Trigger Warning: This story contains scenes of domestic violence, and physical and emotional abuse. The main character was in an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend, who hurt her both physically and mentally. The story also depicts the main character's struggle to escape from the abuse and find love and healing with another person. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with caution. If you are experiencing domestic violence or need help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or visit their website. You are not alone, and you deserve to be safe and happy.

Chapter 6

BELLA

Despite the agony, I pushed myself up from the floor where Chris had left me in a bloody heap. How long had I been lying there, unconscious and vulnerable? The room shrouded me in darkness, a suffocating blanket that weighed on my chest. I couldn't see the extent of my injuries, but I felt them with every breath, every movement, every heartbeat. A pain ripped through my entire being, a relentless reminder of the violence I had endured. A disorienting symphony of ringing, buzzing, and thumping rang in my ears, drowning out any coherent thought.

I couldn't understand his motives, his cruelty. Had I done something wrong? Had I provoked him in some way?

Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the blood that dripped from my nose and mouth. The metallic taste of iron filled my tongue, making me gag. I staggered to my feet, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness that threatened to upend my fragile stability. My stomach churned within me as if it were staging a revolt, ready to expel its contents at any moment. I needed help, desperately. Edward's apartment beckoned from two floors below. It was a beacon of hope in this sea of darkness. With a determined resolve, I made my way from my bedroom to the front door, praying that Chirs and his despicable accomplice were gone.

Please let him be gone. Please don't let him come back. Please don't let him hurt me again. I pleaded silently, as I grabbed for the doorknob.

To my relief, he and the woman had fled the scene, leaving behind a trail of destruction and terror. Yet, as I turned the door handle, I noticed something: the door was bolted from the inside. How had Chris gained access to my apartment? I had never entrusted him with a key, leaving me to ponder the sinister means by which he had infiltrated my home. A faint smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, a nauseating contrast to the fresh scent of lavender that I usually sprayed in my living room.

Did he break in? Did he pick the lock? Did he bribe the landlord? How long has he been watching me? How long has he been planning this? I wondered as fear gripped my heart.

I wrenched open the door and stumbled out into the hallway, leaving behind my purse and phone. I didn't have time to waste. I could always send Edward to retrieve them later, or muster up the strength to go back for them myself. But for now, my only goal was to get help.

The cold tiles pressed against my bare feet as I ran towards the elevator, hoping no one would see me in this state. A sob escaped my lips as I realized how Chris could have killed me.

