Well, hello (: I hope not many of you are upset at me for not updating. For months I haven't continued the second part to this chapter, and yet I continued receiving reviews. My story is even going to be translated in German! Wow, I owe you all so much. As a late Christmas gift, here's the twenty-ninth chapter. I know Bella and Edward aren't together yet, but bear with me. It's close!

Missing Piece of the Puzzle

Chapter 29: Epiphany

Three days later…

"Thank you," I said to Omar, leaning back against his chair. "I wasn't paying attention to class that day, so I had no idea there was going to be a quiz on it this Friday. I really needed the notes."

Omar smiled, sitting down on his bed next to Sarah. "No problem. I know you've been having a little trouble lately, it's the least I can do."

I lowered my head. I haven't been paying attention to class at all lately. Ever since October, I've had the image of me going to college. Now, I have to make it come true with a scholarship and a job. I can't do that if I don't pass my final exams starting in two or three months. I need all the help I can get.

But the guilt of seeing Edward and Emmett looking for me still haunts my dreams. Now, nightmares. I need to let them know I'm okay, but I can't talk to Edward. I just… I can't.

"Umm… Omar?" I asked nervously.

He stopped talking to Sarah and looked at me. "Yeah?"

I bit my lip, getting teary-eyed. "Ca-can I borrow your phone?" I sucked in a deep breath. "Please…"

Omar immediately took out his Razor Phone from his pocket. "Yeah, sure. Of course, here you go," he handed it to me.

Sarah looked extremely worried about me. "Are you okay, Bells? Do you want us to step out?"

I tried to swallow the large ball in my throat as I shook my head. "N-no. It'll be better if you guys stayed." I wiped away a tear and flipped open the blue phone. Dialing the number I knew by heart, I took deep breaths.

I cleared my throat, my heart speeding up to a rate where it shouldn't even be healthy. Then, after what seemed eternity, someone picked up.

"H-hi!" I stumbled over my words. "I just- I just wanted to let you know I'm fine and I'm okay and – oh! Yeah, this is Bella – and, umm, I'm just…" More tears poured out. "And-and… I'm going to miss you, Em."

"Bella?" My heart froze into stone. "Bella, where are you? Are you okay? I'm coming to get you." It wasn't Emmett…it was Edward. "Bella! Bella? Are you still there? Answer me… Please. Please? Bella…?"

"Uh…your delivery from the…special place… is on its way. Call… five five five oh one nine seven…two six? For more information-bye!" I hung up the phone, hearing him yell my name one last time.

"What was that? It sounded like Edward yelling." Sarah said, confusion tightening her face.

I nodded. "He picked up Emmett's phone. God, why did I call? I made things worse…" I buried my face in my cold hands.

Sarah hugged me, rubbing my back, as I gave Omar his phone back. "Thanks, Omar..."

He gave me a sad look. "No prob- achoo!"

"Bless you," Sarah and I said in unison.

Omar groaned, getting a tissue. "Thanks. Man! When am I getting rid of this cold?"

I wiped away my tears, getting tissues for myself. "How long have you been sick, again?"

Omar threw the damp tissue away. "Since the beginning of December. I hate it."

"Oh…" There was an awkward silence.

I knew I was making the couple uncomfortable, so I left and walked back to The Cave. The rest of the day, and night, I cried. I even cried myself to sleep…again. I cried quietly, though, not wanting to disturb Sarah. I was tired of being a bother. It had to end.


Getting my bag, which contained contents for my personal being: toothbrush, razor, ect., I trudged out my room early in the morning. Most of the passageways of The Cave were empty, and it felt nice being away from the commotion. I felt lifeless. There was no meaning in what I'm going to do in life, so what's the point. Lifeless and useless are the two things I'm going by now.

I literally felt like a zombie as I reached the tunnel to go out. I threw my bag in and pushed it. Stepping up to the large piece of rock there, I bowed my head as I prepared to crawl in the tunnel.

As I raised my right foot, I heard someone behind me. "Hey!"

I jumped up, my head banging against the hard-rock ceiling, and landed on the floor, my right leg up in the air. Looking above me, I saw Jazmin gazing down on my fallen body. "A quiet 'hi' could've done it," I said, annoyed.

She didn't bother helping me as I got up. "So, listen, I wanted to talk to you."

