Beauty in the Darkness
Bella Swan lives her life in a cycle. Most of it is spent in rehab where she tries to handle her growing depression. Can newcomer Edward Cullen help find the real Bella and the beauty in the darkness? Rated Adult for talk of drug use. Chapter three up for validation!!!
I couldn't get this ridiculous storyline out of my head, so I just had to write it down. For faster chapters, read and review on fanfiction.net
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I hummed aimlessly as I stared in the over-sized mirror and fine-tuned my out of control hair. I was in desperate need of a haircut; the messy style I was observing now proved that statement. But for some strange and deluded reason, I couldn’t bear to tear myself away from this dishevelled bronze mayhem. It was a kind of icon for me, it was my personal trait that made me, well me. I don’t think my family had seen myself, Edward Cullen, with “neat” hair in quite some time. Since high school, this had been the hair that the girls drooled over and I supposed I was too stubborn and self-absorbed, you could say, to part with it.
I sighed loudly, chuckling to myself that I had spent almost five minutes thinking about my hair. But it was better than thinking about what was to come in little over five hours. It was for my own good, I knew that. My own reflection in the mirror was prime evidence of how this was for my own good. My once lively emerald eyes, were tired and worn, bloodshot to oblivion; and large purple-grey circles drooped below them. Light stubble inhabited my lower cheeks and chin, again, something I refused to part with although I knew that it was probably a good idea to.
My fingers shook slightly and I scolded them immediately. I wasn’t quite sure if it was nervousness, or boredom, or withdrawal symptoms that forced them to shake, but I knew what I would usually do to stop it. I would usually get high. It sounded like such a typical young guy thing, the typical thing that elders would shake their heads at. I was throwing away my life for drugs; I knew how careless it was - well, the civilized side of my brain knew this. I couldn’t describe why I wanted this lifestyle, the drugs, the parties, the alcohol - I just did.
At first, it was fine. It was the final year of high school and I was happy - as happy as any teenager would be without a significant other. I didn’t expect to find true love or anything, just something nice. I had one or two friends, but wasn’t particularly popular. My only past-time that I enjoyed was playing the piano and reading, and I was fine with that. Sometimes I craved the attention that my older brother, Emmett, received but, to be honest, I didn’t know if I could deal with that sort of attention. Sure, I received a few flattering gazes - that was it, but even that embarrassed me. I’d much rather compose a new song than go out and get totally drunk.
That soon changed, though. I made the football team, along with some unwelcome friends. Lauren, Jess, James, Mike, Tanya and Victoria were not the best people to be friends with. They changed the person I was, and I hated them for it. Instead of playing piano, I listened to party dance shit. Instead of reading, I got so drunk I couldn’t even remember my name. Instead of being at home with my loving family, I decided to get high and nurse my injuries the next day. I was hurting my family and not even caring. I thought that this was the kind of person people liked, but I was wrong.
I wanted to change back to who I was, not the person that someone like Tanya wanted me to be. I was 20 years old, nursing a heavy drug addiction and no college tuition. I tried to quit, truly I did, but I just wasn’t strong enough and I hated to admit that. I was a vile person who couldn’t stop taking disgusting chemicals to make me high and what made me worse was that I saw the toll it was taking on our family.
That was why I went to Carlisle. I knew, out of everyone, that my father would help me. I knew that Esme would try, but Carlisle was more qualified in this area. He was a doctor, a prestigious one at that and knew ways to help any patient. If he couldn’t, he would research until he could. He was a good man, and more than likely, loved me far more than I deserved. He scoured the internet and his doctor friends to find the best rehabilitation centre for me and once he had found it, nearer than expected, he phoned up and arranged all the details - all I needed to do was pack.
I gazed around my crowded room, looking at the few bags of luggage I was to be taking on this three month course. I couldn’t believe the day had arrived and I didn’t know whether the date was a good thing or not. I knew I had to help myself but I also didn’t want to go. No doubt there would be talks with councillors and such like, and I didn’t really feel like sharing my story. And did they expect you to socialize when you were there? Or was it a lone thing?
I was getting frustrated by the thought of it, so decided to sit on my crème sofa and watch some non-troubling television. It helped - for about an hour. That was until my brain was took over by the things I was trying to avoid. Drugs, parties, sex - everything I had tried to avoid today of all days. I didn’t want to think about it, especially the drugs. I wanted to conquer this stupid addiction. I wanted to make something of my life. I wanted to get a good job that I enjoyed. I wanted to have a family eventually and I knew I couldn’t achieve any of this without losing this habit. So I was going to.
Even though my body was craving for the substances I had been cramming into my system, I chose to ignore it. It was much harder than I had expected it to be. Most people just think that all you have to do is simply “give up”; all I had to do was forget about it. I just had to drink herbal tea and have a smile always on my face, take things easy because it was just that easy.
Truthfully, it was nearly impossible. I could feel my veins, my blood demanding yet begging for it. My brain was whirling, trying desperately to break me. My tongue tingled with the thought of what it would taste like, what it would feel like on it. My nostrils wavered, as if searching for the forbidden powder. My heart drummed heavily against my frail chest and I could feel my pulse thumping in my ears. My breathing accelerated and my hands shook uncontrollably.
