Hello, again. I worked as fast as I could to get this chapter up because I know ou all are curious as to what happened in Edward's past. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave me a review at the end!

"How much do you know about me?" I thought about what I might say to answer that question – the truth? It was dark and Edward and I were sitting on my bed – him across from me at the end, stiff and cross-legged, eyeing me suspiciously. Even in the dark his green eyes blazed with a fierceness that was uniquely his. I thought back to earlier that night.

After Alice had come home and we'd had a short talk, she went off to bed, leaving me alone…Well, not for long, since I had a long talk with Edward to look forward to. I cleaned up the kitchen and straightened out the living room – but there was only so much I could do to try and dampen my curiosity and eventually it got the better of me. I was going to be one dead cat, but I didn't care.

Walking up the stairs, not running, I came slowly to the hall and headed for my bedroom. Peering in, I had noticed that he wasn't there yet. Sighing, I got ready for bed. In my pajama bottoms and an old cotton tank top, I'd waited for over an hour. At eleven, I decided to just call it quits and go to sleep – he'd obviously chickened out. As soon as I had turned off the light, however, and pulled the covers up, his velvet voice ghosted across my room.

"I haven't forgotten, you know." Jumping and gasping loudly, I'd snapped my head in his direction to find him leaning awkwardly against my doorframe. As always, he loved the perfect timing entrance. I rolled my eyes before throwing off the covers and motioning for him to come in. He did, and sat in the place where he was now.

"The first day you appeared to me, I went out and asked people about you…I only got a few answers," I admitted, back in the present. Edward nodded curtly, waiting for me to continue.

"And they only told me that you were a loner, you were eighteen when you came here, a doctor, no one ever visited you, and you died when you were 23. And I was wondering about that, actually – how can you possibly have been a doctor when you were so young? You were a doctor at the age of eighteen! People graduate high school at eighteen!" Edward was grinning by the time I finished my rand. His white teeth glinted in the dark and I was strangely reminded of a smiling vampire about to attack its prey.

"Yes, well, I was a very bright boy, Bella," he purred and I rolled my eyes, hiding the fact that my name rolling off his tongue like that turned me on – disturbing.

"Yes, well, you must have been pretty darn smart if you were a doctor that young," I grumbled.

"Oh yes," Edward agreed, still smiling. "I was a regular Doogie Howser. And my parents were so proud." This last part he practically snarled. He was smiling still, but his eyes turned hard and he looked down right murderous. I cowered slightly at that look.

"What – "

"Bella, if I'm going to tell you the story of my life, I need you to promise me that you won't say anything until the end – okay?" His eyes pierced through me and I could only nod numbly.

"Well, then," he continued, his voice deep, his eyes wandering over to the window, "I was a very bright child from the start – my parents recognized that immediately. My dad was a doctor, so he naturally wanted me to follow his footsteps. They were reach, my parents, and they gave me whatever I wanted, spoiled me on excess and money…" Edward scoffed, his eyes darkening to the point of being black pitch. "I never really questioned it. I did as I was told, because that always got me what I wanted in the end. My parents got me the best tutors – that's right, tutors. I never actually went to a real school, except for med school.

"I skipped grades, a bunch of them. I was doing calculus when I was ten and studying for my medical degree when I was fifteen. I was a doctor, working along side my father when I was seventeen. Things were – were great. My life was a masterpiece. I was young, successful, completely and thoroughly spoiled. And I had my dear old mom and dad to thank for it. I was their masterpiece, and proud of it…Until one day.

"It was my eighteenth birthday when my mother got sick. So sick. She had a brain tumor and it was malignant and inoperable. I wanted to help her, do everything I could…but there really was nothing. She died within a month of being diagnosed…

"I thought that things would be okay…but…The thing was, I never really saw my parents for what they truly were until one of them was gone. I never could step back and see what a mess my life was until I saw just how the death of my mother affected my father. And that was just the thing – it didn't affect him. It didn't even phase him! He just went on like life was normal and nothing happened! I was – shocked, horrified, angry! How could my own father care nothing for my mother?!

"My work began to suffer because all I could think about was how ridiculously naïve I had been. I had ignored all the signs of the relationship between my parents. They were like – like robots! They didn't care for each other, heck, they never really loved me! They were just two people with money and a mission. I was their little project. All of my successes, all of my talent – it was just a part of their experiment, their achievement. I was the prize of their life and they loved the fame and fortune that came along with it. That was what they loved.

"I confronted my father and he admitted that he didn't really love my mother – he admitted to everything. Admitted to controlling my life so that he could garner from my success, could brag to all his friends about how smart I was, about all of my achievements. I realized, then, that up to this point, all of my achievements weren't really my own. My life wasn't my own. So I ran away.