I rolled my eyes, dusting off all the dirt and rubbing my throbbing head. "I told you, I was going to get the bread after school."

She shook her head. "That's not it. Oh, and by the way, we need Ketchup, too." I rolled my tired eyes again. "But what I wanted to talk to you about is," she stepped closer to me. "Why did you leave Dr. Cullen?"

At first, I wondered how she knew about Carlisle, and then I figured she meant Edw… him. I gulped and replied, "That's none of your business."

"You came back to us after months of not caring or helping around here – the hell with it's not my business. It is my business!"

I crossed my arms. "I told you, it was too perfect. My life shouldn't be like that and…and I don't really care about them anyway."

"Them?" She raised her eyebrow. "So what, there were more good-looking rich people involved? Let me guess, you left 'cause they loved you too much." Her tone was mocking, but she was right. I stayed quiet, biting my lip.

Jazmin gasped. "No! You didn't…" she said in disbelief. I brought my head down as she stomped her foot hard. "You have got to be fuckin' kidding me, Bella!"

Tears piled around the rim of my eyes like water of the ocean coming from different streams. This time, the currents were hard.

"Oh please," Jazmin spat, disgusted. "Don't start crying with me! You did this to yourself. You left him – left them! God, Bella. You're sucha…sucha… You're an idiot! A stupid idiot, with nothing better to do than make your life tougher than it already was."

"Stop!" I screamed, clearly being able to hear my nose clogged. "Just stop! You have no idea with what I'm going through. I lost everything. Everything!" I started gasping for air.

Jazmin looked like she wanted to punch me. "Sit down," she ordered. I stared at her hard, my falling tears being the only thing that move. "Sit your ass down before I permanently disable your ability to walk!" she barked.

I stayed glaring at her, but eventually threw myself against the rocky wall. Jazmin walked closer to me, looking like she wanted to strangle me. Funny, I wanted to strangle myself, too. I left Edward and there's no chance of me going back.

"You left them without warning, when you said your life was perfect, when you had everything given to you, when you actually had someone who was willing to take care of you the rest of your life and love you! Then, you came back here? To me? We've been through a lot together, but I'm not planning to take care of all of you forever." Jazmin growled.

I said nothing as I pulled my knees under my chin, still weeping quietly.

Jazmin sighed, her fuming anger beginning to disappear. "Bella, I knew how all of that felt like. Being rich, having everything, and then losing it all. I know it's hard losing the people who you loved. But there is a big difference between us." I looked up at her. "I-" she pointed at herself, "-had everything ripped from me. You-" she pointed at me, "-ran away from it. The people I love didn't love me back; the people you love adored you. I can't ever see them again nor have everything given back to me. You can see them whenever you want and you'll be loved by rich people in a snap." She snapped her fingers to show emphasis.

For one split, delighted second I wondered if they really could accept me back so easily. Of course, I knew the answer: Yes. They really would. Then reality crushed me under the heavy pound of bricks, and I knew I couldn't go back to them.

Jazmin looked over me, made a disgusted sound from the back of her throat, and left. I was alone again, just like I always wanted.

Wiping the tears away from under my eyes, I got up and angrily made my way outside. After crawling through the tight, round space, I dusted myself off. Slinging the straps of my bag over my shoulder, I walked up the short amount of stairs that lead to the front door of the abandoned house. Once inside the pitch black building, I ignored whoever was in the kitchen (probably one of the girls getting a snack) and went strait to the bathroom on the second floor. The old stairs creaked under me, each one of them reminding me the difference from the stairs I climbed at Edward's house – it's the same difference of my life then and now.

These old stairs are torn and broken with no use left; Edward's were clean and fresh with meaning to them. They were, well, beautiful. Now I ended up with this crappy life, these crappy stairs again. But it's what I wanted… Right? That's why I left. I didn't want the new stairs. I like the ones I'm stepping on right now.

As I put my foot out, I didn't realize I had already finished climbing the steps. So, I stepped on unexpected air and fell, my bag flying out of my arm and landing on top of me as my body and face met the floor. Yep, I though to myself, I just adore these stairs.

"Bella," someone called from the kitchen under me. "Are you okay?"

Funny how they already knew it was me. "Yeah," I yelled beck, my left cheek planted on the dusty old floor. And muttering to myself, I said, "Just dandy." I pushed myself off, my bag landing on the floor next to me, and used the stairs' rails to help myself up. Once I was on my feet, I picked up my bag and shuffled to the bathroom.

