Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.
Note: [Beta'ed by: adt216 & vasweetpea07]
Chapter 20 - Pain
Isabella Swan POV
Two days had come and gone, and I had yet to go completely insane. Maybe I was stronger than I thought? Or maybe the new drugs that Dr. Cullen had given me were stronger than I thought.
Who was I to complain anyway? I was still alive, and I didn't feel more suicidal than usual. That must count for something, right? But, I guess, in the end that didn't matter much either.
Two days was my hard limit. I could not take it anymore. I had to get the hell out of this house soon or else no drugs in the world would keep me from going insane. Even the razors, in the bathroom cabinet, were beginning to call to me. Although, that probably had more to do with my father than it did with me being stuck in this house.
Dad had told me that Mom was coming back on Wednesday. That wasn't even a week from today.
She was going to stay for the weekend, but Dad kept hinting that she might stay longer. Apparently her doctor thought she was good to go and that she didn't need to stay at the institution anymore. I soon realized that there wasn't much I could do about it either. She was coming home whether I liked it or not. I had no say in this as Dad pointed out to me earlier.
"She has already stayed away longer than necessary because she wanted to make this easier on you. But enough is enough, Bella. Your mom is coming home and it's time for you to grow up and accept that you can't blame her anymore. You need to face and accept reality for what it is."
Yeah, reality. I wondered if either of my parents even knew what that was, considering they both seemed to live in a fairytale land where everything was peachy.
I couldn't really blame my father. I knew that. I had been quiet for too long. If I spoke up about the truth now, he would only think I was making it all up to keep Mom away. I should have spoken up and told him the truth months ago, but I had not been able to. I had been in shock after 'the incident' and it took me forever before I even realized myself what had happened.
Dad would never believe me now – no one would. And could I blame them? No. I could not. The whole situation was so bizarre that I sometimes didn't even believe it myself, until I saw the scars on my body that reminded me that it wasn't all just a nightmare.
I wish I could tell someone.
But the only one who had offered me the chance to talk was the one person who had the power to get me committed. For real. And not in some 'come and go as you please' kind of place where Mom apparently stayed. But at a real institution where there was no chance of escape. They would consider me crazy, and I would probably end up even more crazy because of it.
I guess that was the problem.
I wasn't crazy, not even a little bit. Being suicidal doesn't mean you're crazy. It just means you have no reason left to live and ending your life is the only way to go. Why is that considered crazy?
"You almost killed your mother with that stunt. How would you feel if you came home from a dinner with a friend just to find your daughter with her arms cut open, lying lifeless in a pool of her own blood? And now you're pushing her away and keeping her away from her own home because you can't face her. Are you that ashamed of what you did, Bella? Your mother broke down completely at the thought of her only daughter, her only child, wanting to kill herself. She's killing herself because of what you did to her. Everyone goes through a rough patch in her life. Being a teenager ain't easy, hell, I remember how it was. But that doesn't give you the right to end your life and then make your mother miserable just because you didn't succeed. Grow up, Bella, and take responsibility for your actions. You can't keep hiding from this anymore."
Dad was a man of few words, so when he spoke up you usually listened. Even when what he had to say was all a bunch of lies, but I couldn't blame him for that, since he didn't know any better.
The only reason I didn't have to go through the usual psychiatric investigation after my supposed attempt to take my own life, was because my mom was close friends with the doctor that was assigned to my case. They saw to it that it wasn't made into a big deal, and for some unknown reason, he managed to pull some strings and made the situation go away completely. I still don't know why or how he did it. Didn't somebody notice that there was something wrong with the way he handled things? Shouldn't he be turned in for malpractice or something? I don't care if he was my mother's friend and thought he was doing them both a favor. You don't just make a situation like ours go away just with a snap of your fingers. The health-care system doesn't work that way.
At least, it shouldn't work that way. But, apparently, it does.
The mere thought of that "doctor" was still giving me the creeps.
Dr. What's-his-face came to our house a couple of time to take care of my wounds, after that I never saw him again. I never had to return to the hospital again after that initial visit when I was brought in following my 'suicide attempt.'
Suicide.
Three months ago I never would have thought about it. The mere word would have made me cringe and wrinkle my nose. I would not have understood it at all. Why would someone want to end their life when there was so much to live for in this world?
Now I knew better. Now I knew exactly why someone would want to kill herself.
I readjusted my position on my bed. A small burst of pain shot through my leg, but it was nothing too bad. I had grown accustomed to the ever present pain now. I was just glad it wasn't as bad as two days ago, when my house arrest started.
