went by that. A thought popped into my mind; this Dean didn't know me. I could be whomever I wanted. "My name is…Bella." I finished with a proud smile, giving myself an internal pat on the back. He seemed to take notice.

"Okay," He took note of my wide grin with a cocked an eyebrow. "What, do you want a prize or something?" My smile turned down, but he took it a step further. "Yay, she got her name right!" He teased incessantly.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, feeling a permanent scowl form on my lips.

"What's wrong with you?" He replied with a smile.

"Nothing!" I spat back, trying to bring out something in him; anger, maybe? He just sat there casually.

"That's a sign of arrogance." He said calmly. I wadded the blanket in my fists, biting onto it, I screamed in fury. I took a few breathes and continued.

"Alright, let's change the subject for a second—"

"You started it." He grumbled innocently; I groaned and closed my eyes.

"Fine, how about we start with—"

"A 'thank you'?" He interjected yet again.

"Excuse me?" I laughed. He couldn't be serious!

"Yes. I could have easily left you, bleeding to death, but I brought you here, and I'm making it clear that I have no mal intentions. If I just received a 'thank you' I could die happily."His was voice dripping with venom.

This 'Edward' was getting on my nerves really fast. Nobody mentioned men could be so…so…completely infuriating! Unfortunately, he had a point.

"Thanks." I mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

"No problem, Bella." He chuckled to himself, as if he were sharing a private joke with himself. I always wondered what my name would sound like coming from a man; it was the strangest pitch of bass.

"Do I amuse you?" I intervened.

"Actually, yes." He laughed, much to my embarrassment. "You're funny."

My cheeks grew warm. "I am?"

"Yeah." He took another long look at me. "I'm not going to bite you, you know, you don't have to be scared." He abruptly covered his caring face with a casual mask. "Then again, it's your choice." I just nodded; he caught it in his peripheral vision, and his cheek rose in a smirk.

I blushed again, embarrassed. I supposed if he wanted to do something, he would have already. He didn't seem like he was going to hurt me, his eyes were deep and showed all that he meant. I found no falseness in their depth. Such a strange thing. So far, I wasn't sure if the school was right, or wrong about men.

His eyes unexpectedly became serious as he brought his hand to my head; I squinted my eyes in surprise. To my relief, his touch was light as he felt the gauze that was there.

"We've got to change this out; is that alright?" He asked.

I nearly said no, but school always stressed you had to keep a wound clean at all costs, so I kept my mouth shut. "Will it hurt?" I whispered after a long minute of pretending to contemplate. He quirked an eyebrow, humor leaking back onto his manner.

"Only a little." He reached from a bag behind him, and pulled out a label-less bottle and a ball of gauze, setting them down at his side before bringing both his hands up to my head. He took on a very serious look on his face while he got supplies out of the mysterious black bag.

I wanted to pull back out of reflex; I didn't like being touched in general, let alone by him. He then steadily started unwrapping the gauze. As the pressure was relieved, I relaxed, but it a throbbing pain reverberated more freely than before, now that it was uncontained. I let out a groan, pushing back the urge to back away from his touch.

As he started to unwrap some of it that closer to my head, the occasional red dots, turned into deep red splatters on the cloth. I cringed, having no idea I was so injured.

"How's this feel?" He gently pressed two fingers to the side of my head, I clenched my teeth, bracing for pain.

"Fine." I answered nonchalantly when none came. He looked puzzled before he moved his fingers a little closer to the wound and let them hover there.

"How about this?" As his fingers came down on the core of the wound, (it was probably a light touch, but it felt like he picked up a knife and stabbed through it) electric shocks of pure agony went vibrating through my head.

"Gah!" I inhaled sharply, giving into temptation and slapping his hand away viciously.

He didn't look surprised or frazzled by my reaction. "Okay…" He pulled out a pad of paper, pretending to write on it. "'Don't do that again' got it." Continuing to write on the paper, trying to lighten the now lead heavy mood. I had the urge to crack a smile.

"Alright Bella," My name still felt different coming from him; he pressed his thumbs to my temples. "Does this hurt?" He pressed lightly, a dull aching echoed through my head, but not as intense as the last. The way he was handling this made me feel a little better, as if he were a professional, like he did this every day.

"A little…" I admitted unwillingly.

"Can you remember anything about how you got here?" He questioned, ghosting my temples with his thumbs, barely touching them.