I knew where I could find it. There was some hidden, in the third drawer of my bedside cabinet in my room. Under my socks and underwear I could find one small bag of what I needed most - for emergencies. This was definitely an emergency. I could feel myself losing touch with my will power. My brain urged me to go to the drawer and I could feel my body responding to the taunts.
What harm could it do now? Just one little bit.
I grunted and clenched my teeth together. A large migraine invaded into the unhealthy mix, leaving me cringing from the bright light of the sunlight filtering into the shaded room. I stumbled quickly to the large window, bringing the curtains closed in a flash. But it wasn’t helping. My need for the drugs and the withdrawal symptoms were becoming too much; I knew it was only a matter of time before I gave up.
I staggered to the telephone, begging that the caller would pick up. I dialled the numbers in, simply from memory which I was surprised at seen as my brain didn’t seem to be doing anything else correctly. I waited patiently as the annoying rings prodded heavily at my ears. I massaged my throbbing head, praying that this gesture would make it all go away.
“Hello!” a bright voice chirped louder than I expected.
“Alice,” I mumbled uncertainly into the receiver.
“Edward? Is that you?” she inquired, her pitch rocketing down.
“Yes, Alice. I need your help,” I whimpered.
“I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” she murmured before hanging up.
Under 5 minutes later, I heard a soft knocking on my apartment door. I swung it open, wincing at the unwelcome light. She charged in, wrapping her gentle arms around my weak form, slamming the door in the process. I felt the tears welling up in my stinging eyes at this simple gesture, and I hoped that it wouldn’t overflow. She sensed that I needed a moment so she dragged me over to the sofa, never once letting go. I felt the shudders thunder through my unstable body, and I didn’t attempt to muffle my loud sobs. She soothed me, in her perfect Alice way, playing softly with my bronze hair - whispering small words of encouragement and love.
I straightened up after my sobbing deceased, sniffing and wheezing at the unexpected emotional rollercoaster ;I stared carefully at her immobile face. My eyes flickered to the shoulder where my head had rested and I sighed. I wiped apologetically at the sodden purple cotton, never leaving her worried eyes.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, Edward?” she whispered.
I nodded at my sister, knowing I could trust her completely.
“I… I thought that I could stop. I thought that I could simply get over this myself. But I can’t, Alice. I couldn’t even wait 4 hours by myself. I needed it, I needed that high more than ever. I…I just need someone, right now,” I mumbled, utterly ashamed at my weakness.
A small smile played at her lips.
“What are you smiling at, Alice?” I demanded, not finding any of this fucked up situation remotely funny.
“Edward, I’m just so proud of you,” she announced.
I felt my face contort into confusion, I was mystified as to why she would be proud at my weakness.
“You resisted, Edward. It was so very hard, and you were close, unbearably close. But you never gave in, you rang someone you needed instead. You admitted you can’t do this alone. Trust me, Edward. That is something to be proud of.”
I smiled meekly.
She sighed as she twirled a stray strand of hair around her small finger. She grimaced at my hair and choice of attire but opted to keep her mouth shut - which I greatly appreciated. She gazed around the full room, her eyes finally resting on the bags packed neatly in the corner. The atmosphere had changed in the room and it took me some time to realize that she was waiting expectantly for me to talk.
“Alice, could you, maybe, wait with me until Carlisle comes for me. I could really use some time with my sister,” I stammered.
I felt a salty bead of swear run down my neck, and I slowly realized that my terrible migraine had disappeared.
“Of course, Edward. I’m always here for you,”
And so we sat, talking aimlessly about her life that I had missed while I struggled with this addiction. I learnt that she had finally been accepted into the university of her choice, the perfect one for her fashion designing. She had made 10 friends already and had a huge birthday party 2 months ago to celebrate her 19th birthday, which left me reeling at the thought that I had forgotten my own sisters birthday.
“Edward? What’s wrong?” she asked, worriedly.
I shook my head. “I’ve just missed so much Alice. I wasn’t there, ever. I missed your birthday - I never even got you a card or even rang you. I missed when you got accepted into that university you’ve been dreaming of since you were thirteen years old. I missed Emmett finally meeting the girl of his dreams. I missed mom and dad’s anniversary. And I don‘t want to miss them kind of things. I don’t want to wake up one day and realized I‘ve missed you‘re wedding or something. I mean, I haven‘t, have I?”
She threw herself at me, leaving me stunned, until I carefully wrapped my arms around her.
“No, you haven’t. I haven’t met my soul mate yet,” she giggled. “But you won’t miss anything else, Edward. I promise. We all love, you, so much. We want you to get better. And you will.”
“I hope so, I really do,” I muttered into her dark, spiky hair.
The time went quickly, until I heard a car door slam and a familiar voice talking as he walked through my door. He grinned at me, picking up my bags and instructing me to follow him. With a quick hug to Alice, we followed Carlisle out of the door and to my future. To the place that would fix me and make me the person I wanted to be.
To the place where I would become the real, Edward Cullen.