It had all started with a dream.
I don't know where I had been exactly; all I remember is that there had been fire everywhere. I had to run to escape the flames, but as soon as I thought I was safe, I had been met by yet another wall of flames. The flames had inched closer to me, and my body became frozen in place. There had been no use to trying to run away anymore, because there simply had not been a place to run to. I was trapped. The flames had begun to lick their way up my leg, and I tried to kick them off me. It had only spurred them on even more. Before I knew it, the fire had been practically eating at my leg, and I could do nothing but scream out in pain.
I remember thinking that it was weird that it didn't smell bad. Wasn't burning human flesh supposed to smell really bad? I think I had read somewhere that burned human flesh was one of the worst smells you could ever encounter. So if that was the case, why couldn't I smell anything?
At that time, I hadn't realized it was all just a dream, and now I felt kind of stupid for thinking about what burned flesh was supposed to smell like. I was on fire, and all I could think about was why it didn't smell. That didn't make any sense. But then again, dreams rarely do.
Now when I closed my eyes, I could still see my flesh sizzling and boiling as the flames licked my skin. It was a disgusting sight. But what I remember the most was not the sight, but the excruciating pain of having being burned alive.
It was my own bloodcurdling scream that had woken me up.
Apparently I had woken up Dad too with my screaming, because he came running into my room, looking all panicky. I think he asked me if something was wrong and if I had a nightmare or something. I honestly don't remember.
All I remembered was that my leg was still on freaking fire – not literally, of course, but it sure as hell felt like it. It still felt as though my skin was boiling and I couldn't even speak because of the pain.
A wave of nausea had accompanied the pain in my leg, and I had shot my eyes to Dad in panic.
"Bucket." I had managed to croak out before I put my hand to my mouth to hinder anything else from coming out. Dad had looked at me in confusion for a second, before realization dawned on him. He had quickly grabbed the trashcan from under my desk and handed it to me. A second later, my stomach had heaved, and all its contents splashed into the trashcan. I had ignored Dad's grimacing as my stomach heaved again. After several minutes of dry heaving my stomach finally settled. Afterwards, I had leaned back against the headboard and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My face had been sticky with sweat, and I felt utterly disgusting.
And my leg was still on freaking fire.
Dad had asked me if he could do something for me and I wanted to throw that bucket of puke at him. But I had settled on just glaring at him instead. To his credit though, he got the hint fairly quickly and left the room to call Dr. Cullen.
When I had glanced at the clock on my nightstand table it informed me it was only a little after six thirty in the morning. I supposed I should have felt bad for making Dad call Dr. Cullen at that hour, but I decided against it. Dr. Cullen had told me himself that I could call him anytime if I needed anything, and right then I really needed him.
Dad had left for work before Dr. Cullen had shown up.
Dad hadn't left because he didn't care about me and my health; he had left because I told him to. It was obvious that he had been uncomfortable standing around when I was in so much pain. There was nothing he could do for me anyway, so why should he stick around?
The only bad thing about the situation was that he hadn't argued with me at all when I told him to leave. He had protested a little bit, but mostly he just seemed relieved that he didn't need to stand around watching me suffer. An outsider would probably make the assumption that he didn't care enough about me, but I knew he did… or at least, I hoped he did. Somewhere deep inside.
Really, really, deep inside.
He just didn't know how to express it, especially considering how bad our relationship was right now, with the situation with my mom and all.
When Dr. Cullen had shown up he jokingly called out "Marco." I would have laughed at his sad attempt at humor, but the pain made it impossible. Although by some miracle, I still somehow had managed to croak out "Polo" in return. What had amazed me even more is that he heard me.
He had been smiling gently at me when he entered my room – like he didn't mind at all that we had called him at six thirty in the morning – but I scarcely noticed his friendly expression. I had been too hung up on what the hell he was wearing.
He had been dressed in a dark pair of jeans – designer, I'm sure – and a beige pullover. For some reason I had expected to see him in full doctor mode, with his white coat on and his stethoscope around his neck. It felt out of place seeing him in … normal clothes.
Dr. Cullen had done his thing. He had asked me what was wrong, to wiggle my toes, to describe the pain and if I had put any unusual strain on the leg. And while he was busy asking me stupid questions I was ready to ask him to cut the stupid thing off.
I could live with one leg. Yes. I could. As long as it meant that I would be free from any more pain.
Who needs both their legs anyway, right?
