After Edward left in New Moon Bella couldn't recover. She refused to get out of bed and never became friends with Jacob. She continued to get worse until Charlie was forced to get her some professional help. What will happen when she wakes up? Will she go back to life as normal? Will she ever see the Cullens again? Read and find out! I know that there so many stories out there about what would happen if Edward never came back. This is my take, please give it a chance! Please rate and review!!!!!
If you have read my bio then you know that I'm very busy. I am writing this story as I go, so please be patient if you are waiting for updates. I promise to post them as quickly as my schedule allows. With that being said, please feel free to give me any ideas that you may have or anything that you may want contained in the story. I will do my best if it fits with the plot in my head. This is the first fanfiction that I have ever written so please let me know if you like it or not. If you don't, thats fine; but I would appreciate constructive criticism instead of full on flames. Thank You. Please read and enjoy!
2. Beyond Embarrassment
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Chapter 2 - Beyond Embarrassment
Now that I was awake my days started to run together into one long nightmare. I didn't sleep on a regular schedule because I wanted to know what went on around this place at all hours of the day. The more that I knew the better of a chance I would have of getting out of here. Sometimes I would sleep all day and other times I was sleeping in many short naps during the day and night. This must've been normal for me because none of the staff who checked on me seemed surprised at all to see me lying there with my eyes open in the middle of the night. If I was going to get out of here, then I needed to find some kind of weakness in the security system that kept me prisoner.
The floor that I was on seemed to be a bit more lively than I had anticipated. During down times, I could hear a television playing sports or daytime talk shows like Jerry Springer; the endless yelling and bleeping out on that show really got on my nerves, I tried to fall asleep before it came on. Occasionally I could hear other residents in their rooms calling for staff to come help them with something and sometimes I even heard other patients screaming. I'm not sure why they were screaming, and I really didn't care; it just made me that much more ready to get out of this place. Judging by their screaming, I think that there were only women in this area of the hospital; but since I hadn't met any of them I couldn't be positive.
I guess that I could've let staff know that I was awake and hope that they would let me out; but I was confident that these people couldn't be trusted, because they were my captors. It was their job to keep me here, locked in what felt like a prison cell, with no way out. I felt like this was my dungeon and the only way out was by my own stealth. Besides if they knew that I was awake, they would tell Charlie and Renee. I couldn't go back to Forks, to all of the reminders of him; and I definitely wasn't in a state of mind that had me ready to deal with Renee and what I was positive would be her overreaction and over-protectiveness. No, for my sanity, I had to continue my life on my own; without anybody making my decisions for me.
Most of my time I spent lying in my lumpy bed trying to remember everything that I had missed while incapacitated. I was starting to remember more of my time in the hospital.
Renee had been by to visit me often, and sometimes she brought Phil with her. She cried almost the whole time she was here, sometimes in loud outbursts and others in quiet sobs to herself; always begging me to wake up for what seemed like hours before Phil reminded her that visiting hours were almost over and that they could come back in the morning. This would continue on for days until they would have to return home in hopes of another visit. Every time she would leave to go to the airport, Renee would tell me that she was sorry that I was in this place but Charlie had her convinced that it was what was best for me; and that as soon as I woke up I could go to Jacksonville to live with her and Phil if I wanted. Yeah right. There was nothing for me in Jacksonville and I couldn't trust her anymore anyway.
Phil never said much, I think he was just there to attempt at keeping Renee sane. He had definitely taken over my duties as her babysitter, for this I was thankful. I'm now comfortable that Renee will be okay without me from now on, which makes it easier for me to be positive in my decision to have nothing to do with her or Charlie anymore.
Charlie visited a lot more than Renee and Phil did, probably because I must still be somewhere in Washington state. It still looked like Washington; everything was so green outside my window. There were all sorts of trees lining the grounds of the institution and there was what looked like a forest of evergreens behind it. The lawns were well kept and there were bright green bushes under my window that seemed to wrap around the building. The sun shined a little more often, but not enough to make me believe that I was anywhere else. Besides there was still the incessant rain that seemed to come down everyday, some days in sporadic bursts and other days it would rain the entire day without pause.
Charlie's visits were shorter than Renee's but a lot more frequent. He would sit by my side quietly most of the time; sometimes he would even bring a fishing magazine or the newspaper to read. He didn't speak much on most days, just waiting for me to wake up. This is something that he will never get to witness. I feel bad, but I know that I'm making the right decision for me.
Now that I was awake from my stupor it was really annoying to pretend that I wasn't, but I felt the urgent necessity to continue this charade for my own safety. I didn't like either of the alternatives that I foresaw in letting everyone know that I was awake; going back with either of my parents to be treated as fragile or staying here and being treated for some sort of mental disorder while dealing with that scary caregiver. My only alternative would be to do this on my own.
