It has been eight months now since… He… Has decided to leave…
I can't even say his name without such pain being brought to me. I thought I could be without him, but the truth is that my love for him is so strong that him being away is slowly killing me…
Since he's been gone, some bad things have happened.
Charlie, who I once thought of as a man who would never die, was now buried in the town graveyard.
I always knew that being a cop would put him in a lot of danger, even for such an ordinary town…
The rain was coming down in sheets,
Almost like a fog covering my world.
Charlie was out as usual, even though it had been well past his time to come home. Ever since Edward left, he had been staying out longer and longer. I was slowly pushing him away, and I could feel that.
I was just about to let a restless sleep wash over my body when I heard the phone.
Groggily, I got up and I answered with the same uncaring tone I'd had ever since he left…
"Hello?" was my apathetic answer to whoever was on the line.
The other person was obviously more feeling than I was, for she was panting, and I could tell that tears were choking her voice.
"Isabella Swan?" she asked me quietly, confirming that I was the one who had answered the phone.
"Yes, it is." I of course didn't even bother to think that this person was someone I had never met, and was someone bearing the second worse news I had ever heard.
"Your father, Charlie, was killed tonight. He was shot in his car, after just picking up a local robber. I'm very sorry." She said remorsefully.
I couldn't even think… I quietly hung up the phone and hoped that she wouldn't call back.
I could feel my breathing get heavier and heavier, and I knew that this pain was so unreal… This pain was probably ten times worse due to my other loss… He was gone?
I simply couldn't register it… I simply couldn't…
I had lost everyone, and cared for no one.
Slowly I began to seek pain relieving methods. Drugs and alcohol were my fall back option.
As much as I wanted to kill myself, it just wasn't something that I could ever do.
I couldn't let that be so final.
Cutting myself, however, was something that I did quite often.
Edward's name appeared several times on my skin, often followed by several deeper and thicker cuts.
Self-mutilation was very common for me now. And I did it frequently.
I can remember how it happened at first…
A dark fog was creeping over my mind… It felt almost painful…
But I loved it.
I let myself fall deeper into that abyss… Just so I could feel my own pain suffocating me.
I blacked out at one point, and I remember opening up an old pocket knife.
I slid it easily across my wrists, letting my blood spill like a waterfall. All I could concentrate on was the blood… Was making myself feel pain.
It felt… Better, to say the very least.
All I could concentrate on was that, and Edward never crossed my mind during it.
Thank god for that discovery…
The only problem was after the cutting. My pain was unbearable, and it made it even harder for my thought on Edward to stop.
That's when the drugs came in…
Much like cutting, it soon became a regular pain killer for me. I couldn't feel or think when it was in my possession, and that made me so numb…
My first real high was dizzying, but I had so much adrenaline!
I had so many emotions, happy, sad, angry, remorse…
Then… Nothing.
I was numb, and it felt amazing!
So why should any of this matter now? I'm going to be a lone for the rest of my life anyways…