At least I could seek comfort in the fact that Dr. Cullen realized I wasn't acting and that the pain was real. He gave me a couple of strong painkillers, which left me pretty much knocked out for the rest of the day.
He hadn't liked it when I told him that I hadn't used the wheelchair to get around in school. He had given me a disapproving look and gone on a rant about not putting unnecessary strain on my leg, because it could mess up the healing process and make it heal incorrectly.
"The healing from this kind of injury is a painful process, and you're only adding to it when you use the crutches, instead of the wheelchair to get around. I really recommend you use the wheelchair from now on, at least until your leg has somewhat settled. If you keep adding strain to your leg like this, it might not heal correctly and you'll end up with even more permanent damage."
Blah, blah, blah…
I realized that the added strain he was talking about wasn't because I had used the crutches; it was because of Edward. My leg had been fine until he decided that it was a good idea to grab me and drag me through on the parking lot by the grocery store.
Edward was a gift that just kept on giving, wasn't he? He couldn't even touch me without physically hurting me and now I may end up even worse than before because of it. First the accident and now this. Maybe the next time he touched me he would end up killing me.
Huh, maybe I should give him a call…
Dr. Cullen had not been pleased to hear about the incident and I surprised myself – and probably him too – by defending Edward.
"He just didn't think…" I had said in Edward's defense, and Dr. Cullen just shook his head.
"My son rarely does," he had replied before he went on another rant about my leg.
He had told me to call him if the painkillers didn't help and if the pain didn't subside. He then told me that the extra pain I was experiencing could be a sign of the bones healing incorrectly. He had basically put me on house arrest and told me that I was not allowed to leave the bed for a couple of days. Another thing he didn't forget to tell me was that he thought it might have been too soon for me to return to school, especially since I refused to use that stupid wheelchair. If most of the pain wasn't gone by Friday, I had to go back to the hospital to get my leg x-rayed.
If it came down to that, I wondered if they could x-ray through the cast or if they would be forced to remove it. What if there was something wrong with the healing? Then they would most likely have to remove the cast and maybe even operate again.
I didn't know why, but the thought of having to remove the cast was more saddening for me than the thought of having yet another surgery.
It wasn't that I would miss the cast itself. It was the pictures on it. I knew that the pictures shouldn't have mattered to me, because Alice and Emmett weren't my friends. Their pictures shouldn't mean a thing to me and I shouldn't miss them at all when they were gone. It was just pictures, after all, silly drawings they had made because they felt bad for what their friend did.
It was all about pity.
The thought, along with the pain at the time, had weakened the walls I surrounded myself with. And before I knew it, a quiet sob had escaped me as Dr. Cullen was about to leave.
"Isabella… are you alright?" he had asked me, even though the answer was obvious. I had closed my eyes and shook my head slowly.
"Everything… everything is just falling apart and there is no way for me to stop it…" I had whispered without thinking. The pain, the thought of losing the cast and the guilt I felt for putting Edward through this, was all becoming too much.
"I meant it when I said you could talk to me, you know," he had said with a soft voice.
"Yeah, and what good would it do? Talking won't make it go away and you're just gonna write it down in my file and get me committed or something," I had argued in response.
That was the truth. If I talked to him, he would think I was crazy and delusional. I would get committed so fast it would make my head spin. Dr. Cullen had that power and was therefore very dangerous in my eyes. I should watch myself at all times when he was around, but there was something about him that made me want to trust him, which only added to the fact that he was dangerous.
I thought about how Dr. Cullen had reacted when I told him about the incident with Edward. For a split second he had looked absolutely furious. It reminded me of what Edward had said to me, about his parents disowning him or something. I guess the look in Dr. Cullen's eyes proved that Edward had not been full of shit when he said it.
I hated myself for feeling bad for Edward, but I couldn't help it. It seemed as though everyone was putting the blame on him, even his own family and friends too. So how could I not feel bad for him? He was a victim in all this just as much as I was - okay, maybe not just as much. He didn't deserve to have the blame pinned on him. It was an accident. Nothing more. Why was I the only one who saw that? I'm not even sure if Edward saw it.
I don't care what the guy said. He could tell me he wasn't hurting until he was blue in the face, but it would not change the fact that he was. He was hurting, and he was in denial about it.
I wondered how long it would be before his walls came crashing down on him and as I asked myself that, I wanted to hit myself in the head with a frying pan.
Why was I thinking so much about Edward? Why did I care so much what happened to him? He didn't care about me, which he so nicely pointed out to me. So there was no reason for me to care about him either, which he also ever so nicely pointed out to me. Still, my mind was there. Maybe it was because I felt an odd connection to him now, like we shared something.