A staff member would come into my room to check on me every two hours like clockwork. Always a different person, but I knew who they were by the hospital scrubs that they were wearing. By now I could recognize about 13 different people that came in to check on me. I didn't know their names, but I came up with nicknames for a few of them on my own.
There was The Predator, he was the man who wanted to have some 'real fun' when I woke up. I was truly afraid of him; he was one of my major motivating factors on escaping this place. He was also the main reason why I felt unsafe letting anyone know that I was awake, because I really didn't want to find out what his version of real fun was.
My favorite was Mother Theresa; she was a beautiful brunette that would sometimes walk into my room with a big smile and a few words of encouragement. It seemed that Charlie really liked her as well. She was the only staff member that I ever saw Charlie hold a conversation with, most of the time they would talk about my anticipated recovery, but I also heard her give Charlie cooking tips and a couple of easy recipes - hopefully he will listen to these and eat something other than take out or pizza.
There was also Alpha, he was a younger guy, probably in his mid twenties, but he seemed to be a ladies man - a major player - by his attitude and demeanor that he was a little high and mighty. He was tall, probably about 6'2", and had a short haircut with clean cut side burns and a mustache. He wore a gold cross, headphones, and designer sneakers in wild colors.
The other staff members were all the similar, nondescript people who only looked in my room and showed no personality at all. It was easy to predict when they were coming and I would be lying in my bed looking as if I hadn't changed status. This was easy because most of the time they would only peak their head in to see that I was still there, unchanged, and then continue their rounds.
There was one time, however, when I thought that maybe informing someone that I was coherent and able to care for myself now wasn't such a bad idea.
I was lying in my bed trying to concoct my escape plan when I heard footsteps approaching my door. It had only been about an hour since someone checked on me so I wasn't sure what was going on. Was Charlie here?
The woman I had nicknamed Mother Theresa entered my room with a strange chair. She was probably about 5'6" tall with a slightly large build and had her dark brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail at the nape of her neck, with curls of a slightly lighter shade of a golden brown cascading out. Her uniform was a light shade of pink and she was wearing white and pink sneakers that matched perfectly. The chair looked similar to a wheelchair, but it had deep blue mesh fabric on it instead of the normal, sturdy looking vinyl and smaller wheels like what you would see on a rolling cart.
"Good morning Isabella," she said with a spirited smile on her face. "Are you going to try to help me today?" she asked, but I had no idea what she was planning. Did she plan on putting me in that unsafe looking chair? Did she really believe that this chair was sturdy enough to hold my weight?
She positioned the chair next to my bed and leaned over me. I looked into her big, bright blue eyes and saw the kind look in them, I was already at ease with this woman; not enough to trust her with my secret, but I was comfortable that she wasn't going to hurt me. She seemed like a loving mother figure, this reminded me of Esme. Oh how I missed Esme. But I cannot show these feelings, at least not right now with this woman here to witness. I noticed that she wasn't wearing any makeup, but she really didn't need to; she was beautiful. The look in her eyes showed her to be much older than her youthful appearance, but not from wrinkles, from a look of wisdom.
"Well I guess not, but its okay, that’s what I'm here for." she said smiling. The woman slid her arms under my shoulders and knees. "Let’s get this show on the road. One, two, three," and with that she lifted me with ease and sat me gracefully into the very scary looking chair. If I hadn't seen the depths of her eyes I would've thought that she had to be a vampire, she was so strong and graceful.
Surprisingly, I didn't fall through the chair, but I was still anxious to know what was going on. Before I could complete my thought the woman was covering me with a blanket from my bed. I was so thankful for the warmth and the privacy that she was offering me because the only clothing that I was wearing was a hospital gown and I was positive that we were leaving my room where others could see me. As she bent over me to tuck the blanket around my sides I caught a glimpse of her nametag, her name was Sandra. I knew that I already liked Sandra; she seemed very protective of me, for this I was grateful. It was comforting to have her taking care of me, even if I was lying to her by keeping up the facade of my recent catatonic stupor.
As soon as I was wrapped up in my blanket like a burrito, Sandra stepped behind my chair and started to push it out of the room. Once we were out of my room we took a sharp left and began to proceed down a long hallway. This place was so creepy; it almost looked like a hospital on a scary movie, but with better lighting. I could hear doctors and nurses behind us in the other direction talking and laughing about various things. As their voices began to fade in the distance I started to hear more disturbing noises coming from one of the patient rooms ahead of us.