When I was under the cold water of the shower, (shivering myself to death, of course) I didn't feel any better. How I wished I was under those warm water jets. Mmm… Now all I have to keep me warm are my towel and the hairs on my arms flying up. Thank you, homeostasis. I finally unwrapped my arms around myself to reach for my razor. Now that every single strand of hair on my body is up and goosebumps are invading my skin, there's no better time to shave. With a shaky hand, I picked up the pink razor but all of the sudden I got a blaze of cool water running down my back, causing my entire body to give out one massive shake. During the process, the razor slipped out of my hands and skidded down the skin of my thighs, leaving lines of three down to my right knee.

"Ow!" I screamed. "Ow, ow, ow, ow!" With tears spilling over the bottom crease of my eye, I moved away from the water and sat on the edge of the tub. Thin streams of blood were flowing over and under my leg, a minor fountain of blood replacing the water around my feet. I cried as I moved the shower curtain aside and reached for my towel. I wrapped it around my leg and put pressure on it. I still whimpered as I tried to turn of the water, but I figured it would help the blood flow away.

I couldn't stop crying. The pain from leaving, the pain from being here, seeing Edward and Emmett, cutting through the only large amount of skin on my legs that weren't scarred already… It was far too much compressed in a nutshell.

I sniffed at the increasing agony, physically and emotionally. I unwrapped my, now bloody, towel and stared at my legs. They were full of scars. My life is so screwed up! Why don't they just make a show about it? Or even better, a book. (Haha!) I cursed under my breath and threw the stupid towel into the tub.

Why me? Why do I attract so much crap? I'm sick of it! I shrieked, slamming my palms on the old tub. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid life. Stupid love. I hate this! I yelled into the air again, letting out my increasing anger on myself. Why did I run away from it all? "Why!" I wailed into the air, my tear ducts releasing a large amount of water droplets called tears. I, of all people, should know that they seem to never run out.

With raging anger, I grabbed the razor again. Well, I said to myself, everything about me is already messed up. Why not just damage everything that's going to end up hurting later on? Beat myself to the punch, again. There's no use in denying it was going to end like this anyway, might as well place it upon myself to do it.

The razor in my right hand, I held it in a way so that the silver blades glistened under the dim light, luring me in with their shine. All my troubles, all my pain… They can disappear in a mere second. And what do I lose by it? A few drops of blood? Doesn't sound like a bad deal to me. On the contrary, I deserve it. And more. Carefully holding the razor as if it were a fragile crystal, I moved my hand closer to the bottom of my leg, a couple inches away from my bent knee. I was shaking – my entire arm was trembling. If it was for fear, anticipation, or excitement, I don't know, but I liked it. I was enjoying this far too much. And this was just the teasing. I have yet to shed blood on purpose – for a purpose. It's been much too long, and the wait is finally going to be over.


I practically skipped down the wooden steps, minding the fact they could easily break under me. Everything felt right again; the way it should be! Of course, it hurt a bit when I moved my right leg, but that was nothing. It was just the cost I paid for happiness and glee. And I was way over my head in debt of it, but I'm pretty sure I made up for it in the shower. As I landed on the final walkway that led to the main door, I noticed a slight burning sensation around my newly formed cuts. I had forgotten how much that tingled, but it was alright. I'll just wrap something around my leg and I'll be as good as new. I already am!

Stepping out into the fresh night air, I noticed the stars twinkling above. I felt like it was their approval for my recent action: leaving and going back to my old lovely habits. I mean, who am I kidding? I've practically endured so much through probing my skin; it's become a part of who I am today. Roaming through a brand new lifestyle was fun and all, but this is me. I can't ignore it or part from it. And no one is ever going to change me again.

I was finally inside the cave again. A little dirt covered my still moist hair, but I brushed it off easily. Once I picked up my bag again, I noticed about half of the girls in the main entrance were giving me a peculiar look. Especially Sarah. Grinning, I walked closer to her.

"What? I just came out of the shower, I can't possibly have anything on my face," I said cheerfully.

Looking up at me from her short height, she raised an eyebrow. "What the hell happened to you? You're smiling so hard, I could've seen your dimples from through the ground to up at the house." She blinked then gasped, pointing at my face. "You have dimples around your mouth? Since when?"

