Thank you so much to the ThePyschoVamp who has reviewed: Your reviews have been so lovely, thank you. Hopefully, I can keep up the good work for you! ;)

Here's chapter three.

Chapter three:

He thought it was time that he stopped going to school for a bit; just a little tiny bit.

The first memory that came to him had scared him. He thought he had blocked out that part of his life, blocked out the horrible terrors on which he had created. His mind had subconsciously built a wall to protect the rest of his clear mind, but after a few decades of black terrors banging on it, the foundations of the wall were cracking. He had been expecting it; but not this soon.

Yeah, maybe in a few more years or so. He wasn't expecting it to happen now, now, of all times. Esme was already worrying about him being lonely - thanks to Alice who had told both their parents about his moody, broody mood - and if he started acting even more off. God knows, maybe even starting to go back to his old ways.

Those memories behind that wall should never be remember. Especially not by him. They could make him do the most terrible things. But hopefully, that one poxy little memory was all that was coming through.

He had been saying hopefully a lot recently; and he was starting to loose his trust in the word.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The heart of the girl next to him was going crazy, as she looked at the test the teacher had just giving them. She was nervous, by the way she was twiddling her pen in the most annoying way, and the fact that her heart was going wild. Sweat was dripping down her neck slowly, small little beads that made her scent even more delicious. It was almost as if the vein in her neck was pulsing on purpose; as if it wanted him to take it.

He had taken this test before. He knew that answers. He was glad that he had something to take his mind off the sweet, delicious scent of the blood in the room. That vital substance that pumped through all of the pupils and students here. Well, not all of the students, himself as a prime example. He started to focus on the history test in front of him, concentrating harder then he usually would.

The girl next to him had brushed her hair back so it now hung down her back instead of in front of her neck, like a protective sheet of amour from the monster. Her pale neck was standing out, and he couldn't help but imagine drops of red slowly dripping down that neck as she took her last breath. His hands clamped over the table, and his teeth were grinding together so loud he swore the girl next to him - her name was Jessica, he found out when he read her thoughts - could hear him.

It didn't help the fact she kept sneaking glances at him. Her hormones would sky rocket when she looked at him, soft little glances that no human eyes would be able to catch. Her hormones would make her sweet flowery scent strong, sending waves of the stupidly sweet odour towards him.

Seventeen minutes.

He hadn't been breathing for seventeen minutes. He still moved his shoulders up and down so it looked like he was breathing, and every so often opened his mouth as if to exhale, but he wasn't breathing in so much as a whiff of oxygen. He wouldn't dare. If he did, he was putting the whole school at risk.

The hunting trip with Emmett and Jasper had filled a hole; a little tiny hole. It had soaked up some of the hunger for now, but he had a feeling that he would have to go later with Alice and Rosalie. Alice, he didn't mind. Alice hadn't caught on to Jasper's hunting habits, and moved gracefully and quietly through the forest so she could catch her prey. Rosalie, unsurprisingly, was just as boisterous and joyful as the boys when hunting. Usually, Alice, Edward and Carlisle would go, occasionally Esme, but she preferred to just go with Carlisle on their own. Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett kept to themselves. They had spilt themselves up into quiet hunters, and loud hunters.

He had finished the history test now, and had taken to arranging the pencils on his desk. The green was first, then the aqua, then the light blue then the dark blue. His grey pencil was underneath them, length ways. The black ball point pen that he had been using was lay out just at the top of his straight test paper. Everything was just right. Apart from him.

There was a thorn stuck in his side. Figuratively speaking, of course, his skin was so hard that any poor thorn that attempt to make it's way into his body would snap and die. The figurative thorn that was stuck in his side was itchy, scratchy, but he made no attempt to itch or scratch it. It was the need. The need for soft, warm, gooey blood that was travelling through veins and arteries, teasing him with the sound of it. He could feel the heat swapping off all the people in the room.

He couldn't wait until lunch time, so he could finally breathe again.

Edward didn't know what it was about the forest that calmed him. He hunted here, hunted down his prey and let the monster take over so he could, but he could feel the utmost calm here. Maybe it was the colours, the contrast of green with brown for the evergreen trees. Maybe it was the auburn twinge that most of the leaves had; the right ratio of yellow, to orange, to brown. Some were torn with holes in on the forest floor, scattered from when he had blown in like Hurricane Edward. Maybe it was the way he could act out here; he could act who he was, he didn't have to hide. Up here, the sun shone down directly on the tall trees, and separate beams beamed through the gaps in the tall trees. He glittered like a thousand diamonds. He didn't have to act.

He breathed in the smells of nature; the soft smell of the damp forest floor, the smell of the leaves falling from the trees at the first signs of autumn. It made him relax ever so slightly, let his guard slip down ever so slightly. He was now alone. He wasn't in a cramped classroom where there were thirty or so horny teenagers that smelt so divine. He breathed in and out deeply, enjoying the fresh air before having to go back.

His siblings were probably wondering where he was. Usually, he would sit with pretend food in front of him, holding his breath as he moved his shoulders and blinked and did all the natural things a human did while talking. It was a lot of effort, as well as trying to ward off cravings for blood. He decided he needed a break. A well needed break.