I knew firsthand how it felt to have the people you loved turn their backs on you. I knew how it felt to be betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect you. I knew exactly how it felt to have all of that taken away and doubt that they ever loved you in the first place. I knew. That was probably why I felt I could relate to what he was going through. It was not an easy thing having your life turned upside down.
I sighed loudly in an attempt to clear my head, and let my eyes sweep over my room. My eyes locked on the pile of homework on my desk that Alice had brought over for me. I hadn't even opened the books let alone done the assignments we'd been given, since she came over with them.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. I still had ten minutes. Alice was going to pick me up at exactly seven forty five. Yes. Alice. Alice was now my private chauffeur, thanks to my dad, at least for the remaining two days.
I didn't care that Dr. Cullen had ordered me to stay in bed for a couple of days. I needed to get the hell out. Besides, isn't two days one day short of being counted as 'a few' days anyway? What did it matter if I went to school a day early? What harm could it do?
I looked down on my leg and smiled humorlessly at myself.
Yeah, what harm could it do?
Other than adding strain on my leg which would lead it to healing incorrectly, which in turn could lead to having it permanently damaged.
What harm, indeed.
I had on the same pair of jeans that I wore on Monday. I still had no other options to choose from. The only other option was to wear sweatpants, but I'd be dead before I ever wore sweats to school. I put my books in my bag, along with the homework I had yet to do, before awkwardly making my way downstairs.
Each step shot flashes of pain through my leg, but I scarcely noticed it anymore. They didn't bother me much, thanks to the pills Dr. Cullen had given me a few days earlier. I thought they were still somehow working their magic, or at least boosting the effects of the weaker ones I was taking. Probably not. Maybe I was just numbing down to the point where I no longer felt anything.
I reached the bottom of the stairs just as the doorbell rang.
The pixie is early.
I made my way to the front door and opened it. Alice was smiling brightly, and I wondered how the hell one could be so happy in the morning.
"Morning, Bella, looking forward to school?" she asked with a chipper voice which was a few octaves too high.
"Always," I muttered sarcastically as I followed her to the car.
I still couldn't believe I was actually going to school with Alice. People were going to see us together when we got there and they would begin to talk. Rumors would spread. And before I knew it, I would be screwed.
I blamed Dad for all of this. It was his fault, after all, that Alice was even here right now. And it was his fault that she now was calling me by my nickname.
Alice had come over on Tuesday afternoon to drop of my homework, but it ended with her staying for almost three hours. The first hour was just me and her in my bedroom. She talked on and on about fashion and school. Every once in a while she asked me something and I gave her the same answer almost every time.
'I don't know.'
When Dad came home he was thrilled that Alice was there and he even asked her to stay for dinner. It was during said dinner that it was decided that Alice was going to drive me to and from school if I was to go back again before the weekend. It was also during that dinner that Alice picked up on my nickname and started to call me Bella too.
Alice was not going to be in school at all the next week, neither was Emmett, Jasper nor Rosalie. They were all going on a trip somewhere to spend Thanksgiving with Jasper and Rosalie's family. Alice told me all about that too, but I didn't really pay any attention to the details surrounding the trip. All I knew was that she was really looking forward to it.
"I'm so glad you decided to come back. I came up with the best idea ever for a drawing on your cast, if you don't mind." She shot me a smile before putting her attention back on the road. "How long are you gonna have that thing on anyway? Emmett said he wanted to draw more too, but I said we had to ask you first. You don't seem too comfortable around him, you know? You seem more comfortable around me. Maybe that's because I'm a girl and he's a guy. So who do you like? Do you have a boyfriend? I bet you have a boyfriend. You're like, really pretty." She was speaking a mile a minute, and I wondered how the hell she even managed to get so many words out in a single breath. She must have big lungs.
"Eh… six to eight weeks?" I said slowly, feeling slightly unsure if I was even supposed to answer her stupid questions and in what order I was supposed to answer them. She shot me an amused smile.
"You've had a boyfriend for that long, huh? You don't sound too sure… but I guess that's normal, it's hard to tell exactly when a relationship starts. So where is he from? He's not from Forks, is he? I haven't seen you with a guy," she rattled on and I groaned.
