February 19, 2011*
Carlisle approaches me the day after that little escapade I had with Edward. I'm sitting on my stool, painting as usual. But it's a harsh painting. With harsh lines and stiff edges and angry colors and angry faces. Such angry faces.
It reminds me of people going to Hell. They're all screaming, enraged that they're going to Hell. There's fire and the Devil, and I don't know what caused me to paint this. But something did.
"Hey, Bella," he says, walking over to me. His tone shifts. "What are you painting?"
"Hell, I guess," I tell him, my throat tightening. "I-I-I dunno why I painted it. I guess it's something that's going on in my mind."
"About your mind," he says, sighing heavily and sitting on my bed.
I drop my head, my grip on the brush tightening. "You think I'm crazy, don't you? You think I need to be locked up?"
"No, no, nothing like that, Bella," he says. "I think you to talk with someone. You're suffering from PTSD. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. You relive what happened to you. Esme and I just don't want you to hurt anymore. But I know it's not that easy. We just want this to be easier. We know it's not easy, what you're doing. I know it's not easy for you to keep the baby, especially how it was conceived."
I'm quiet throughout his little speech. But when he's done, I feel myself shaking. He's hit a nerve, and he knows it, but he's not using it like . . . Charlie ever would. He's not using it as a way to torture me. He really wants to help.
Carlisle pushes himself up and walks over to me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me to his body.
"Why couldn't I have just never been born to him?" I ask, the first traitor tears falling.
"I don't know," he says. "But you never deserved anything he did to you."
The tears fall harder now, and I shut my eyes, not wanting to look at the best father anyone could ask for.
The next day, Carlisle takes me to a doctor at the hospital. He sits with me while we wait. I'm sitting on the crinkly paper they'll put on the beds for patients, and he sits on a chair next to me.
The man that enters is the other doctor from when I tried to kill myself. He's dark with black hair and odd blue eyes that I wouldn't expect on him.
We go through the appointment, and yeah, I've got PTSD. I'm given two different medications that will help with the dreams and flashbacks. I just really hope they work. I really don't want to live in this anymore. I really do not want to deal with it.
It's scary. It's worse than the scariest horror movie you could ever think of. And I continue to do this. I continue to keep the child. I don't know why, I just do. I can't kill the thing inside of me. It develops so quickly, and how could anyone kill it?
Carlisle and Esme also take me to a therapist. It sort of worked. I could talk about the hitting and the insults and the physical stuff, but nothing else. I couldn't say anything beyond that. It hurt too much. I broke down horribly when we first broke that tiny barrier, and I said something about it, but then I retreated at the wrong moment and my brain fried at what happened.
That was about a month ago. It's March 26th now. But on the bright side, the drugs help block the memories. But only block. I know they're there. Fighting against the wall that the drugs have built for me. And when they break past, it'll be like the Berlin Wall coming down. Random, and painful. Those memories will attach with sledgehammers and take my mind out.
I've explained this to the therapist. I think she largely understands what I'm trying to say.
April 16, 2011
"Hey, Bells, spring break starts soon," says Edward, opening my door. He stares at me and then laughs. I was jumping on my bed, moving to the song on the radio. It's by Escape The Fate.
I get off the bed and turn down the radio.
"Having fun?" he asks.
"Yep," I ask, one of my best smiles on. I'm four months now, and you can tell. But that's because of the twins. I found out when Carlisle had me in for an ultrasound, saying I was large for roughly two and a half months.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked Carlisle, staring between him and the ultrasound. "That can't be right. No."
"No, I'm not kidding, that is right," he told me.
"No, no, no," I said, my lower lip quivering, my mouth open.
He hugged me. "You're having twins."
"Dammit."
But I've sort of come to terms with it. Sort of managed to except that, yeah, this is happening, and as soon as I found out, I thought, "Now I have even more reason not to go through abortion." No one was trying that, no one mentioned, but it's something I had to tell myself.
"So, guess what we're doing for spring break," he says.
"What?" I ask, walking to my closet. He stays in place, and I leave the door open. I trust him.
"We're going to the fair," he says. "And then a few theme parks."
"But, it's April," I say. I pull on a t-shirt with monsters that glows in the dark and a pair of jeans. "And we live Forks. The rainiest place on the continental United States. Why?"
"Not, here, silly," he says as I walk out. He's grinning. "We're going to Universal Studios."
"Awesome!" I cry, hugging him.
"Yeah, get packing, we're leaving in a few hours. Carlisle and Esme just told the rest of us."
He kisses me gently and then turns and leaves. I pull out my suitcase and pack it with all the clothing Rose and Alice have gotten me. I pack other essentials, and then drag the suitcase downstairs. But I stop about halfway down and then run back up to pack a backpack with some drawing stuff and my laptop. I've got three auctions that will end over spring break. I need to monitor them.
Jake still hasn't called, hasn't talked to me. He's still upset about how he and I can never be. I've tried to call him, went to his house a few times, but he won't talk to me. He's started hanging out with new people, and I'm not sure what I think of them.
Everyone else is downstairs, their stuff by the door.
"We still have an hour before we need to leave," says Esme.
"Black Ops!" shouts Emmett, running to the game station. He grabs the remote, flipping on the TV and remote controller simultaneously.
I chuckle and pick up another controller as Jasper and Edward take the other two. The three boys stare at me.
