All italicized text is from the chapter Enema (best chapter name ever!). First person to guess that Bella had changed to vamp was Mademise Morte, DazzledbyJake got the suicide part first. foreverandnevr got that Tacoma was all in her head, but not Southlake. DestinyNoel12 Got the breathing tube down the throat. Bonsai76 spelled her own pen name. Fuck, I'd love to name everyone because the reviews from this chapter blew me away. I fucking love you guys. Um, no one mentioned poor Flanagan. Where was she?

All reviews were read and re-read on my iPad while I was on vacation with the mister and my little boy. I apologize if I haven't replied, FFn and Mac handhelds do not play nice. Thanks to jkane180 for the beta. wordslinger for being a motherfucking genius and Katinki for WC'ing me into the end of this chapter tonight.

That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
O keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!

-TS Eliot, The Wateland

I was dead. I had died sometime over the course of the morning, but he couldn't leave well enough alone.

Now there was only pain; the anguish of knowing what I had kept buried so deep. The anguish of being coaxed from the grave, forced to wake up inside of a corpse. My corpse.

"Open your eyes, love."

Somehow I was on the ceiling, my legs hooked on the shower curtain rod, while my hands gripped the top of the tub surround.

"Look at me, Bella."

My lids parted. Water clung to my lashes, and I could see rainbows in every droplet. Actually, I could count my eyelashes. They were like snowflakes: no two were the same.

"Say something, please?"

My back shot up; the downy peach fuzz of my skin spiked along my spine, urging every dead nerve ending in my body into acute attention. I was on edge but had no somatic cues to lend credence to my panic. Instead of blood rushing through my body, I felt a dull current of energy, a substance I could not name.

"Blood," I chirped. The word wasn't monosyllabic at all. It was rich and long and onomatopoeiadic. It sounded like a vessel sluicing through a vein. The very sound of the word was poetry. I wanted it. Nothing else mattered but the word.

"Yes, love. I have all the blood you need. Come down from the ceiling."

His hands were raised in surrender. He approached me timidly, crouched and slightly hunched, not like he was afraid of scaring me off. No, he was afraid of me! His movements were defensive.

"How?" I asked. I didn't know how to move in this body. My limbs were completely unpredictable.

"Do you trust me?"

I actually snorted.

"Just let go. Your reflexes will do the rest. Trust me, Bella, it is quite impossible for you to hurt yourself."

I released my grip on the rod and felt myself fall, landing in a crouch on the vanity. "Now what?" I whispered, or at least tried to, but forcing air over my larynx was such a foreign feeling. The air was cold, having not been warmed by my vampire body. It was also unchanged, the same compound of molecules exiting my lungs as it was entering my lungs. I wanted to shudder at the thought that I was no longer organic, but I wasn't sure how to shudder.

"Carry me?" I pleaded.

"You can walk. I swear, just think about walking and you'll do fine."

"I can't…I'm frightened."

"There's blood in the fridge. You just need to make it to the kitchen."

"Shut the fuck up and carry me!" I screamed, shattering the mirror. The glass splintered into fragments, and I covered my face before the shards even left the frame. When a particularly jagged piece ricocheted off my arm, it exploded into dust from the impact.

That's when a new thought appeared in the organ formerly known as my brain: I was really fucking indestructible. I felt a cold smile spread across my face.

"You're a coward and a pansy."

"I'm so sorry, Bella. You're going to be alright; it just takes practice."

I wasn't even sure who he was. The Edward I loved in my memories, the Edward I fucked and kissed and made love to was not real. He never came back at all.

Everything else was in ruins, but finally, my memory was intact.

-({})-

The memory I had only half uncovered with Carlisle came fast and furious. The woods: where I had planned to confront Alice, to beg her to turn me into a vampire so I would be worthy of Edward's love...

"Alice?" Damn, my new phone was so complicated. "Please? Meet me at the turn-off for Andersonville of the one-oh-one...or, at least call me when you get this message." My decision was sudden. I wasn't sure if she would foresee my request. Also, I hoped to God that Edward wasn't in earshot when she did.

It was all too awful. Every time Edward kissed me, after the incident with James, it was as if he was kissing me goodbye. There was a desperation in me to hold on to him, to say the right things, to anticipate his every need, and to be good enough for him to keep me. But I wasn't good enough. Until we were equals, I would never been good enough.

This snivelling asshole that I had become was not me at all. I hated her. She was weak and clumsy and ugly. I didn't want to be Isabella Swan any longer.

"Alice," I murmured, feeling ridiculous. "You have to listen to me. He won't do it...only you can. Please? I trust you, Alice. I trust you to change me..."

It had occurred to me that since the decision had been made by me, Alice could probably follow my thoughts. I didn't even need the phone at all.

Suddenly, the ground tripped away from me, and I fell forward onto my stomach. "Crap," I muttered, grateful that the only creature to witness my spastic clumsiness was a goose.

"Are you hurt?"