"I meant that I'm stuck with this cast for six to eight weeks," I explained with a quiet voice. "Dr. Cullen said it depends on how well it heals…"
She looked a little confused for a moment before going back to being all smiles again. I felt beyond stupid. Of course she wasn't rattling off incoherent questions because she wanted me to answer them. She only did it because she wanted to fill the silence. She wasn't giving me a ride because she wanted to; she did it because she was too afraid to say no to my dad when he asked her. She was too polite, which of course was the reason why she was even being nice to me in the first place.
Alice was not my friend and Emmett was not my friend. A few pictures on my cast didn't change that. I slumped lower in the seat as I dwelled in my own stupidity for thinking otherwise.
"So…you don't have a boyfriend?" Alice asked gently and threw me another friendly smile.
"Can't say that I do," I muttered. The idea of me having a boyfriend was absurd. Who would want me? It wasn't enough that I was disfigured with scars, now I also had the fact that I'm crippled against me. And I was not pretty. Not even close.
"If you were more outgoing and talked a little more to people, then I'm sure you-" she began, but I cut her off before she got any further.
"I'm not interested in having a boyfriend," I snapped abruptly. "Ever."
Her smiled became forced before she let it drop and fade completely.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you… I was just making conversation," she said quietly.
I looked over at her and saw that she was pouting, and it was not a 'forgive-me-for-putting-my-foot-in-my-mouth' kind of pout. It was more real than that, like she was genuinely feeling bad for even saying anything in the first place.
"No, I'm sorry," I mumbled and looked down on my hands in my lap. "I just… I'm just sorry."
"It's okay," she replied in a quiet voice. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It's personal, I get it."
I immediately felt bad for snapping at her, but what was I supposed to do? You talked to your girlfriends about boys, not with total strangers. She didn't know me, so there was no reason for her to ask about my love life… or lack thereof.
We reached the school in record time since her car didn't have any problem going over fifty like mine. Alice waited patiently for me to exit the car and then she walked beside me all the way to my locker. I had been right earlier when I thought that people were going to stare at me if I came to school with Alice. And they did. A lot.
Alice didn't seem to notice. She was just smiling brightly as we walked down the hallway. It was as if she didn't even see the other students. She only saw herself and me in the hallway.
What I wouldn't give to have her confidence…
We were halfway to my locker when we spotted Edward and Jasper walking towards us.
Alice's entire face lit up when she spotted them, and she waved at Jasper, who gave her a small wave in return along with a coy, crooked smile.
"Isn't he adorable?" Alice said and startled me by hugging my arm as we walked. I almost lost my balance because of it, and she immediately let go of me. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said a little panicked.
"Don't worry about it. I was born vertically challenged," I mumbled in response.
Edward and Jasper reached us just as we stopped by my locker. Jasper gave me a quick once-over before he went to stand next to Alice. And Edward was… Edward was looking straight at me.
Looking. Not glaring. There is a difference. Huh.
"You've haven't been here in fucking forever," Edward said with a clipped tone. My eyes widened in surprise at his comment and the others looked at him too. Why would he care if I was gone? And why the hell would he even notice?
When the surprise settled, I found myself getting irritated. Who the hell did he think he was? He couldn't go around telling me I shouldn't care about him when he obviously was keeping track on my attendance record.
That was why I couldn't help the words that escaped from my mouth.
"What? I haven't? You sure?" I asked with my eyes wide in feigned confusion.
A choked, snorting noise came from beside Alice and I turned my head towards Jasper. I saw him covering his mouth with the back of his hand, and there was a small smile hiding behind it.
"Sorry," he said and I could tell he was trying hard to keep from chuckling. I frowned a little and looked back at Edward.
"So? Where the fuck have you been?" Edward asked expectantly.
"Leave her alone, Edward. Haven't you done enough?" Alice said with a surprisingly stern voice. Edward glared at her.
"What, I'm not allowed to fucking ask where the fuck my lab partner has been?" he asked and raised an eyebrow. "This little fucking goose is putting all the work on the rest of us, so she can walk away with an easy A. Excuse me for not fucking liking it."
Alice snorted and shook her head.
"Leave. Her. Alone," she said again. "And really, Edward? You really think the people in your group are going to get an A on that project you got going on? Newton and Lauren couldn't get an A on a test even if the answers were already filled out for them."
Edward huffed and pushed past us as he walked away.
"That guy has issu-uh-uh-uh-es," Alice sang.
"Can you blame him?" I asked and cocked an eyebrow at her. She studied me for a moment, probably trying to figure out whether or not I was serious before she answered.
"Yes… I think I can blame him, and I think you can too," she replied slowly, almost uncertainly.
