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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.

2. School

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

asked nonchalantly.

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

worried eyes.

“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.