A woman began screaming at the top of her lungs and it sounded like she was fighting somebody. I could hear the thud of a fist making contact and the loud screech of furniture sliding across the floor. A few seconds later I felt a rush of wind as two large male caregivers ran past us and into the woman's room. They left the door open in their haste and I could hear one of them instruct the other to grab her legs.
"Catatonic excitement is so much worse," Sandra whispered in my ear. "I'm so glad that you don't try to hurt yourself Isabella." Is that what that woman was doing, hurting herself? I heard a thud and then the quick sound of Velcro and I imagined them restraining the woman with the same kind of straps that were on my bed. I felt so bad for her.
"We need a first aid kit and a prn of Lorazepam now," one of the caregivers called down the hallway. How can someone hurt them self so badly?
"This is going to mean more paperwork," the other caregiver groaned bitterly. I couldn't listen anymore; some of these people were so unfeeling. Aren't the patients more important than a little extra paperwork?
Once we got to the end of the hallway Sandra turned my chair to face the last door on the right side of the hallway and she stepped in front of me. She then slid her id badge through a slot next to the door. There was a beep and the door lock snapped open. Sandra opened the door and a small amount of steam escaped the hot room. Once I saw the steam, realization dawned on me. Oh great, a stranger is going to bathe me and I can't do anything about it or she will know my secret. I'm really not comfortable with the thought of anyone seeing me naked. The only solace that I could find was that it was Sandra and not the Predator. I shuddered internally at the thought of that man touching me again.
Sandra pushed my chair into the hot shower room and stopped at an indescript blue locker to get the toiletries assigned to me. The shower room looked like everything else I'd seen in this place, old and outdated. There was the same tile as in my room and the hallway, and the same off white walls. Along the left wall were five shower stalls lined in small grey tile and they each had a set of grab bars on the sides of the walls and a decrepit looking grey curtain hanging for privacy. The back wall had three raggedy tan stalls with toilets in them; I could see the remnants of blue and red marker on one of the doors. Above the toilet stalls, at the very top of the 15 foot high ceiling, was a row of windows; they were foggy, but were still able to let in a little bit of daylight. Along the right wall was a row of three shiny white sinks with a long mirror above them that spanned all three sinks. Next to the sinks was a full body length mirror that had an eight inch piece missing from the upper right corner. The row of dark blue lockers was in the center of the room they weren't numbered or labeled in any way. In front of the lockers was a long wooden bench that had a few dents and dings in it, but otherwise seemed to be in decent condition. This facility was obviously as outdated as my room.
Sandra then grabbed a couple towels and washcloths and we were moving again. I noticed that we were the only people in the shower room and for this I was very thankful. The less people who would see me in my birthday suit the better. I was completely freaking our on the inside, I can only hope that this wasn't being portrayed for anyone to notice in my face. I kept my body as still as before, but I continued to have the internal struggle. Wouldn't it be easier to just tell somebody? No, not if I wanted to make it out of here and maintain some level of sanity. I couldn't stay here, and I couldn't go back home; either place would make me go crazy. I had to do this for my sanity. Sandra stopped in front of a large shower stall and quickly placed the necessary items in their proper places.
Turning to face me with her warm smile, Sandra said, "I hope that it's warm enough in here for you, I will try to make this as pleasant as possible." And with that she removed my blanket and hospital gown swiftly but gently. It took every ounce of my will to stay still and not try to run off or cover my body with my arms. I was reminded of junior high when you have to change your clothes in front of a room of girls for the first time; but this was so much worse, at least back then you could attempt to conceal yourself.
I really hope that nobody else will come in here and see me like this. How many people have showered me since my arrival in this hell? Sandra turned on the shower and I waited as she adjusted the water temperature until she was satisfied. She pushed my chair the rest of the way into the stall and began to rinse out my hair.
As the hot water flowed onto my hair and down my back I was slightly comforted. The water temperature was perfect and it felt so relaxing. I had to remind myself to keep my rigid posture; otherwise my secret would be out. Sandra proceeded to wash my hair; her touch was gentle but firm as she massaged my scalp. It felt so good as she made big circles scrubbing out the grime in my hair. The shampoo smelled like strawberries, like the shampoo that I had used before I arrived here. Maybe Charlie had brought it for me, because I'm sure that this institution wouldn't provide anything more than the basic, cheap shampoo.
"Your father called early this morning to tell me that he plans on coming to visit you today." Sandra explained as she washed my hair. "I'll make sure that you're extra clean and maybe I can even do your hair cute today if you would like that. Would you like that Bella?" I didn't say anything, although I really wanted to speak with this kind woman. She really seemed to care about me, I wasn't sure if it was because of me or because she cared for Charlie, but she did seem genuine.