I chuckled quietly and humorlessly to myself, as I turned towards my locker to replace the books in my bag with the ones I needed for first period.
Who needs enemies when they have friends like that?
"You… you really don't blame him?" she asked me incredulously.
"Why would I blame him?" I asked as I closed the locker. "He hit a patch of black ice and lost control. It could have happened to anyone. There is nothing to blame him for."
"Yeah, maybe so, but don't you think you deserve to be treated with a little more respect after everything you've been put through?" she asked.
I wanted to tell her I had been through worse and I have not gained more respect from anyone because of it. So why should this time be any different? In a way, Edward was not much different from my parents, except that they used to love me before everything went to Hell.
I looked at her straight in the eyes when I shook my head.
"No, because Edward has never respected me. The accident didn't change that fact, nor should it," I replied. "And if you're his friend, maybe you should treat him with a little more respect and not spend so much time pretending to worry about me. I'm not your friend."
"I'm… I'm not pretending," Alice said, looking slightly taken aback by my comment and sounding almost offended by it. My eyes wandered to Jasper, who was looking at me in an odd way. His head was tilted to the side, and he was looking quite amused at what I was saying.
"What?" I snapped, not really liking to be stared at like that.
"Nothing, I'm just trying to figure you out," he replied and his southern drawl rang clearly in every word. It annoyed me even more. He hadn't live in the South since he was a damn kid, so why did he still have that stupid accent?
"Yeah, well, good luck with that," I said sarcastically and gripped my crutches tightly as I prepared myself to leave. "Let me know when you do, because I could use the info."
I walked away feeling a little empowered by the whole encounter. It felt nice to defend myself, and it also felt nice to defend Edward. He might be the biggest jerk on the face of the planet, but he still didn't deserve to be treated like that by his friends. Friends were supposed to have your back, even when they didn't agree with what you were doing.
I could have milked the whole empowerment feeling for an hour or two at least, if it wasn't for the fact that I had forgotten that I shared first period with Alice. She didn't even ask before she plopped down on the empty seat next to me. She turned her entire body towards me and leaned forward as she spoke so the other students wouldn't hear.
"I don't get it, why do you keep defending Edward?" she asked in a hushed tone. "He doesn't deserve it, you know, especially not from you. Do you even know what he says about you behind your back?"
"Let me guess… he calls me goose, turkey, duck… maybe he throws in a few adjectives in there too… like ugly and stupid and…" I trailed off. She looked puzzled by my answer. "He's Edward Cullen. You really think he hasn't said all of that to my face already? He doesn't care about my feelings, let alone about hurting them… so of course I know what he's been saying."
"And that doesn't bother you? That he calls you those things?" she asked bewildered.
"No, it doesn't. Why should it? Just because we were in an accident together, doesn't make us friends," I replied and she leaned back in her seat.
"You amaze me, Isabella Swan," she declared. "I love Edward. I would jump in front of a bullet for the guy, but I sometimes I just don't get him. I don't get you either. You two are more alike than you'd think."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"Because…." She seemed to struggle for words, which seemed a little uncharacteristic for someone as talkative as Alice. "Because… you both seem to agree that Edward shouldn't change his behavior because of what happened. You both seem to agree that it's okay for him to treat you like dirt. He also says that the accident doesn't make you two friends. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually used the exact same words as you just did. And you both seem to agree that the accident shouldn't change anything. Whatever was before is now. It's like you're both in denial about the whole thing. Nothing is what it was before, and it will never be."
"That doesn't mean we can't pretend," I replied sourly and turned my head to the front.
I knew nothing would ever be the same again, but things hadn't been the same for a while now. Just because things were different now didn't mean we had to change ourselves too. Who says you have to make friends and create new relationships just because something big and unexpected happened? That didn't make any sense.
Fortunately, Alice didn't bother me with her ridiculous opinions for the remainder of the period. She probably thought she had said something deep and profound, and given me something to think about.
She probably thought she had 'gotten through' to me.
She didn't follow me to my locker after class and that was just as well. I dumped my bag in my locker before I reluctantly made my way to the gym. I wondered if Coach Hunter was going to force me to do those laps that she was talking about on Monday.
Turns out I had nothing to worry about. As soon as I stepped inside the gymnasium, Coach Hunter walked up to me and told me to get lost. Dr. Cullen had apparently called the school and informed them of my injury and that I was not allowed to participate in anything that could cause any strain on my leg. I wondered why the hell he hadn't called sooner, so I could have avoided the uncomfortable and awkward confrontation with Coach Hunter on my first day back.
