A/N: Finally a Chapter 2. Sorry it's taken so long. Sorry it's short. I really do have no excuses, I just couldn't be bothered. Promise the next one will be more interesting, longer and updated faster.

Here goes.

Chapter 2-

A maid came in and laid out a pillow on my bed, I placed my head on top of it and started to dream.

I dreamed about Victoria, burning in my own fiery pit of hell. I dreamed her screams, as I laughed manically at her as I watched.

I woke up as one of the nurses shook me awake. Apparently I had been laughing in my sleep, and other inmates were getting worried as it was so loud you could hear it through the thick walls. Screw them, I thought, not caring one iota about anyone else but Victoria.

Then it suddenly came to me, a flash of inspiration from what Esme had said yesterday.

'We disposed of her, Bella,' she had said. It hadn't clicked until now what she had meant.

'YES!' I screamed punching the air. She's dead! She's never going to come after me! I don't know why, and I don't know how, but after that piece of information was clear, everything seemed to right itself in my head. I realised I had to get out of here. I wanted to see Charlie, Renee, Angela, and most of all, I wanted to get on with my life. The life I could have had before it was interrupted that one biology class.

I wanted to get my school work done, although I was resigned to the fact I would probably have to repeat the last school year, or semester anyway. I wasn't quite sure how long I had been clinging to the numbness. It seemed like a stupid thing to do, from where I was standing. I knew why, I was standing behind my numb barrier, on some form of platform of serenity. My platform made me forget, and the barrier wouldn't let me see through it to that sea of pain, for which I was eternally grateful.

'Bella Swan,' said a voice. I turned my head towards the sound.

'Come in, please,' I requested of it, knowing exactly who it was.

'I'm Mr Michaels, Bella.'

'You do tell me every time you visit, sir,' I replied. I put on a composed face with a hint of pleasure; well what I hoped looked like pleasure and not some maniac looking like she's ready to kill her psychiatrist, which is probably what I would describe myself as. Mr Michaels was the singularly most annoying person on the face of the earth. And I get to see him daily, what an amusing life I lead.

'You're looking much, much better, Bella. I must say, I'm not surprised, getting that visit yesterday. What was her name? Mary Rose? That's the one.' He started rambling, and I tuned out. Mary Rose? I thought. So Esme didn't even use her read name. I don't know why I was bothered about that, but I was.

'Bella?' I realised he'd just asked a question, and I was probably looking at him blankly.

'Sorry, Mike. What did you say?' Yeah, that's his name. Mike Michaels. As if it wasn't the most idiotic name ever, but it reminded me of Mike Newton. A stupid, witless boy in my year back at school.

'I asked if you thought you were better, Bella,' he said calmly.

'Oh definitely. I feel great, seriously. It's like this weight had been lifted off my shoulders finally, and it feels awesome,' I finished, a little breathless. I had always been rubbish at lying, so I thought I should stick to the truth as much as was possible.

'Oh Bella! That's such great news. Carry on like this, and I'm sure we'll be able to let you have trips outside the centre. PIW is such a great place for rehabilitation. I just know you're going to be one of the people who do well in here.'

'Mr Michaels, I want to leave here. I think it will be good for me. I need to get my life back on track, already I'm probably going to have to repeat a year of school, and I was so close to graduating. Please,' I begged, 'I need to go home to Charlie.'

'Well, Bella. I'm sure Charlie could see you in here, as soon as he hears about how well you're doing.'

'He won't come, and you know it,' I said angrily. I was common knowledge he wouldn't, he couldn't bear it. Everyone knew it. Even those so far gone they didn't know their own names.

'Very well, Isabella. I'll see what I can do.' And with that he got up and walked out. No parting words, no farewell, not 'get better soon'—nothing. He was the worst psychiatrist ever. With that, I rolled over and went to sleep again.

I awoke the next morning after the first good night sleep in,—well, as long as I can remember. I sat up in the hard bed, and looked around. I soon found that the knocking on the door was what had wakened me. It was strange, no one usually waited for me to say enter, or open the door. Maybe it was a new nurse, or a different psychiatrist. I stood up, and walked across the small room to open the unusually unlocked door, courtesy of Mike Michaels I was now able to explore the compound and visit other patients with the same ability.

The door creaked open as usual, and I almost jumped out my skin.

'Carlisle!' I screamed.