I laughed coolly at her unexpected state of shock. "You never noticed I had them? Even when I was with Edward?"

Her brown eyes were wide as they roved around my face. "And you even said Edward without looking like you're about to fall into pieces… Weird."

I giggled at her silliness. "Come on," I curled my fingers around her thin arm. "I need to tell you something in our room!"

"Whoa!" she exclaimed as I held her arm, pushing some girls out of the way to get to our room. "Bella, be careful. Ow! I was about to fall!"

I laughed, making it in our room. Shutting the 'door', I threw the bag on my bed and smiled widely at a panting and gasping Sarah. "I swear, Bella," she licked her lips and gulped. "You are the only person I know who can go from sad to giddy in an instant, and fall over air but be able to run like a track star."

I smiled brightly at her compliment. "Thank you! Now," I ushered her to sit down on her mattress, the place where I threw my bag at. "Let me tell you why I was all mope-dopey. I have been cutting myself for years! Then, I just stop for a few months. So, of course I'm going to be depressed by it. It had absolutely nothing to do with leaving Edward and them!"

Sarah tilted her head to the side. "So…" She blinked. "You're saying you weren't depressed because you left your perfect life…?"

I shook my head, proud of my newly found discovery, and paced back and forth in front of her. "I was down in the dumps because of my cutting, or lack thereof."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Lack what of?"

I stopped in front of her and grabbed her by her frail shoulders. "Me was sad because me no cut myself. Un-der-stand?" I nodded my head.

Sarah grimaced. "I'm not retarded, so stop talking to me like that."

Stepping away from her, my sunny bright smile melted into a worried frown. "Sorry! I was implying that you're dumb, I was just explaining. Please don't be mad. Come on!" I smiled again. "Be happy! Or, as they say in those trashcan commercial, 'Don't get sad, get glad!'"

Sarah scrunched her brows together, giving me the same look babies do when you try talking to them. "O-kay," She got up. "I have no idea what you're talking about… Especially with the trashcan commercial thing…?" Sarah gestured me to replace her seat on the mattress, so I did. "But I do know one thing: you're not going to start cutting yourself again."

My face, along with my giddy mood, dropped. "What?"

She gave me a look as if everything were obvious. "I'm not going to let you hurt yourself again," she said, in a 'duh' tone.

I stood up, which was difficult considering I was practically on the ground. "I'm not hurting myself."

"You're cutting through your own skin on purpose," she answered back. "That's called harming yourself."

"Well, I think of it as…" She raised her eyebrow at me, crossing her arms, as she waited for me to go on. "I think of it as releasing my inner anger against my own skin to control myself mentally, emotionally and physically." Sarah gave me a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look. "I call it coping with my troubles, if you will." I smiled at her.

"I call it bull-crap." My smile vanished. She continued, "I also call it being called emo."

"That's so stupid!" I threw my hands up in the air. "Why do you people have to judge?"

"Bella!" Sarah screamed. "What do people labeled emo do?"

"Cut themselves," I spat.

She raised both her eyebrows.

I shook my head. "Well, technically I do cut myself, but I'm not emo."

"Uh-huh,"

"I'm not!" I stared down at her. "I thought you were my friend. I thought me being happy would make you happy."

"I am happy that you're happy, Bells. I'm just mad that the only way you can get happy, or smile anymore, is by hurting yourself."

"It doesn't hurt; it makes me feel better – about myself, about others, about everything!"

Sarah groaned. "Can't you see?" She looked at me through her stump, thin eyelashes. "It's like a drug to you." I thought about that. "When you cut yourself, you're the best you think you've ever been. But when you don't, you think it's the worst time of your life. It's exactly like an addicting drug! And you know drugs are bad. Horrible, even. I mean…" She crossed her arms and looked down sadly. "Just look at how Karina ended up." She gazed back up at me. "Dead."

There was a long intermission of silence, excluding the noises outside the 'door'. My eyes discharged with tears as I remembered that night.

"Well…" I licked my lips and crossed my arms. "That's why I don't do the actual drugs." Shaking my head, I walked away from her and sat down again. "Look Sarah, I'm trying my best at school, I'm forgetting about Edward, and I would go back to counseling if I would."

"Two out of three's not bad." She muttered under her breath.