I guess I should count myself lucky that he called at all. Better late than never and all that.
I did as I was told and I quickly left the gym.
The halls were empty when I got back to the main building, and I could roam around without having to think about anyone else. It was nice to be able to walk down the hallways without having to be afraid of getting pushed and knocked over for no reason at all.
"I don't fucking get it."
I stopped cold and sighed deeply. Not again.
So much for having the halls to myself.
"You're out of school for days, and when you finally get back… you don't even fucking bother to go to class. So what the hell are you even doing here?"
I slowly turned around and tried to keep my face blank as I stared back at Edward. He had his arms crossed over his chest. He probably thought it made him look all tough and scary.
Okay, he was scary… but not because he was standing like that.
"For someone who says he doesn't care, you sure ask a lot of questions," I replied coolly.
"Well, excuse me for just pointing out the fact that you don't make any fucking sense," he snapped.
"Oh, I'm the one who doesn't make any sense? This coming from the guy who keeps bugging the girl he claims he doesn't care about!" I snapped back and he narrowed his eyes at me, but this time it didn't scare me. It just frustrated me. Why couldn't he just leave me the hell alone already? Like he told me he would.
"I don't care," he said with a huff. "I'm just calling you out on your bullshit."
"My bullshit?" I echoed incredulously. He nodded and I shook my head. "You're freaking insane."
"It takes one to know one!" he taunted and I could tell that he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He wasn't really adding to his bad guy image by saying stuff like that. I tried not to laugh, but my will was not strong enough. A snort-laugh escaped my throat and I quickly covered my mouth to keep from letting it go further. "Fuck you!" he snarled.
Everything that was wrong with my life, everything that had gone wrong in the past three months, came crashing down on me like a house of cards. Everything became too much, and it was the furious expression in his face that pushed me over the edge. I couldn't help but…
Laugh.
I almost toppled over because I was laughing so hard. I had to cling to my crutches just to keep myself upright. It had been a while since I laughed. I couldn't even remember the last time. It felt refreshing to let it all go and just… laugh.
Why didn't I laugh sooner? Why did I let it go on for this long? A laugh could solve everything. Nothing felt as difficult and hard if you just laughed. Everything just went away.
Edward stared at me with a blank expression. All the anger was gone from his features and all that was left was... blank.
"You're fucking crazy," he blurted when my insane laughing finally died down. I could still hear the sound of my laughing echo through the halls, or maybe it was just in my head.
"Oh, but we all knew that already," a whiny-sounding voice said from behind me. I turned my head and saw Tanya Denali walk towards us. Her heels were clicking on the floor and the sound echoed in the hallway. I was surprised I hadn't heard her approach sooner.
Maybe because you were busy laughing like a hyena?
Yeah, probably.
When Tanya reached me, she made a point by bumping into me as she passed, but I was prepared for that, so I steadied myself on my crutches right before impact. What I wasn't prepared for, however, was that she also kicked me in the back of my knee, on my good leg, which automatically made it buckle. That, along with the push, made me fall face first towards the ground.
I didn't have time to cushion the blow with my hands, since they were still gripping the crutches. I had been too surprised by the kick in my knee to even think about letting them go.
There were a million emotions running through me as my body smashed into the floor.
Humiliation, frustration, anger, sadness…
But none of them called out to me louder than my leg was at that moment. No emotion could override the pain that shot through me. This was even worse than when Edward had grabbed me. This was even worse than when I woke up screaming in pain. This was pure agony. There were not enough words in the dictionary to describe what was going on in my body and in my leg. It felt almost like the leg was trying to detach itself from my body. Like it didn't belong with me anymore.
So much for not putting any strain on it.
I was completely paralyzed by the pain for a moment. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I couldn't even think about anything else but the pain. But as I slowly got my senses back there was only one thing I could hear. One single word kept repeating over and over again. First I thought it was 'duck' but then it all became clearer…
"Fuck... fuck…fuck…fuck… fuck…"
Ever so slowly I opened my eyes - I couldn't even remember closing them in the first place – and my view was obscured by my hair.
"Shit, Isabella, are you alright? Shit, fuck…" Edward asked frantically as he kept touching me. Edward freaking Cullen was touching me. He stroked my arm gently and he tried to remove the hair that hid my face from view. "Isabella, c'mon… this isn't fucking funny. Talk to me, damnit…" I tried to clear my throat and as I did, I heard him take a sharp intake of breath. "You're fucking insane, you know that?" he blurted but his voice wasn't angry or spiteful, it was scared. He sounded like a scared little boy.
