Disclaimer: The usual, I don't own, blah blah blah.
A/N: I am sorry I keep writing such short chapters, I'll try to make them longer. I will add in here though, that Bella with PTSD, will have a rather hard time trusting again, so it was a rather large step for her to allow Carlisle to read even some of what she had wrote. I'd also like you to note, that Bella was never sexually abused, these are just products of nightmares, and fears.
And something else I would like to add: If you or anyone one you know is in an abusive relationship, whether it be at home, or romantically, please, please seek help, removing the abused from the situation is the first step in the healing process.
Also, Thank you all of my reviewers, I sincerely appreciate your reviews.
Remember, this is my first fic, so please, be gentle.
Bella POV
Carlisle seemed rather surprised when I told him I was ready for him to read what I had written. I was rather nervous of what he would think, for his opinion matters most to me. I handed him the journal, and watched as his eyes scanned the page, I could tell when he got to some of the more disturbing parts, for his eyes widened and his jaw would clench. After finishing the first page, he flipped to the next, which was mostly poetry of different sorts. He continued to read through, and I was surprised to see a look of what I think was astonishment, come across his face.
Carlisle POV
When she brought me the journal, I was quite ecstatic to be able to read her writing, for if she was as articulate in her writing as she was when she was speaking, it would be absolutely fascinating.
The first page was a description of the nightmare she had her first night staying here. It was of her father raping her, and I could clearly see where she had cried, for there were water stains on the page. My eyes had widened in disgust, and I did my best to suppress a growl, for it was absolutely disgusting for any person to cause someone this much pain.
The next page, after I took a moment to control the bubbling feeling in my chest from the growl, was much more happy, but it did have some depressing undertones, it was a poem,
There is a mighty freedom
With which we run,
With our lives in our hands,
We must still stand,
To allow our hurting and our pain,
To remain strained.
It will all come to an end,
As long as there is no unsuspected bend.
We must not run,
It defeats the fun,
Of having life
Without strife.
To end our suffering,
We must not continue bluffing.
If we stand by our brother,
And stick with our mother,
Time will be of the essence,
And fate, will bless us with presence.
"Wow." Was all I managed to say after reading the poem, though the line about our mothers somewhat surprised me, for the poor relationship she had with hers..
"Let me guess, the line about mothers has you confused?"
"That would be correct."
"I suppose I always seemed to see an apology in Renee's eyes whenever Charlie, was being, well you get it. But it seemed she was truly regretful for what was happening, but loved my father too much to do anything. It sucked coming second, but I still sort of could understand her position."
I nodded, when she had finished, understanding, to an extent, of where she was coming from. I continued on to the next page.
The next page, just had some random ramblings, which I actually found quite interesting. The first on was about Hope, and how it needed to be balanced. Then next was about Love and Hate, and how you couldn't experience one without the other. The next was about fear, and how a healthy dose never hurt anyone. As I went to turn to the next page, she stopped me,
"I'm not quite ready for you to read any farther…." She had trailed off, almost as if she was asking if it was okay.
I smiled, "That's fine, thank you for sharing this with me."
She blushed at my words, and I handed her the journal. She left the room, and I once again heard her strumming the guitar.
I started to browse the shelves of my library, but not finding anything to read, I sat at my desk, and began to read some new medical journals.
Bella POV
I went back to My room, well Jasper's, and started playing guitar, I was still all nervous, because I really didn't understand Carlisle's reactions too the writing I shared with him. But I was proud of myself for starting to trust again. I had enough of playing guitar, so I popped a movie in, and drifted into a nightmare free sleep.