I went on as if she had not interrupted. "I need my own personal brand of heroine. I need something I feel like I can control. Just let me be happy. Please… What would you do without Omar? Starve yourself again? You've at least been gaining a little more weight. That's good…"

Sarah's eyes widened as she looked down at her flat belly. Of course, she's still anorexic, and that means being terrified to gain weight. "W-well," she stammered, trying hard not to look overwhelmed but occasionally looked down at her stomach. "I, uh… Yes. Omar is my brand of heroine, and hurting yourself is yours." Words came out of her small mouth, but no intension behind it. I hate pulling out the anorexia card on her, but it always distracts her. "And cutting yourself is bad," she went on, darting her eyes to her stomach again. "So, you're not gonna do it… Because it's bad. Umm," she looked at me with pained eyes. "Can we just stop talking about this?"

I gave her a small smile and nodded. "Sure."

She let out a sigh of relief and threw herself down next to me. "Whew," she smiled at me gratefully. "Glad that conversation is over. Say, have I-" When she moved over my bag of necessities, she yelped, "Ow!"

My brow furrowed. "What? There's nothing sharp in there. I put my razor's cap on after I, er, used it." I scooted closer to her as she rubbed her hand and placed my heavy bag on top of me.

"I don't what that was, put it's end was sharp. Do you have some kind of box in there?" she asked.

I shook my head and I fished through the blue bag. "Not that I remember, but maybe-" I gasped.

"What?" Sarah asked, then moved closer and looked over my shoulder. "For me? You shouldn't have!" Her voice coated with fakeness. Taking what was in my hand away from me, she sat crossed legged and looked at it. "What is it?" She fumbled with it.

I turned around to face her, and I barely realized my mouth had stayed open. "I, umm, I don't know." I answered honestly and took the thin box with blue wrapping paper and a crushed bow from her. "I think this was supposed to be my Christmas gift… But how did it end up in my bag?"

Sarah snatched it from me again, but my hands stayed in place. "Hmm, when I saw you at school – you know, when you were still with him – you had nicer clothes, no offense. As if they cost more, you know? And the clothes you brought with you… Well, they're the clothes you had before. Where were the old ones?" She nodded her head to the rugged Joan Jett shirt I was wearing.

Not thinking clearly, I licked my lips and shook my head. "Uh, the end of my closet, I think. But he wouldn't hide it there – I mean, I never went through there anywa- oh…"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "There ya have it. He hid it in a place where you wouldn't look. I guess it was a good plan – considering you said it yourself that you never looked there – but bad timing kinda ruined his hiding secret-"

"Sarah!" She stopped to look at me. "Do you know what this means? What you have right there in your hand is Edward's Christmas gift to me." I couldn't believe my own words.

"Well, it's mid January now, but who cares? Open it!" She jumped up and placed the gift on my lap.

I picked it up and shook my head. "No way; I am not – repeat not-"

"Not."

I gave her a dirty look. "-going to open this present."

Sarah seemed to contemplate that for a while. "Fine," she shrugged and got it from me. "I'll open it."

"No!" As I reached for it, she immediately got up and threw the torn bow on the floor.

"To Bella," she read as I got up. "From yours truly, Edward. Awh, how cute! Let's see what Mr. Cullen got you, shall we?"

"Sarah, give it back." I said in a determined tone. As I tried to grab it, she turned around and began walking. I heard paper tear. Ugh. "Sarah…"

"Stupid cardboard, won't you open?" Rushing to her, I heard the sound of scrapping. Then, a small pop. "Whoa!" She stopped in place, her back to me.

"What? What is it?" I panicked and ran to her. "Wow," I breathed, my eyebrows nearly touching my hairline.

Gaping at the object in her hand, Sarah finally spoke what we were both thinking. "He got you an iPod Touch?"

"He got me an iPod Touch…"

Again, silence rushed around us.

An iPod Touch… For me? He shouldn't have. But why? So much more money wasted on me. And when did he buy it? Could I return it and get the money back? I could use it to buy things instead of actually stealing, for once.

I heard a thin crack, and my eyes fixed on the iPod again. I yelled at Sarah,

"Don't open it!" She pivoted her foot, and I heard her open the case. Afterword, I heard another crack. "Stop! I'm going to return it."

She looked at me and smiled. "I don't think that's gonna happen, Honey. It's engraved."