"Well I wish that I could get you to say something, or to make some sort of improvement. I really do want you to get better Bella. Your doctor and father are both trying to think of ways to get you to make some kind of improvement. I know that you're hurting, but the only way to stop hurting so much is to try to move on." She was making it so hard for me to stay composed. I listened to everything that Sandra said hoping that I didn't falter in my fortitude. Tears were starting to well up in my eyes, but I had to fight them off. If Sandra saw me make either of these reactions she would know my secret.
Sandra waited for me to show some kind of recognition while she rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. "Well from what your father has told me, I know that you're a fighter and will come out of this eventually. I just want you to know that I'm here for you when you decide that the time is right." With that we entered a comfortable silence. Well as comfortable as could be in the current situation.
She then grabbed one of the washcloths, got it wet and added face wash to it. When she washed my face, she massaged my temples and got every bit of my face and neck squeaky clean. It felt so good to have a clean face, I hadn't realized before how grimy my skin was. After disposing of that washcloth she grabbed for the other one and I could feel my stomach turn as she got it wet and added body wash to it. This was one of the most terrifying moments in my life! I know that I had been bathed by others in the past, but I was a child then and they were my parents. Although I was comfortable with Sandra, I don't think that I could ever be comfortable with her enough to not let this freak me out. How was I going to be able to stay unperturbed long enough for the rest of this horrid event?
I had to do something, but what? It's not like I can move away from her without ruining my plan. I tried to find a happy place to retreat my mind. The first thing when I thought of that though, was the meadow. This definitely wasn't going to help me right now. I felt a sharp pain in my chest that fell down into my stomach. I fought the urge to grab my chest and curl into a ball right there in the shower stall. Thankfully, Sandra was looking down at this moment and didn't see the range of fear and pain that had undoubtedly crossed my face. I felt a solitary tear trickle out of the corner of my left eye and fall down my face. This can't be good; I have to gain better control of my emotions. All of my focus was now on Sandra. Will she notice my crying?
My tears continued to fall without making a sound. I tried to fight them off, but the more that I fought the harder they fell. She washed me quickly but thoroughly, and finally the hardest part was over. Sandra didn't seem to notice my tears at all, hopefully she thought that they were just drops of water; we were in the shower after all.
When Sandra was done rinsing the soap off of my body she leaned forward and turned off the shower. In that same second I heard a muffled beep and then the door to the shower room opened.
"Hey Sandy, do you need any help in here?" I instantly knew whose voice this was, The Predator. My mind started to panic. There was no way that I was going to be able to keep this going if he came near me when I was in this position.
"No Matt, get out of here! I can handle Isabella on my own!" Sandra yelled, obviously almost as upset as I was. She took a protective step in front of me and covered my naked body with a large towel. Did she know what kind of man that Matt was? Whether she did or not, at least she was shielding me from him.
"Okay, okay," Matt raised his hands and took a step back as if surrendering. "I get it. I was just trying to be helpful."
"Well go be 'helpful' somewhere else!" she snarled back.
Matt left the shower room mumbling under his breath. I couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but it was something about being menopausal. He was such a jerk.
Sandra turned back to face me, took the other towel and wrapped my hair in it. "I'm so sorry about that Bella; he has no idea how to treat people." She grabbed the towel that she had covered me with and started to dry me off, but I knew that she was still very upset by her heavy breathing. Thankfully my tears had stopped when The Predator had walked in the room; the pure fear that I felt when I was near him was enough to stop them in an instant.
Once I was all dry and lotioned up, Sandra wheeled me over to the row of lockers where she placed all of my toiletries back into the locker. That’s when I noticed down on the very bottom was a large shopping bag filled with my very own clothes! I couldn't be sure how many clothes I had in this bag since I could only see through a corner at the top; but it was definitely my clothes, I recognized my blue hoodie. Hopefully there was at least one whole outfit, probably the outfit that I showed up here in.
Sandra began to dig through the locker; she grabbed a fresh hospital gown and quickly dressed me in it. It felt so good to be clean and wearing a fresh gown, although I would have preferred my own clothes. She then wheeled me over to the full length mirror on the wall by the sinks. "I think your hair would look nice in a long braid," she said.
She plugged in a hair dryer, which I hadn't even noticed her grab. I must have been while I was preoccupied looking at my bag of clothes in the locker. She dried my hair and then took her time putting it into a long French braid. Once she was finished, she wheeled me back to my room where my bed was already made with fresh linens. She lifted me back onto my bed as gracefully as she had lifted me off earlier and tucked me in nice and tight.
"Your dad should be here soon, Bella, get some rest no one will bother you." she said as she walked over to my window and closed the curtains. Then she left my room and I was alone again to formulate my escape plan.