Clairebear97: thank you!! I'm excited to write more! Funny you mention that, I was going to look into it this chapter, actually. I may have brushed on it before, but it was more foreshadowing really (I can't exactly remember, I've re-written the same thing at least 12 times): This chapter, I'm really hoping to go into detail. Yeah, I'm not entirely sure how to go about that, but we'll see!!!
Also, btw, do you guys want more frequent chapters that are shorter, or longer more detailed chapters that take longer in-between to post? (Up to yall. I'll go with either.)
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EDWARD POV
"Bella…"
"Edward"
Her voice was dead, and hoarse. I was… shocked. She… she looked horrible. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, and her eyes were glossy and emotionless. Her figure was thin- dangerously thin, and her shirt smelled faintly of blood. Her blood. But… her blood didn't smell… rich? Strong? As strong anymore. It smelled thin. Lacking nutrients. It still sang to him, but it smelled… weak? In a way. She was swaying slightly on her feet, and her skin was pale. As pale as- if not paler than- his. Her hands had an odd shaking to them- not fear, more of just an unsteadiness that enclosed her entire figure.
I listened to her heartbeat for a few seconds. It was slow and sluggish. It was never slow around me… her breathing was shallow, unnatural. Something was wrong. Very, very, wrong.
"Bella, are you okay?" She looked like she wanted to say something but… physically couldn't? I never wished I could read her mind more.
Her face twitched, and she blurted out- somehow still robotic. Emotionless. "What do you care."
"Bella, I care more than you can possibly imagine," I reached. for her but she slapped my hand away viciously. She betrayed no emotion. Nothing.
What had I done to her?
"Funny you say that, when you're a figment of my imagination." She murmured.
My mind was flying either 1. She was hiding her emotions, or 2. She truly felt nothing. I refused to think she'd hide her emotions from me- not that I deserved and less for leaving- but it just wasn't in her character… but the second option made me feel sick. How could I have been so blind as to expect her to react normally?
She was gone, I realized with a start. I could hear her in the bathroom… opening a drawer? What… I smelled blood. Her blood. I held my breath, quickly, hunger already carving at me.
"Bella? What's going on? Why are you bleeding?"
"It's nothing, I tripped and fell on my arm the other day, and the scab cracked open bending my knee, that's all." She was lying. I knew it, but I first wanted to fully understand her… potentially fragile state of mind, and walking in on her inside the bathroom when the door was closed was the last on my priority list.
—
She came out a few moments later, eyes seemingly more empty.
"Bella…? You're scaring me…" I said cautiously. Normally, I wouldn't voice my emotions so bluntly and plainly, but these weren't normal circumstances
.
"It's getting late." She droned on, "You better leave before Charlie comes in here, and makes sure I didn't try to kill myself before he goes and falls asleep." I shivered. She was so… emotionless. "Assuming you're real and I won't wake up screaming any minute now." She said under her breath.
She sighs and closes her eyes, obviously not in the mood to talk. I… need to talk to Carlisle, and so I get up, Whispering, "I need to go. I'll be back." and leaving.
BELLA POV
I had more emotions whirling in my head. I struggled to keep my voice steady. I saw his glazed far-off expression and took my chances at a few, shallow, cuts. It helped. I was no longer drowning in my pain. The knowledge that he didn't care- that Alice, or somebody probably had to guilt trip him into coming here hurt. Bad. I still needed more, but I concluded it should keep me till he left. That being said, I wasn't entirely sure he was real. I'd heard his voice before… I bounced between the possibility that this was real, and the possibility that this was a hallucination. Or a dream. He said something about leaving and he left. Again. He left me.
The pain plunged into my very soul, making me cry out weakly. Softly. I hoped Charlie didn't hear.
I pulled myself into the bathroom and cut. I cut away the pain, the horrible pain which was grounding me to reality, because reality was bad. And oh, this was definitely reality. I cut worse than I ever did. I didn't care. I didn't care because he didn't care, and if he didn't care, why should I care? He was my life, my very soul.
"You're not good for me…"
I cut away the distant memory of his voice. I cut away my emotion, and I cut. I cut for the sake of cutting and for the sake of my pain.
It wasn't stupid.
Not at all.
It was surviving in a cruel, harsh world.
A world where Edward Cullen had realized…
I'm not good for him.