He carried on walking, just enjoying the scenery. His mind was completely at rest. There was no voice there telling him what to do; no haunting memories that were looming over his mind, threatening to crash across his mind. He was cool, calm and collected, and the forest was the only place that could manage to do that. Sure, he was thirsty, and he knew that half of his mind was begging him to quench that thirst, but the other half was telling him to go and explore, to forget about that part of him for now. So he did. He gave into the rational part of his mind for once.

The first sight of the meadow was beautiful the long tall grass almost reached mid thigh, and the purple blue flowers almost reached that height. It looked as if nobody had been here in a while, the way the trees had obviously overgrown separate entrances to this wonderland. Birds chirped and chipmunks ran along the branches, but his eyes weren't on them. His eyes were taking in the wonder that was this meadow. He ran his fingers along the tree right in front of him, feeling the bark beneath his marble cold fingers.

And, for the first time in a long time, he smiled. A real, nice smile.

He lay down in the tall grass, disturbing its sway in the wind, and making a Edward shaped patch in the grass. His fingers went to touch it as he was suddenly fasincated by something he had seen so many times before. His eyes were looking up into the dark sky, expect the sun that shone brightly down on him as if it were a spotlight, pointing him out to the world. He was the only thing wrong in this beautiful picture; but he simply didn't care.

The buzzing of his phone brought him back to the real world, and he looked to see who it was. Alice. Knowing she was probably going to tell him the bell was going to go soon, and ask a lot of questions about why he took off and where too, he ignored it, and lay down.

He should skip the rest of school; give the teachers and students a rest from fearing for their lives. He should skip school for the rest of the week with the way his memories were coming back. But instead, he sighed, grabbed his backpack, and ran his way back to school, enjoying the fresh air while it lasted.

He was back to square one. In a classroom.

Later on that night, Esme had pulled him aside.

"Alice said you took off today at lunch," She said. She smiled at him, reassuringly. "Is there something wrong, Edward?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Esme asked, her voice filled with happiness even though she was concerned and obviously did not believe his very convincing 'I'm fine'.

"I'm fine, Esme, honestly," He replied. He even cracked a smile to reassure her there was nothing wrong. Well, there was, but she didn't need the extra worry.

Esme just smiled. "As long as you are sure you are fine."

"I am."

And that was it. She had spent the rest of the night up in the study with Carlisle, while he did some paperwork that he had brought home from the hospital.

Alice had told on him. Told that he was broody and moody, and that he was taking off in the middle of school and coming back with only minutes to spare. She was onto him, just like Esme and Carlisle. He stood from where he was seated on the couch, and made his way to the the slick black grand piano that was placed strategically by the window, so he could see the trees from where he was playing.

Reaching for the keys, he started to play. Playing anything that came to his mind. He played Esme's song just to please his surrogate mother, just so she wouldn't bother him, and when he had gotten a smile for his efforts, he knew he was safe. All he had to do was get out of the grasps of Alice, and Jasper, maybe, and he would be fine.

If only it was that simple.

It was the dead of the night, and Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper were all laughing and goofing around downstairs, while Esme and Carlisle sat and watched. Edward, however, was up in his room, listening to the soothing tunes of Clair De Lune, by Debussy, and reading Great Expectations.

The laughing and the goofing around stopped when Esme had told them to ssh down so she could talk. He could hear them as clear as day; they had obviously forgotten that he was in the house.

"Have any of you done anything to Edward recently?" She asked them. He could see her now, her eyes roaming the room, looking for a fault.

Emmett was the first to answer. "I haven't done anything." He hadn't, it was true. He always had failed to notice that there was anything wrong with Edward in the first place, not that Edward minded all that much.

Rosalie was next. "I haven't spoken to him since yesterday. He doesn't seem off to me." She was just the same as Emmett; the only difference was that he wouldn't want Rosalie to be poking through his business anyway.

Carlisle was next to comment. "He was really thirsty when I came in two days ago with a speck of blood on my coat, like his eyes went black with thirst and he couldn't talk, but, I don't know..."

Edward could hear Alice's nod. "I haven't done anything, really. I mean, he was in a broody mood when we were on our way home one day, and I asked him about it, but he said he was fine. But I know he isn't. Something wrong."

He could hear the thoughts. Everyone was waiting for Jasper to speak up; the one who could feel emotions, the one who could tell them most of the answers.

"Nothing's really changed with his emotions," Jasper finally said in a cool voice. "Maybe from the odd guilt trip now and again, but we all have that."

He made a reminder to thank Jasper in some way. Jasper could have said that Edward was feeling so much guilt that he could drown in it. He could have said about the way he felt horror come off Edward after Edward remembered his first memory. But he didn't. And for that, Edward was thankful.

"So, how do we find out what's wrong?" Alice brought up the million dollar question.

"Carlisle?" Esme asked the one Edward looked up to the most.

Carlisle sighed. "I will try, but if he has refuse to talk to the two of you about it, he definitely isn't going to talk to me about it."

Carlisle was damn right. No way was he talking about his problems.

Hopefully, they'd leave him alone. Hopefully.

Hopefully, that one memory was the last.

Hopefully.

A bit short, but hope you liked!