"Jasper?" My voice was incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

"I got your message," he explained. I rolled over onto my back and saw him standing several paces away from me holding Alice's phone. "She's hunting with Edward. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Sorry, I didn't mean for you to have to come out here. I needed Alice." Crap, if she was with Edward than he probably had figured out what I was up to.

"Bella..."

"Do you think Alice could block her thoughts from Edward? I mean, if she really, really wanted to?"

Jasper's eyes were turning onyx. It was very strange. "Bella..." He moved toward me like a stalking cat, twitching with excitement.

"Jasper?" A line of blood tricked down my leg.

"You've skinned your knee."

"S-Sorry," I stuttered.

"I can't help myself, Bella. I want you. I have to have you...I'm sorry."

"Okay, Jasper, but could you not kill me all the way dead?"

The bite, it was worse than I remembered because pain is impossible to recall accurately. The body protects itself from the remembering; a defence mechanism so the mind will not suffer in the recollection.

Trying to remember pain was like trying to remember love.

Vampires have perfect memories.

I had screamed, over and over again. He held me down and covered my mouth with his hand. He swore several times, wrenching his face away from my shoulder. My pain was his pain. My terror was his terror, but still, it wasn't enough to quell the violent thirst my flowing blood inspired in him. I didn't understand at the time. He was supposed to be my brother. How could he kill me so easily?

I didn't understand then, but I certainly understood now. I'd kill my own father for a taste.

Blood. The word, so much like music. I knew what it would smell like, even though my vampire senses had yet to experience it. The sweet, the hot and the wet; it was the only thing in the natural world that would quench the hideous burn. The burn wasn't just in my throat, it was everywhere in my body. The fire never ended after the transformation. The pain was no longer present, but the terrible fire still remained.

"I'm sorry," Jasper had sobbed against my throat. "I'm stopping," he said roughly but still sucked at my torn flesh.

"You're not," I whimpered like a child. And I was a child. Desperately, I wanted my mother. I called for her over and over again. Mommy...make it stop; Mommy, help me...I didn't know it at the time, but vampires have perfect memories, even of things they didn't consciously acknowledge in their human life.

"I am," he had gasped. "I'm pulling the venom from you, Bella. I'm so sorry. It'll hurt for a while longer."

I tried, really I did. I tried to tell him no, to let the venom spread and let me change.

I hadn't taken into consideration the pain.

Words evaded me.

-({})-

"It still burns, Edward," I whimpered, tossing another empty bag of donor blood onto Charlie's kitchen floor. "Why won't the burning stop?"

"It will," he soothed. "You'll adjust. Your senses are overpowering...it takes time."

"Knock me out," I pleaded.

The look he gave me tore me in two.

"You know I can't," he choked and walked toward the fridge. He removed a tray of ice from the freezer and returned to my side, ghosting the entire tray over my throat. "Where does it burn the worst?"

"Inside my head."

The ice didn't soothe me, but it gave Edward a modicum of hope that he still had control over the situation. He held me and rubbed me down for days, it seemed. Time felt different to me now, slower and quicker all at once.

When the night gave way to dawn, Edward announced that it was time for us to leave. I followed. I had no choice.

"I'm...surprised," I said finally, having not spoken once throughout the night that I was aware of. My feet were so light against the ground that walking felt like flying. My characteristic heavy and clumsy gait had transformed entirely.

"About what, love?" Edward's hand was gentle as he guided me towards the forest path opposite of my father's house.

"All of it...this doesn't feel right to me. I feel...even more lost than I was in Tacoma."

"Bella." Edward wrapped his arms around me and kissed the shell of my ear. "You were never in Tacoma."

"I know."

"You came home; Charlie took you home when you were discharged in Toronto." He bowed his head and pressed his forehead against mine. "I heard your dreams while you were changing...I'm so sorry. It was terrible, what you imagined you went through."

"It wasn't all bad, Edward." I smiled and allowed my gaze to fall to the zipper of Edward's pants. Somehow, Flanagan would be forever embedded in my psyche. She wanted to grab his cock. She was me.

"I know," Edward smiled, and pressed his mouth against mine. "Isabella," he whispered. "Get naked and bend over. I'm going to fuck you, love. I'm going to do all of the things you imagined we did while you were changing." He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his dick. Unlike dream Edward, real Edward hardened under my touch.

"Please," I whimpered.

"Show me your pussy, Bella."

Author's Note: No, this isn't the last chapter. Two more until the end. I've started a new fic called Stigmata Tomato that you might like. Also, I've posted a really fucked up outtake of BBS as a separate story. This is the FGB piece that mac214 made me write. I can honestly say it's the most fucked up fic I've ever written.

Fic Rec: Daniel Gale - Cumming to America. If you haven't read it, you simply must!

My pockets are not vibrating right now and I'm sad. One reviewer will be humped by me on Wednesday this week on the Twific Pimps blog. There's a link on my profile. Author's, make sure to hump you readers. They want it bad.

Shit and fuck and stuff.