"What!" I took it from her. Fair enough, on the back it had my name engraved, along with Little Drug Addict. "Oh…" I was speechless. Words couldn't make up for how horrible I was feeling. I could never be happy, could I? Just when things get better, the clouds open up and God says, I hate you Isabella Swan.

"Don't cry," Sarah wiped a hot tear I didn't notice from my cheek. She then proceeded to take the iPod away from me again. "How do you turn it on? Oh! Oh, okay. Wow, the screen feels awesome. Cool! He already has songs in it for you and everything."

I wiped the rest of my flowing tears and walked closer to her. "Really?" My voice cracked.

She was on the Artist section, and with one touch of her tiny finger, the screen scrolled down so that every artist, by alphabetical order, was shown. It had every band I learned to love, and classical music – including Debussy and Wolfgang A. Mozart. Even Bach…

"Nice," Sarah smiled and pulled out white headphones from the case. "Let's see if he got you any good music." She plugged them in, and with a confused face, tried to pick a song to listen to.

Frozen, I absently walked to the mattress on the floor. Without blinking – or even thinking, for that matter – I let myself fall on it. Feeling tired and useless, I curled up into a ball. Tears as my blanket and the frumpy bag as my pillow, I fell asleep.

By the end of January, I felt like a zombie once more. With my thighs, stomach, and shoulders cut up again, I looked like one, too. In fact, at times, I acted like one. Sure, I laughed with Sarah and Omar more, I stole to make Jazmin happy, and I worked on school hard. Really hard. Still, I never really did feel whole. Much to Sarah's disappointment, I used my iPod to help me concentrate with my school work. (She loved listening to it, but always had the brightness down so we didn't have to charge it so much. The house barely carries enough electricity.) As well as to my disappointment, using my iPod also made me think of Edward. Everything made me think if him! At school, at home, whenever; I always think of him, and it makes me miss him more. I wish I hadn't left. I wish I could stop cutting myself. I wish I wasn't in love with him, because I shouldn't be capable of loving him. I shouldn't, but I do. How is that possible? I still have my doubts that it really is love, but every time I think of him, my heart flutters, and I blush. Then I get this warm feeling inside my chest, and I have to remind myself to breath. Right before I smile, I become crushed, realizing I left him. I left his family. I can't grow accustomed to how I lived life before Edward, his family, and friends. For that, I deserve to torture myself with giving up drops of blood at a time. If I really hate myself, it'll be more than just a couple drops, but that's when I have to get the bleach out.

Anyway, he's always in the back of my mind, his beautiful face and velvet voice haunting me. Before I knew it, February began. Edward had completely stopped looking for me at school. I saw him at first searching for me, then rarely, and now never. I got what I wanted, unfortunately. I'm still trying to cope, and I'd go a day or two without being 'emo', but then I would break and run for my razor. I even snuck out an actual blade from the Art room.

Now, I'm working on my Human Geography AP homework on the floor of my room – in The Cave, of course. With my iPod playing on full blast, Vivaldi filled the dirty air, helping me concentrate, yet also reminding me about my lost chance with Edward.

"Bella," Sarah ran into the room, out of breath.

I looked up at her, wondering what was going on. "What's wrong?"

"You know how Omar's taking me to the Valentine's dance?" She asked so fast I had to use my mind to break her words apart. Sarah waited for my answer, clutching a piece of paper against her heaving chest.

"…Yeah?" I answered, worried about her frantic, yet excited, eyes. "What about it?"

"You have to come with us!"

"Why?"

She aggressively shoved the paper in my face, which turned out to be a flyer to the Valentine's Day dance. They were all around school today, but I hardly bother to give as much as a glance to them. Even as I took it away from her and placed it to the side, I repeated my question: "Why do I have to go with you?"

"Because Edward's chaperoning!"

I quickly picked up the flyer again and read it. Edward Cullen was chaperoning, along with my ninth grade Algebra teacher and eleventh grade Physics teacher. Edward hadn't given up.

He was looking for me one more time.

End of Chapter

I hope most of you caught that line from 'The Little Rascals'. Let me know if you know what I'm talking about. Sorry for any misspelling or misuse of words, I was trying to get this out as fast as I could due to my long delay. Again, I apologize for that. Your thoughts and suggestions (even though I know what I'm doing) are appreciated. Thank you for sticking with me! Thirteen Microsoft Word pages :)

-Mayra (Mayface)