"Can you even play?" they ask in shock.
"Level 50," I tell them, smirking.
Their mouths drop open.
"I made my own account and play while you guys are at school," I say, laughing openly.
"She gets into it," says Esme. "Often, when I'm fulfilling her cravings, I hear 'No! Die! Ha, bastard, suck on that!' You're entertaining, Bella."
My cheeks feel like the sun, and everyone's laughing, but Edward kisses my cheek.
"Now, let's play," says Emmett, clearing his throat.
And we play, for an hour.
"Ha!" Jasper declares at the end of the first match. "Highest kills!"
"But Bella had the least deaths, and was one kill behind you," says Rose. "So ha to you."
"Thanks a lot, sis," he mutters, sitting back down.
Carlisle and Esme packed up the cars while we played, and then we loaded ourselves up.
The next day, the first place we went was this fair in this town about an hour out of Orlando. Emmett and Jasper ran off to find food, and Rose and Alice went off to do whatever it is they wanted. Carlisle and Esme went through the little stands set up, and that left Edward and I.
"Where first?" I ask, as he links his fingers with mine.
"Let's play a game," he says.
We walk down the long line of stands and concessions and then stop in front of a dark-throwing game.
"Win your girlfriend a prize?" asks the man at the game. "A dollar to play."
"Sure, I'll try," says Edward, pulling a dollar from his pocket. He hands it to the man, and I start scanning the prizes. I lock my eyes on a white dog with brown spots. I want it.
I hear the first balloon pop and then another. He pops three more and then the man nods.
"Well, sonny, that seemed a bit too easy for ya," he says, scratching his weathered face. "How about you give me another dollar, and I'll give you ten darts instead of five. If you make at least seven of those shots, then you're pretty little girlfriend gets two prizes instead of one."
I see James in his place instead, and my grip of Edward's hand tightens. I back up a step, and Edward shakes his head. I forgot the medicine this morning. That's why this is happening. That has to be why.
"No," he says firmly. He looks at me and I tell him about the dog. "The dog. Now."
"Ah, don't be like that, sonny," he says, getting the dog down. "Sure ya purdy girl don't want anything else?"
"I'm sure," he says, his hand tightening on mine. "We're leaving."
Edward and I walk away, and I fight the urge to make sure James isn't following us. Edward and I sit on a bench two rows away.
"You okay?" he asks, sweeping some of my hair away. I'm clutching the stuffed dog.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I will be."
We stay there for a few minutes, and then I get up. We walk on and go play a few more games. I won once or twice, but Edward won more often than anyone. We put the stuff back in the rented minivan and then went to find something to eat.
Spring break was awesome. Best one I've had in years. We went to the Harry Potter theme park in Universal, and the butter beer was fantastic. We did some shopping while we were there, of course, and saw a movie. Edward and I went out for dinner twice.
My three paintings closed for over $600 each. It's amazing! I can't believe people like my stuff that much. I guess maybe I can use that to go buy some baby stuff. I kind of need to still.
When we returned home, Edward carried my bags up to my room. As he sat my backpack on my bed, his cell phone started ringing.
He answered it, and I rolled my suitcase into my closet. I'd unpack later. I plugged in my laptop as Edward hung up.
He ran to me and spun me around, kissing me and hugging me.
"You're dating a professional author!" he says, laughing, kissing me.
"What? I didn't even know you wrote anything," I tell him.
"Oh, yeah, I never told you. Sorry, babe," he says, chuckling. "Here, come with me and you can read it."
We walk to his room, and he takes a thick manuscript out from a box in his closet. He hands it to me.
Following Bells, is the title. I flip to the next page. 'Dedicated to my girlfriend, Bella, who's gone through so my much and is still so strong, so beautiful. I love you, babe.'
"Edward," I say, tears brimming on my eyes.
"I love you," he says, bending down and pressing his lips to mine.
"I love you, too," I tell him, kissing back and wrapping my arms around his neck. The manuscript falls from my hand as the pregnancy hormones take over.
Somehow, we end up back on his couch, and his hand is stroking my stomach. Then, I don't see Edward.
"Oh my, God, you're so beautiful," he says. But I hear James's voice. I scream and shove him off me, running from the room.
"Wait, Bella!" he shouts, and I hear him run after me.
I make it to my room, shut the door and lock it. I dash into my closet, my heart pounding. I can't even kiss my boyfriend without this happening. It's not fair! I slide down the back of my shut door, pulling my knees to my chest.
"Bella," I hear the muffled, pathetic sound of Edward's voice. I feel horrible for this, but I can't face him. Not yet, not right now. I need to calm myself first.
I don't know why the medicine didn't stop that. I think it's just because of the words that triggered. They were so close. So very close.
*Date of occurrence in the story. I don't mean for this to come out as a journal, but I felt it would be better to give you guys a timeline.
Yes, I've finished editing in the part I had left out. Whoo!
I know you guys are unhappy about the twins, but I just…I dunno, it's something I added. I just – don't ask, okay? Don't make me explain. 'Cause I can't. And it's my work. And as I've said before, if you don't like it, don't fucking read it.
Same as last time about this being a filler kind of chapter.
Also, review, please, and don't forget the poll! Even if you've already voted, you can leave a few extra names I could consider. The names that I'm likely to pick are – ha, no. I'm not telling. You have to keep guessing. Teehee.
Love you!
xXRayneXx