"Um…" I tried pushing for my memory, but it was as if a lock on them. I shoved and pushed to get past it, however it only gave me a bigger headache. "N-no…" I muttered.

I couldn't remember anything. I wake up on the Other Side and I can't remember anything. Perfect.

"Ah I suspected so, close your eyes." I shut them without hesitation; I could sense he put a light over my face. "Yeah, your temples are very battered— a simple case of amnesia."

"Amnesia?" I had known it was coming, but the fact that it was being said out loud sealed my fate.

"I'm sorry." He muttered passively, obviously concerned with examining the wound and not my initial shock.

"How old are you?" I said, eager to focus on something else. He seemed so knowledgeable about my condition; it was unheard of even on my side for someone who looked as young as he to be so advanced in the medical field.

"Seventeen." He answered absently, still observing my head.

"Oh."

"What?" He tore his trained gaze from my head and fixed his eyes on mine.

"You seemed so much older than I am, you know so much about this…stuff" And that was a sample of my enormous vault of superior terminology.

"I help out at the old hospital sometimes." I lingered on that thought for a few moments; a doctor. That was nice, helping sick people. I couldn't ever do that. I'd probably end up killing them all; I didn't have any talent in healing.

Plus, the fact that my very miniscule knowledge of the male anatomy came from school, only heightened my hypothetical patients' danger to their life; something told me even if I had the knowledge, I still wouldn't be able to keep the aura of professionalism. His vast comprehension on the subject made me feel as insignificant as an ant. I decided to dwell on the elephant in the room once more.

"Ugh, this is so frustrating—I can't remember anything!" I exclaimed, remembering that this problem was far worse than any other trivial concerns Edward had orchestrated, and the fate of my made up patients. I grabbed my hair in my fists, in aggravation. It was as if I was dead for the past day, like I hadn't existed at all.

"Hey don't push it," He gently brought my hands away from my hair, making me release my death grip. "Let your memories come back on their own." He ordered; I wrangled in my wild breaths trying to do as he said.

He continued lightly dabbing some of the liquid from the bottle around my wound, leaving a stinging sensation where he left. He began to re-wrap my head after a thorough cleaning. I could only watch as he dexterously and tenderly took care of my wound.

"Thanks." I declared, half way sincere this time; he had gone through so much trouble to care for me for no reason I could see, I believed it was unavoidable. But he still ticked me off.

"As I said before, no problem." He chuckled half-heartedly.

"But why is it no problem?" I pushed; Alice always said I was born, inquisitive.

"It's not like I haven't met a woman before." He stated bluntly.

I gasped bringing my hand to my mouth. "What? But woman aren't allowed to cross, its imposs…ible…" I felt incredibly stupid finishing the sentence.

"Yeah, totally impossible." He said sardonically, while taping the end of the gauze securely to my head.

"But—"

"By the way, I meant my Mom. I did have one before, you know." He smirked smartly; that silenced me into awe.

"Do you have some kind of infinite supply of cynical comments?" I spat only half kidding.

"I like to think of it as wit." His face was stern for a split second before he guffawed again.

I didn't reply, for I was too stubborn. Too bad he was too; he waited for an answer for about two minutes, whilst checking my arms and shoulders for bruising he suspected was there. We both refused to be the first to speak; so I coughed loudly, in an attempt to break his concentration. It worked.

"Are you thirsty?" He asked because of my cough.

I was about to decline, but suddenly, my throat was so dry it was all I could think about. I nodded while pressing my fingers to my bone dry throat. He got up and left the room, I felt my throat with my hand.

Something large and metal was caught in my grasp. I looked down at the heavy heart shaped necklace; I was silenced in awe for a moment, it was so…exquisite. I was marveling at it when I flipped it over and read.

To Bella, my pride and joy, when you are faced with adversity, make sure to put the pieces together. I love you.

Love,

Daddy

Daddy? I had a 'Daddy'? How did this even get around my neck?

I groaned in irritation. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't I remember anything? A strange feeling of déjà vu came with the discovery of this necklace, as if I'd done this all before.

I felt I was going to go crazy when the voice came back.

It will be alright. It reassured me.

But why? How? I asked it, half expecting an answer. And I didn't receive one. That's when I learned that not even the imaginary voices in my head had all the answers.

I know their characters are OOC, but bear with me people, please. As usual, I will update tomorrow. Reviews are, as they always have been and always will be, much appreciated.