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MoonStruck

Summary:
What if Bella had no Jacob Black? Instead she was really sent to a mental institution, but for a different reason. She literally forgot everything about her past. But, of course, for Bella, the dangers never seize...


Notes:
This is set during New Moon, a week after the night in Port Angeles with Jessica... or something like that. Bella finds the bikes in suitable conditions so she learns how to ride them herself. No Jacob Black in this story, sorry to disappoint for you Jacob lovers. Hopefully Bella isn't too OOC, instead of her numb state (because she eventually forgets everything), she's bitter and sarcastic.


1. Numbness

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1302   Review this Chapter

"Is it better to feel or not?
Is it better to numb your soul or let it rot?
Hold your breath and wait for the pain,
Any hopes for something better are truly in vain..."

Bella’s POV:

It had been quite a few months since Ed-He had left me. I was still numb. My friends had given up on me, Charlie was always giving my cautious looks, and little in life made me happy.

I sat staring at my cereal, trying not to cry as the Carmel coloured flakes reminded me of my beloved’s eyes.

Charlie cleared his throat, I ignored him. “Bella…” He began.

I carefully rested my spoon against the inside of my bowl, showing him I was paying attention without looking up.

He cleared his throat again to gain his confidence. “Bella… I think you should go to Jacksonville… to your mother… We both know this isn’t going to get any better.”

“No,” I replied in a monotone, hoarse voice, for not having used it in a while.

“Bella,” he said, getting irritated, “You need help, you aren’t getting any better!”

“No,” I replied again, still without looking up.

He sighed in exasperation and I felt his gaze penetrating my face from behind my long walls of hair. “Even I’m not sure if your mother can help this,” he mused, “So I think you should get… hospitalized.” He winced.

I felt my eyes narrow slightly. “No.”

“Bella, this is not a request, this is a demand!”

I growled at him, a trait I picked up from… Him. Just thinking of Him brought a whole fresh round of pain. “So you want me checked into an asylum?”

He was obviously taken aback by my venomous tone and more-than-one-word response. He drew in a deep breath and murmured, “I think this is the only way to help you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, Bells, you’re not…” He trailed off.

“I’m fine,” I gritted my teeth. I was slightly surprised at myself; this was the first emotion I’d shown in months.

“Fine,” he snapped, “But if you don’t get better soon, you’re getting checked in. No ifs, an’s, or buts.”

I abruptly got up and placed my un-eaten bowl of cereal into the sink. I grabbed my keys, headed to my truck, and got in, carefully avoiding my gaze from the broken place where I took my stereo out.

I wasn’t really paying attention, and I soon found out I was on a street that did not lead to work at all, instead quite the opposite. I parked my car for a few minutes to clear my senses, and I looked out the window. Something red caught my eye; a motorcycle. That would be great to bring on my hallucinations! It wasn’t exactly new but it looked like it could work.

I got out of the car and saw a FREE sign taped to the handlebars. With a shifty glance right and left to make sure no one was watching, I pulled the bike into my truck’s bed. Luckily Charlie would be out so he wouldn’t see it.

I quickly drove home, ignoring the fact that I was missing my shift for Newton’s, and raced upstairs onto the computer. After it slowly loaded I researched as much as I could on motorcycles. I printed off a couple sheets, including how to actually drive one, and set out for the front yard. I carefully pulled the motorcycle back out of the bed and placed it on the ground.

After memorizing how to work it for a few minutes, I hopped on and carefully started it. It roared underneath me, reminding me of His roars. NO, I mentally slapped myself, do not think of Him!

I carefully revved the engine again… waiting…

“Bella…” Ah, there it was.

I grinned and revved it again, harder.

“Bella, don’t do this,” he pleaded softly.

I ‘peddled-to-the-meddled’ the bike and it went peeling off the curb, spitting some loose asphalt behind it.

Goddamnit Bella! Stop!” If he was in front of me now his eyes definitely would have been as black as pitch.

I turned sharply around the corner and recklessly raced around the block a few times, ignoring the meaning behind my love’s words and instead trying to commit his voice to memory.

It took a few weeks to perfect the art of how to drive The Beast, my dubbed nickname for it, but after a couple hours each day I successfully mastered it.

I decided to go for a quick drive around the block, to keep up on my training. Charlie hadn’t found out about my motorcycle, and nobody else seemed to, but I made sure to be fast just in case.

After doing a block I figured I could add another one. Mine as well, even though Edward’s voice had long since faded, seeing as how I now know how to drive it.

But it startled me when I could hear his voice again; “Bella!” he screeched, yet it still sounded like a symphony of the most exquisite instruments.

I was distracted now, I looked around frantically. Surely this was not a hallucination? I hadn’t had one in a while, there was no reason to.

“Bella, no! Watch where you’re going!”

I looked up just in time to see a huge van skidding out of control, trying to miss me for I was now driving on the wrong side of the road.

My eyes widened and I braced myself for the impact of this metallic monstrosity.

3rd Person POV:

Isabella Swan went flying off her motorcycle and continued airborne until she slammed her head into a nearby tree with a sickening crunching noise.

Apparently hers’, the motorcycle, went spinning out of control and flew at Bella, whom was lying crumpled at the bottom of the tree. The motorcycle stopped moving when it hit her, and landed on top of her, knocking any air left out of her lungs.

The neighbors, upon hearing the loud screeches of metal on pavement, rushed out of their houses to see the horrific scene unfold. Amongst the panic, one sensible person called the ambulance and police, which luckily wasn’t too far away.

As some of the neighbors stayed frozen on their doorsteps in panic, some people went rushing to pull the motorcycle off of young Miss Swan. What they saw would scar them for life.

Her body lay crumpled and broken, a heap of blood and messy flesh lying like a rag doll that had been chewed up by a Pit-bull. Her head was badly damaged; you could hardly tell where her face was between all the blood and dents. Her arms and legs were positioned in odd angles, clearly broken in horrible places.

Tears streamed down many people’s faces, others were still in pure, agonized shock. Bella Swan was dead.

The paramedics appeared and checked her pulse, praying that she was alive. What they found shocked them all; a pulse, it was dreadfully weak, but nonetheless, a pulse there was. She was alive, but barely.

Chief Swan raced out of the cruiser and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the gruesome sight of his daughter. He sank shakily to his knees and took deafening, shuddering sobs. The other officers picked him up and helped him walk closer, for his knees were wobbly and could not support him himself.

“Is she alive?!” He screeched, grasping a paramedic’s shirt in his sweaty palms.

The paramedic winced, for his ears were quite sensitive. “Yes… for now.”

Charlie gasped between pure happiness to absolute grief. “Bells…” He choked out, and sobs wracked his body once more.

The paramedics carefully attached Bella to a stretcher and raced her inside the ambulance. It peeled down the street and out of sight.