I Never Existed
After Edward leaves Bella in order to protect her, Bella lies in a state of manic depression. Things could never be worse for her. She relies on self mutilation as a way to survive. Can Jacob Black save her? When Edward returns, can he move past his guilt and help her? Can Bella be healed after becoming completely broken? I don't think I need to warn people about the content of my writing, but I DO think I should mention that this is a very deep story. I really hope you like it.
Any criticism is welcomed. I had a lot of fun writing this am I'm pleased with how it turned out.
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1135 Review this Chapter
I spent the weekend under my covers. Charlie tried to bring
me food and water, but I resisted. I don’t even remember brushing
my teeth, changing my clothes, anything. I didn’t want to even see
my room. I didn’t want a single reminder of where I was and what it
was missing. But despite my will, nature calls and I eventually had to
get up and face the music...or lack of it.
I sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of soggy Cheerios. I had
the spoon in my hand and all but just looking at the food made me
want to vomit.
“Bella, please, please eat.” Charlie begged. He looked worried,
but he knew I wasn’t going to respond. I got up and put the bowl in
the sink. Then I rushed out the door and into my truck so he
couldn’t follow. I’d like to be anywhere but here. School wasn’t the
first place I’d pick, but where would I pick if I had a choice?
Probably a room of infinite black or just nonexistence itself.
I don’t even want to know what today will be like. I don’t need
to be stared at all day. I don’t want to explain where the Cullens are.
I don’t want anything from anyone.
I reach the parking lot and linger in my truck until it’s time
for school to start. Then I slowly get out, praying that no one
notices when Mike meets me halfway to the school.
“Bella Swan walking alone? Where’s your attachment?” He
Here come the tears. I start walking faster when I feel a hand
on my shoulder. He turns me around, stunned. Instantly he knew.
“What did he do to you?” He assumes. No answer. “What did
he do? Are you okay?” He sounded more concerned than I’ve ever
heard from him.
I already know that I can’t do this. I can’t just go on like
everything is normal and okay. I was stupid to think that I could.
What should I do now? Go home? Should I try a class and see if I
can make it? I tear away from him and keep walking. Just don’t say
anything...to anyone, I tell myself.
The first class was hardly bearable. I just kept my head down
on my desk and no one bothered me. When the bell rang I got up
and noticed many heads pointed in my direction. They know.
Great. I just want to be left alone. If anyone asks me anything I can
just leave. It’ll be okay.
I spent lunch in my truck. I didn’t eat anything of it though. I
didn’t want to be smothered by Jessica’s questions...and I didn’t
want to see the empty table I knew I’d see. I just kept my head on
my steering wheel. I couldn’t even turn the ancient thing on to
listen to music or turn on the heat. Everything I thought about,
saw, and touched was a reminder of them, and I knew there was no
way to avoid it.
The rest of the day was the same as the beginning. Long,
overwhelming, and uncomfortable. I thought I’d want to be at
school more than I wanted to be at home, but I was wrong. School
was everything BUT a distraction. I wonder what he was doing to
“distract” himself. Don’t wonder that, I told myself.
I sat on my bed and the tears came once again. This hurts too
much. There’s no way I can live the rest of my life like this. I can’t
ever be whole without him. I can’t survive feeling this much pain.
Will I sob uncontrollably like this everyday? I can’t imagine my life
any other way. My legs were curled to my chest and I noticed my
nails digging in my arms again. It felt better. Much better. Why? Is
feeling pain on my skin better than feeling pain in my heart?
I got up and went over to my desk. I pulled out an X-acto
knife that I used for a school project and went to my bed again.
Maybe this will work...or maybe it won’t. My hand was shaking a
little as I looked at the blade. Then I touched it lightly to my wrist
and I felt tingles shoot up my arm. I took the tip and dragged it
slowly across. I barely put any pressure on it. I didn’t press it hard
enough for a lot of blood to come out, just little tiny beads. I took a
deep breath and let relief wash over me. It did feel good. Maybe it
was better than my heart aching so much. It felt more even. My
heart still hurt, but it felt a little numb.
I woke up and rolled over. My back ached so much. I felt so
still. I stretched out my whole body when I felt a burn on my arm. I
looked down and remembered what I had done the night before.
There was dry blood on me. It was dark and crusty. I washed it off
in the sink and put clean clothes on. Then I went downstairs to find
Charlie in the kitchen, reading a newspaper. I passed him quietly
then went out to my truck again. I knew he followed me because I
heard his chair squeak against the tile floor.
“Where are you going?” he asked when he reached me.
“School,” I replied. Nothing more.
“Oh, well shouldn’t you eat something?” He looked at me with
“I have a granola bar in the truck,” I told him. It was true, but
why would I eat it?
“Oh...well be sure to eat it before you go to class, Bells. I don’t
want you passin’ out on me,” he said.
I nodded and got into the truck. I realized how much I loved
it. It never told me when to eat. It never asked what was wrong. It
never left me...
School was the same every day. I went and turned in my
homework everyday but that was all. I never said anything to
anyone. I never made an effort to look nice. I never took my head
off my desk. And soon people left me alone like I wanted. Teachers
didn’t call on me anymore. Mike and Jessica stopped talking to me.
It really was like I never existed in Forks. That’s what he wanted
Being at home was the same, too. I usually stayed under the
covers in my room. I never listened to music or read books. I did
my homework when I had it but other than that I was in my bed
sleeping, thinking, crying, breathing...hurting. Hurting on the
inside...and hurting myself. I knew it was stupid to do. I knew it
wasn’t “me” to do something like that. I was always the mature,
reasonable, responsible girl. I was sensible. But how am I supposed
to deal with something like this? I don’t like talking to people. I
don’t like feeling like a burden to people. I deal alone, and it’s not
like I’m looking for attention. Far from it. I’m not looking for
anything. I just want to be left the hell alone. That’s all. So that’s
how it was...for months.