Edward will help me. Edward will protect me. Edward will make this nightmare go away. I hoped as I limped towards the elevator.

~~~ BF ~~~

The elevator doors opened on the tenth floor and I got off. I stumbled down the hall, clutching my side where a dark bruise was spreading. My face was pale and sweaty, and my eyes were filled with pain and fear. I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath, but every movement sent a jolt of agony through my body. My left leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, and I dragged it behind me as I limped towards Edward's apartment door. I reached for the doorknob, hoping it was unlocked, but it was not. I collapsed on the ground outside his door, letting out a whimper of relief. Lifting my fist, I banged on the door while praying he was home.

Edward opened the door moments later. He was panting as he peered down at me with concern.

"Oh my God, what happened to you?" he exclaimed, kneeling down to help me up. His eyes widened at the sight of blood seeping through my shirt and the swelling on my leg. He wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me gently.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he said, carrying me inside his apartment. He laid me on his couch and ran to get his first aid kit. He came back with a wet cloth and some bandages. He cleaned my wound and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

He searched my eyes and whispered, "Who did this to you?"

"Chris," I replied, wincing as I moved my mouth. A sharp knife stabbed my side with every breath. Tears burned my eyes and stung my cheeks.

Edward's face hardened with anger. "The bastard! He'll pay for this, I swear." He reached for his phone, dialed 911, and told them what happened, asking for an ambulance and a police officer. Then he hung up and came back to me.

He gave me a tender grin, brushing his lips against my forehead. "You're safe now, okay? I won't let him hurt you again." He held me in his arms and whispered soothing words in my ear.

A warm glow radiated from my chest. He was the anchor that kept me from drifting away in the storm, the shield that protected me from the fire, the light that guided me through the darkness.

I wanted to tell Edward how much he meant to me, how much I needed him, how much I loved him. But the words stuck in my throat. I could only look at him with tearful eyes and hope he understood.

He smiled gently, kissing my forehead again. "Everything's going to be alright, Bella. Once we are at the hospital, I'll call your dad and my parents," he said.

I returned his smile and closed my eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I knew everything would be alright as long as Edward was with me. He wouldn't let Chris get to me or hurt me further.

EDWARD

The EMTs rushed to Bella's side and checked her pulse. "Her pulse is weak and thready," one of them said, "What happened to her?"

I shook my head, fighting back tears. "Chris." I choked out the name that haunted me. "She said his name before she passed out."

The police officer squeezed my shoulder, his eyes hardening. "We're not giving up on her," he said. "We'll find Chris."

"I need to grab her purse and keys from her apartment. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely," the police officer said. "I'll go with you. By the time you retrieve it, the EMTs should be loading Bella into the ambulance."

The police officer went with me to Bella's apartment while the EMTs continued to examine her.

Her apartment door was ajar. No lights on inside. The police officer entered and I waited as he cleared the apartment.

I took in the scene. Broken glass, overturned bookcase, and the TV has a spiderweb spiraling out from the center of the screen. I swallowed, disbelief choking me at the sight of the destruction. Bella's purse and keys were waiting for me on a waist-high table, like a silent reminder of her absence.

"Do you want to grab some clothes for her?" the police officer asked. "The crime techs will collect what she was wearing."

Nodding, I made my way back to her bedroom with the officer following. I opened a random drawer of her oak dresser. Pajamas greet me. I snatched a few sets. The next drawer held undergarments and socks.

The officer handed me a bag and I stuffed the clothes inside.

"Done."

"Okay," the officer said. "I'll stay until the crime techs are done process. If she is released, she'll need to stay somewhere else until the scene is released."

Again, I nodded.

When I got down to the parking lot. Bella was being loaded into the ambulance. I got into my car and pulled out my phone.

As I waited for the ambulance to pull out, I typed out a text message with trembling fingers, hoping for a miracle.

Me: "Mom, Dad, Charlie. Bella's been attacked by Chris. She is bad. She is being taken to the hospital. Harborview. Get to Seattle as soon as you can."

I hurled my phone into the cupholder and chased the ambulance like a madman. I knew with the lights whirling, they wouldn't stop at the traffic lights, but I had to.

The traffic light flashed red, mocking me. The ambulance sped on, leaving me behind. I pounded my hand against the steering wheel, feeling the pain shoot up my arm.

The buzzing of my phone startled me. I couldn't look at it. The messages could wait.

I clenched my fists and pressed the gas pedal as soon as the light turned green. I had to get to her. To see the sparkle in her brown eyes, to hear the melody of her laugh, to feel the warmth of her skin. Maybe then she would fight for her life. Maybe then she would survive.

I rushed into the hospital ED. The nurse behind the counter looked up at me.

"Sir, how can I help you?"

"Isabella Swan," I said, my voice cracking.

She typed Bella's name into the computer before looking back at me. "She's being settled into a room. A doctor will be with her shortly. I'm afraid you will have to wait and register her. Then someone will take you back," she said with an understanding smile. "Have a seat and a registrar will be with you soon.

I sat heavily in a chair. I didn't want to see what the messages said, but I owed my parents and Charlie more detail. Opening the message app, I read.

Mom: "What? What do you mean attacked? Is she alive? Where are you?"

Dad: "Oh God, no. How did this happen? Are you okay? We're on our way. We'll pick up Charlie."

Charlie: "What the hell? Chris? That bastard! I'll kill him! How is Bella? How bad is it?"

A wave of anger and fear crashed over me as I read their messages. My heart pounded in my chest and my hands clenched into fists. How could Chris do this to Bella? She was so sweet and innocent. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to be lying in a pool of blood, barely breathing, while he ran away like a coward.

Taking a cleansing breath and calming down, I replied with what I knew.

Me: "Yes, she's alive. Unconscious when the EMTs loaded her into the ambulance. Struggling to breathe. I'm in the waiting room of the ED at Harborview. Doctors are examining Bella. Need to register her before I can go back to her room. All I can say is that Bella looked like she'd been hit by a truck. I don't know how she made it to my apartment. I'm not doing too good. I'm sick with worry. I knew something was going on yesterday when I ran into her, but I didn't confront her about it. Instead, I gave her a lifeline – a way to reach me. Silently tell her I was there for her. Tonight, she came to me. Broken and bleeding."

I hit send before I wiped away the hot tears that stung my eyes. When had I started crying?

A voice pierced through the noise of the hospital lobby. "For Isabella Swan." I looked up and saw a young woman in scrubs holding a clipboard. She scanned the room with a friendly smile, looking for me.

Shaking, I walked toward the young woman and nodded numbly. Bella's purse was clutched in one hand and my phone in the other.

She smiled sympathetically at me and handed me a clipboard with some papers on it.

"Hi, I'm Lisa, one of the nurses here. You must be Edward, right? Bella's boyfriend?"

I nodded numbly, not sure how to correct her. She must have gotten my name from the EMTs.

"Okay, well, we need you to fill out these forms for us. It's just some basic information about Bella, like her full name, date of birth, medical history, allergies, insurance details, etc."

She pointed at a pen on the clipboard and gestured for me to sit down at a nearby table.

"I know this is hard, but it's important that we have this information as soon as possible. Give us what you can."

She paused and looked at me with concern.

"How are you holding up?"

I forced a smile and nodded. My throat felt tight and my eyes burned.

I wasn't okay.

I was frightened.

Terrified that Bella might not make it.

Petrified that Chris might come back for her.

Scared that I might lose her forever.

Meanwhile, the paperwork focused me and gave me something to do. Picking up the pen, I started writing. When it came to insurance information, I was hesitant to go through Bella's purse looking for it. With a steadying breath, I opened the purse and pulled out her wallet. It was the most likely place for her insurance card. I wouldn't dig further.

As I opened the wallet, a picture snapped by Mom fell out. It was a photo of Bella and me, smiling and hugging each other. We looked so happy. It was taken in high school. We hung out at the football game, where the Spartans roared with victory. They had a touchdown right before the picture was taken.

A shard of glass pierced my heart as I looked at the photo, cutting through my heart. Why hadn't I told her sooner I wanted to be more than friends? No, I had to wait until we graduated to tell her how I felt about her. My reaction to her lie meant nothing now.

I wiped away the tears that blurred my vision as I hastily tucked the photo back in the wallet, hiding it from sight. I found her insurance card, a blue card with a red cross on it. I filled out the rest of the form and handed it back to Lisa. There were still blanks on it, but it had the basics: full name, birthday, allergies, and insurance information.

She thanked me and told me to wait a little longer. She said the doctors were doing their best to stabilize Bella and that they would let me know as soon as they had any news.

I nodded and sat back down in the chair. I felt like a puppet with cut strings. All I could do was wait.

And pray.

Pray that Bella would pull through.

Pray that Chris would be caught and punished.

Pray that we would have another chance to be happy together, even if it was nothing more than as her best friend. Platonic. I could do that for her.