"I ran as far as I could go and all I took with me was my savings and my trust fund. My father never felt like setting an age requirement on it because, hell, he never thought I'd disobey him. He thought I was his puppet. Well, I took all that I could. I emptied my bank accounts and I packed up all of the things I cared about and went in search of a new life. I found Forks and it was perfect. I built the house you see now. I spent all of my money on making the perfect sanctuary for myself, a place to hide.

"Then I focused on my music. I never did tell you, but along with my many scholastic achievements I was a premier musician. That was a little hobby my parents allowed me to have for a while before they budged it out of my life. I was good, no, I was excellent, but music was never something my parents saw as necessary in my rise to the top. I gave it up willingly then because I thought they knew best. But here…Here it was different. Music was like a second sanctuary from the life that I was trying to hide from. I bought a piano – the best that money can buy, and I wrote everything that I felt in music.

"That room that you found…It hurt when I found you there because that room is like a part of myself…something dark, beautiful, emotional – I couldn't let you in there because I couldn't let you be a part of that…I keep all of my old life in there, the music of my life before I became free…And then, well, I died before I ever got the chance to resolve things myself…Hell, I didn't see it coming!...But I'm…I'm dealing with it."

There was a long period of silence in which I just let Edward's words, his story, his emotions sink into me…I felt his pain, but I could never understand it completely. It was his and his alone and I could now respect him much better than before. I could begin to see why he was so sheltered, so angry all the time…

"Well, are you going to say anything dang it or are you just going to sit there!" he hissed, his eyes focusing on me again. I shifted uncomfortably under his hard gaze and a traitor tear slipped down my cheek. He caught sight of it immediately and his eyes softened. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"It's okay," I whispered, wiping it away. "I just…I'm sorry too. I – I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed by it all…And deeply sorry that you had to go through that…And glad that now I can understand you better."

Edward smiled slightly, but the look of pain was still in his eyes. "You sure are taking it pretty well, I must admit," he mumbled. I grimaced.

"Just because I'm okay with you doesn't mean I'm okay with your parents…I'm really sorry, Edward – you shouldn't have had to grow up like that…And you never got a chance to live a life you wanted…" I trailed off, thinking about Edward, all alone in this house, trying to change things for himself and then winding up dead…

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me," Edward hissed, but I just looked him in the eye and gave him the sternest look I could.

"I don't feel sorry for you, Masen, I feel angry – I'm angry that you never got the chance to turn things around and I'm angry that your parents put you in that situation. I just wish I could give them a piece of my mind," I grumbled to myself. I heard Edward chuckle and I glanced up at him. Mirth had replaced the pain in his beautiful eyes.

"I'd have liked to see that!" he all but giggled giddily, rolling onto his side. I reached behind me for my pillow and smacked him in the face.

"Hey Swan! Watch it, I'm a ghost remember!"

"Oh, right! And that's supposed to make me feel sorry for you, right? Well, I don't think ghosts usually get smacked by pillows – it's your own fault your solid!" I smacked him again, but this time he grabbed the pillow from me. He yanked it easily from my hands.

"Well, you're the only one who's ever tried, but looks like I'll get my revenge yet!" And he smacked me in the head, sending me flying onto my side. What ensued was, well, a childish fight with pillows. Edward and I whacked each other until we couldn't breath from laughing so hard – it was a miracle that Alice didn't hear us –

"Alright!" I gasped, clutching my side, "You win, you win!" Edward smirked down at me from his end of the bed.

"Of course I do, I always get my man."

"Woman," I mumbled, straightening my hair, which had been severely rumbled from our fight.

"Right, right…woman. And you are surly one of the most womanly women I have come across…" he whispered, almost to himself.

"Oh, and what's that supposed to mean?" I shot at him, my eyes narrowing.

"Oh, well, just that you are so shapely that you could never, ever pass for a man…" I saw his eyes zeroing in on my hips and I shifted uncomfortably…my cheeks flushing and Goosebumps rising across my skin.

"You're such are pig, sometimes," I replied, pulling the covers up over my body. As much as I may have been uncomfortable with his gaze, however, there was a part of me that liked the face that he was checking me out…And I almost wished that we could touch…

"Yeah, yeah, Swan, but I know you like it," he mocked, before standing up. "We start work tomorrow," he added.

"I have to work at the book shop!" I called after him as he made his way out.

"When you get home, then," he amended, shooting me one last grin before disappearing into the shadows.

I huffed and flung myself back onto my pillow, my thoughts circling around Edward's past, Edward's voice, Edward's pain…It was a wonder I ever managed to get some sleep that night.

Playlist:

Angry People – Barenaked Ladies Don't Cry – The Black Ghosts Someday You Will Be Loved – Death Cab For Cutie Are You Receiving Me – Golden Earring A Soldier's Tale – The Good, The Bad, & The Queen

Well, I hope you all enjoyed that. Edward finally spills about his childhood...poor guy. Hopefully my next chapter will be posted soon. Review please! Cheers!