Glass
It was as though her resolve had shattered her. But it didn't happen all at once, it came on slowly. Cracks in glass spreading, reaching out towards the edges.
And you know it's going to break. But you can't stop it.
All you can do is make sure your there when it finally falls apart.
So, you can help pick up the pieces.
The doctor had removed the stitches and staples. He tried to talk to her about steps and stages. Treatments and options.
She didn't listen to a word.
Didn't answer a single question or voice one.
And still, she refused to look at the marks. In all the time since the attack, she'd never seen the damage done.
When Doctor Harbour was finished, Bella all but ran from the room.
The wounds were still covered, though not as much as they had been.
The bruising and swelling were more evident, and in some places, you could see the scars creeping out more. Setting into her skin. Thick, red and raised lashings that I knew would horrify her when she finally forced herself to look at them.
She had hung her head when leaving the hospital, but it hadn't mattered.
Jessica Stanley had seen Bella from across the car park. She'd stood mouth hanging open at the sight of Bella, before her mother had pulled her along.
And it wouldn't have been so bad if Bella hadn't seen her.
But of course, she had.
It was no secret that Bella had been in an "accident". It was a small town, with very little going on, or so it seemed. But now the rumours would be confirmed by the one person you would rather have no information at all.
I brought her home in silence, after having tried to talk to her a dozen times.
From there it had only gotten worse.
The next day, I found myself sitting on an armchair in our room. Watching her sleep.
Just as I had been doing since we came home from the hospital.
Other than the occasional trip to the bathroom, Bella refused to get up.
Two days later, her phone had started buzzing and it wouldn't stop. Message after message. Mike. Angela. Tyler. Eric. People who she had once thought were her friends, all sniffing around for a shred of gossip. Something for them to discuss over lunch.
And she knew that was all they wanted. It had been weeks since Bella had gotten attacked, none of them had tried to contact her even once.
She had laid with her back to me. Watching her phone vibrate against the wood of her bedside table. Each time it shook, I could see the cracks in the glass spreading, more and more.
Without warning she grabbed the phone and rose up in her bed, just long enough to throw it across the room at the wall. I let it happen, rather than catching it. Hoping the sound of the collision would satisfy her somehow.
I blocked the numbers.
On the third day, she rolled over on the bed to face me. Looking up at me, where I rested against the headboard.
"Happy birthday Bella" I whispered to her.
She didn't respond. Surprising me when she stood up and walked across the room, hurriedly pulling an envelope from her chest of drawers.
"Can you please mail this for me?" She said quickly. A shielded nervousness in her tone that most people would have missed.
I leaned forward and took it from her.
"What is it?" I questioned.
"It's my withdrawal letter." She told me as she turned and left room, heading towards the bathroom.
I looked down at the letter, addressed to Forks High School and instantly rose to my feet. I opened the bathroom door; she stood over the sink brushing her teeth.
"Bella when did-"
"I did it when you were downstairs talking to Esme." She said simply, in between brushes.
The same day she'd seen Jessica.
"I Just filled out a form. It was easy, really." She sounded so casual about it. So incredibly unbothered.
The cracks in glass spread even further.
"You can't do this Bella".
She rinsed her mouth and turned to face me, leaning against the sink. "I'm eighteen. I can."
"Just because Jessica-."
She smiled and shook her head as I spoke, before cutting her me off. "I've missed most of my senior year."
"You could make up the work. I'd help you." I told her, pleading for her to stop this.
She laughed dryly and shook her head, as though I was being ridiculous. "I'm never, going back there." She said stepping past me.
"It's suicide." She muttered as headed down the stairs.
I followed after her. I didn't know weather to be happy she was upright for the first time in days, or concerned for the choices she was making, when I was sure she was in no state to be making them.
I found her in laundry room going through the clean clothes that hadn't yet been folded.
She pulled out a pair of jeans, and put them on, lifting the oversized shirt to button them up.
"Bella, this is a mistake." I told her, holding the letter in my hand. A small piece of paper that would take something from her, something I knew she had wanted.
Her head snapped up quickly. There was a sudden rage in her eyes, erupting so quickly that it threw me.
"Edward, look at me." She demanded.
My brow creased in confusion. "I am." I assured her, taking in the gravity of her words.
She glared.
"No, you're not." She bit back, raising her voice.
She reached forward snatching the letter back from me, briskly walking through the house, grabbing her keys from the hook by the door.
"What did you think was going to happen" She asked roughly, before slamming the door behind her.
"Not this, Bella."