"Sorry…" I replied with a hoarse voice.
"Fuck, you should be," he chided but there was an odd sense of relief in his tone too. "What the hell were you thinking passing out like that?"
Wait… what? I passed out?
"Wh-what?" I stuttered.
"You were fucking unconscious for like an hour…." I saw him glance at his expensive looking wristwatch and then he rolled his eyes, "or maybe it was two minutes. Whatever."
"Tanya?" I didn't even bother to try to form any sentences. My tongue felt numb in my mouth and my entire body was tired. It took a great effort to even continue breathing at this point.
"She ran off like the scared little bitch she is when she realized you passed out," he snorted and shook his head. "You think you can stand? I can help you…" He held out his hand. I wanted to grab it, but my limbs wouldn't let me move them. He frowned when he saw that I didn't make any effort to move. "Come on, Swan, this isn't funny anymore… quit messing around…" He was trying to sound annoyed, but I could tell he was getting desperate. "Please," he pleaded and I tried to swallow down whatever was trying to crawl its way up my throat.
"Pain… it hurts so much," I whispered.
"Oh fuck," he said and grabbed my arms he was just about to pull me up when an angry male voice shouted. A voice we both recognized.
"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU DOING TO HER!"
It was Emmett. And he was furious.
I turned my eyes up, as my cheek rested against the cool stone floor of the hallway. I saw how he grabbed Edward and pushed him violently against the nearby lockers. Edward didn't even try to fight back; he just took it. Emmett pushed him once more, before crouching down by my side.
"Shit, Isabella, you alright? What did he do? Can you talk? Are you dead?" he chuckled nervously at his last question and I swallowed again.
"She's not fucking dead," Edward snapped, "why don't you fucking call Dad or something and I can help her to the fucking car."
"You're gonna help her? Yeah right," Emmett snorted. He grabbed my arm to help me sit up and I winced instantly at the movement.
"Don't. Fucking. Touch. Her," Edward hissed as he grabbed Emmett's shoulder.
"And how am I supposed to help her if I can't touch her?" Emmett hissed back.
"Just call Dad and tell him we're on our way," Edward sighed. They looked at each other for a moment and Edward must have won the staring contest, since Emmett backed off and pulled out his phone. Edward crouched back beside me. "Okay, you have to tell me what I can do here, alright?"
"Just… help me… up," I said quietly.
"You want… you want me to fucking carry you or some shit?" he asked and scratched his neck awkwardly. I shook my head infinitesimally. "Well, you're not much fucking help are you?" he said with a low chuckle. He grabbed my arms, surprising me with the gentle way he did so, and helped me up.
I was dizzy with pain and the entire hallway seemed to be spinning around me. I leaned against him and he put an arm around my waist to help steady me. Emmett looked at us with his phone against his ear.
"Hey, Dad? It's me," he said into the phone without tearing his eyes off of us, "something happened in school… no, I'm fine… Edward's fine too, at least for the time being… it's Isabella… yeah… she's hurt… I don't know… yeah… she couldn't even move… I just found her with Edward…. How the hell should I know?... yeah… we're on our way…." He put his phone back in his pocket and looked at me. "I can carry you to the car. You don't look so good right now, and we'll get to the car faster if I carry you."
I nodded lazily and the movement brought on another wave of dizziness. The only thing missing was the nausea. Edward let go of me as Emmett put an arm behind my knees and one behind my back and lifted me up.
"The fucking least you can do is take the crutches," he snapped at Edward.
Edward glared at his brother, but did as he was told. He picked up the crutches and followed us to the car. Emmett put me down ever so gently in the passenger seat and helped me with my seatbelt, but he stopped his movements when Edward opened the door to the backseat and was about to climb in.
"And where the hell do you think you're going?" Emmett asked.
"I have a feeling Dad might wanna know what happened, and I am the only fucking one who can tell him. I have a feeling Swan isn't in fucking condition to tell the tale," Edward explained coolly as he got in the car.
"Yeah? Then why do I get the feeling that the only reason you want to go is to make sure she doesn't rat you out!" Emmett asked with a scary calm tone.
"Because she wouldn't," Edward said and slammed the door. Emmett sighed and looked at me.
"Whatever he did, don't be afraid to tell my dad, okay? You don't need to protect his ass," Emmett said to me quietly. I smiled sadly at him.
"He was protecting mine," I whispered before it all went black.