A/N: Warning: themes of suicide and self-harm are specifically included in this chapter. I own no part of Twilight. Also, Sydney proofread this. Thanks as always, boo. Enjoy.

VI.

adolescence didn't make sense
a little loss of innocence
the ugly years of being a fool
ain't youth meant to be beautiful?

One bright Sunday, Leah took the earliest bus to Neah Bay. She arrived at Emily's house with a bag of gummy worms and the first three Bring It On movies on DVD. It was May, but she couldn't see herself going outside. It was gonna be that kind of day—or that was at least she thought. Leah missed her cousin and wanted to make sure she was doing well.

It was Emily's brother and Leah's cousin, Michael Jr., who answered the door. He was Seth's age, fourteen now, and Leah felt like she hardly saw him at all these days. He was almost as tall as her now when she swore he was half her height last Christmas. Things just weren't the same anymore.

"Hey, Junior," Leah greeted him brightly. "Where's your sister?"

"She's asleep, I think," Junior replied.

"Really? It's ten o'clock." Emily used to like waking up early—she used to like waking up in general, too.

Junior nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Where are your parents?" Sue had wanted to tell Leah's Aunt Aria something. Leah missed Aunt Aria. She was relatively nicer than her mom; it was probably because she got the prettier name.

"Work."

"Oh, okay. It's cool if I hang out, right?"

He stepped aside to let her in the house. "Go ahead."

Leah went to the living room and sat on the couch. Junior returned to the dining room table to resume eating his bowl of cereal and watching Power Rangers on TV from afar. The house felt suddenly eerie.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Junior said.

"I know," Leah said absentmindedly. "I've been crazy busy. Have you talked to Seth recently?"

Junior's eyes were still focused on the big screen television. "Nuh-uh," he said. "You guys should come over more."

"I know," Leah said again. "We're always down in La Push, though. You can come over whenever." She stood up. "I'm gonna go to Em's room, okay? I bet she's up now."

"Okay."

Leah jogged up the staircase and went to Emily's bedroom, walking right past the bathroom where they had discovered Emily had carried and lost a baby just last summer, almost a year ago. Leah knocked on the bedroom door and waited for Emily to say, "Come in," but she was only met with silence.

Leah kept knocking. "Em," she called. "Wake up, it's me, Leah."

Still nothing.

Leah opened up the door to see Emily lying on her side on the bed, facing away from her. She rushed over to her and was about to make sure she was still breathing, but she got distracted by the blood trickling from Emily's left wrist and the razor blades next to her on the floral-print comforter. The baby blue and baby pink were decorated with red. It all clashed.

Leah grabbed Emily's hand. It was cold. "Em," she whispered. "Emily, please wake up."

Emily didn't respond. Leah ran to the bathroom and grabbed toilet paper to help her cuts. When she returned to the bedroom, Emily was sitting up, scrambling to put the blades away, but Leah already knew.

Leah sat on the edge of the bed and gave Emily some toilet paper. Emily winced as she pressed them against the cuts.

Leah wasn't used to seeing this, but knowing Emily's history of depression, she should have known. She should have known sooner. Other fading diagonal scars had covered Emily's left arm for a while, so this wasn't the first time. How could Leah have been so oblivious to Emily's suffering?

"How deep is it?" Leah asked.

"I don't know," Emily said.

"Do you want me to call my mom? She could probably get you stitched up real quick if you need it."

"No, no. I'm fine."

"Em, you're bleeding. I know what you were doing. Don't lie to me."

"It's not that bad," Emily said sternly.

"How long have you been doing this to yourself?"

"It's really not that important. It's stupid, really. I'm not even gonna do it anymore."

Leah widened her eyes. "How long?"

"Since December."

"Oh my god," Leah breathed. "I'm so—oh my god." She pulled Emily in for a hug, but Emily denied it. All Emily did was bite her bottom lip and hold back tears. She knew she was ugly when she cried, but she was so ugly to herself, anyway.

"I'm so fucking stupid," Emily whispered. "Oh my god. Is Junior home? Are my parents here?"

"Junior is," Leah said. "Your parents aren't."

"I'm so fucking stupid," Emily repeated.

"No, you're not. You're not stupid. Trust me."

Emily began to sob into her hands, hiding her ugly crying face, and Leah knew she shouldn't have left her for as long as she did.

"Trust me."

After making Emily promise her to stay safe and take care of herself, Leah caught the latest bus back to La Push that night. The ninety minutes took even longer than usual tonight. All that Leah had was her thoughts, and that idea alone left her terrified. Maybe this was just how it would be for her: solitary. She always found herself like this.

Leah sat in a chair towards the middle of the bus. The only other person on the bus was a man with thinning gray hair who sat near the front. She laid her head back against the cracked blue seat and stared out the window, biting her lip. She still hadn't dropped the ugly habit, so she continued it out of comfort. She drew blood, but she didn't care.

She couldn't find anything to fix her gaze upon besides the trees, and in that moment, she hated where she lived even more than usual. She hated the badlands—Forks, La Push, all of it.

There has never been anything here, she thought. I've lived here my entire life and I've found nothing. Nobody wants to be better, and nobody ever tries. Why does anyone stay here?

She wished Paul was here with her. After keeping him out of her thoughts, remaining low-key, and convinced that she definitely wouldn't see him again, she finally let her feelings out on that bus. She was afraid there would be too much emotion that the bus would explode.

She wished Paul was here right now so she could punch him in the face for throwing the world out of orbit. Everyone that Leah knew was in a retrograde now that Paul was gone—everything had gone backwards. But who allowed him to have that much power? Who gave him the authority to have that much of an effect on the rest of them? To her, it just didn't made any sense.

She supposed it was partially a good thing that he left. She got the full ride sports scholarship at UPenn on an early admission. She had a guaranteed spot to play for a big bad Ivy League school. She felt like that wouldn't have happened if he was there. In all honesty, with Paul around, she might have lost some focus. (It still really hurt her pride to admit this.)

Leah couldn't help but blame everything on Paul. He had always been there, always been the be-all and end-all of everything in her world, and this was the exact same thing except he was gone. The truth remained in front of her, next to her, and all around her.

His absence was destroying everything.

Who allowed him to have that much power?

A/N: If this chapter was hard to read for you, it was even harder for me to write, for personal reasons. And I know nothing really happened in this chapter, but plenty does in the next few. Stay tuned!

Thank you for the follows, favorites, and reviews. They are always appreciated,

HS