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Boomerang

Summary:
No matter what I do I will always go back to him and he will always let me. Because I am a boomerang, and I always return to sender. A story of Edward and Bella's tumultuous relationship.Photobucket


Notes:
AU/AH


2. Lose Control

Rating 0/5   Word Count 3640   Review this Chapter

Chapter 2

Lose Control

Jacob keeps dropping hints for me to tell him my story, but I’d rather not. That’s a long story with a lot of stuff that a 14-year-old doesn’t need to hear. So I fake a yawn, telling him that I’ve had a long day, I’m actually tired and I am willingly going to bed before the sun comes up. I get him some extra pillows and blankets before locking myself in my bedroom.

I slipped out of my clothes and into bed. I’m not tired. I lied. I just don’t want to talk about the old me anymore. But I can’t help but think about it. Think about him. Think about that last night I saw him.

 

XXXXX

 

I had just been released from a rehab clinic or mental health clinic, they refused to tell me and I could never figure it out myself. I guess it was a little of both. I had spent a month there going insane, but they call it rehabilitation. But when I got home everyone was treating me just as if I had gone on vacation. Nothing scandalous. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just normal. Well, as normal as things could be for all of us.

Edward was the one to pick me up and take me back to our place. The first thing we did is what we did best…have sex. Then despite having gone through a month of therapy and all that rehabilitation bullshit, I started to slip back into my regular pattern. It’s not easy to wake up one day and stop being yourself. I could have at least tried, but that was too much work for me. Plus, I didn’t know anything else. That was who I had been for…years. I lifted up the floorboard of the closet and pulled out my secret stash. A month clean was a month too long. I had too much time to think about things. But of course I didn’t do much thinking. I don’t like to do that. Instead, I kept myself busy. I demanded art supplies. That’s my way of expressing myself, through art. I had four loves in my life. Mind altering substances, art, Edward and my father. And since three out of the four weren’t available to me, I had no other choice. But at least they let me have that one thing. And my therapist loved analyzing all my work. It was all bullshit. I fucking hated him. I was supposed to keep going to therapy after I got home but I didn’t. I didn’t need someone telling me there was something wrong with me. I already knew that. But before I could fulfill my lust for mind altering substances, we did what we did second best…have an argument.

But then we had to pause for a party. We ignored each other all night. At least until the house had nearly cleared out. Just us and his band. Of course a lot of alcohol was ingested and the guys were passing around a joint. I don’t even think they considered not smoking around me. But it didn’t matter.

But things started to get ugly again. I guess the argument was inevitable. We could only go so long without fighting. It’s all we did. Argue and have sex.

As soon as our voices were raised the band left quickly. They knew what came next: screaming, name-calling and sometimes a touch of domestic violence, but I was usually the one throwing punches. But at least the neighbors never called the cops on us. Maybe they should have. Maybe they needed to place a mandatory restraining order on us. But I don’t mean it. As much as I want to hate him. To this day, I still love him. But right then, all I could think about is how angry he was making me and… I threw a beer bottle at his head. But I was drunk and a girl and it showed in my aim as it shattered against the wall.

My head was spinning. But I was used to it. And that made me hate it even more. I don’t know why I kept doing that to myself.

A few more nasty words were exchanged and a few more things were broken before I finally stormed upstairs. I threw open the closet door, grabbed my suitcase and threw it onto the bed as I continued to shout. It was all very routine for me. Argue. Shout. Pack a bag. Leave. Find somewhere to stay until I could get my own place. But I never got that far. The longest I stayed away was three and a half weeks. I would sleep on Jasper’s couch or one of many men whom I can’t remember the names of. But I always found my way back.

But as usual I vowed that time would be different. I was so fucking tired of that game we were always playing where nothing ever changes. I wanted change. I needed change.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and I shook him off. He didn’t remember what we were fighting about. Neither did I. But that always happened. The argument itself was never what was important. It always started over something stupid and trivial. But nothing ever got resolved. The issues just kept getting swept under the rug. So we got stuck in a vicious cycle; screaming, shouting, bruising, hating each other and ourselves. It always ended up being the same argument over and over. And the sad fact is, it was the only constant we had. Fighting, then eventually the make up sex. It’s probably the only thing that kept us together for those years.

I didn’t bother folding any of my clothes, I just threw them into the suitcase. Right then all I wanted to do is get out of there. If I didn’t do it quickly, I’d never do it.

"Bells, please," he whined, again he placed his hand on my shoulder as I closed my suitcase.

"Not this time, Edward," I said through clenched teeth, keeping up my angry facade. He knew I meant business when I used his full name, like everyone else. I was the only one who could get away with calling him Eddie. And he was the only one who was allowed to call me by my old nickname. But despite all the signs that I was really angry, all I wanted to do was turn around and hug him, kiss him… but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had decided that I was going to leave. And I did.

"Can’t we just skip this part?" he sighed, running his slender fingers through his bronzed locks. But I ignored him. I needed to get out of there and I needed to get out then. I threw a few more things into my duffle zipped it up.

"I’ll pick up the rest of my things later." I said calmly as I walked past him, toward the door.

"Bells." He followed, trying to convince me to stay. I wanted to. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with him and do the one thing that we were better at than fighting. Making up. But it wasn’t that easy. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t remember what we were fighting about. Or that I wasn’t even mad anymore. It was just habit.

I opened the front door and walked out, turning around to face him. "Goodbye," I said before placing a kiss on his perfect lips. A kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than I wanted it to. I pulled away slowly but he grabbed my waist and forced his lips to mine and didn’t let me break away. So I raised my right hand to slap him. It’s really the only way I could get him to listen, that and the fact that it was habit too. But he was expecting it and grabbed my wrist, tightly holding my arm in place. I clenched my jaw and stared into his eyes, my breaths coming in short pants as anger rose from somewhere inside of me. Without breaking eye contact I raised my left hand and smacked him with every once of strength I could muster.

He grabbed his stinging cheek and licked his lips, shaking his head. "I’ll see you later," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe as I slowly backed away.

I shook my head and turned away, adjusting my duffle strap on my shoulder. "Not this time," I said softly.

I heard the door slam and glass shatter before I got into my car. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the first number I could think off. Pretty much my only friend I had at the time. And oddly enough, he was the reason me and Edward are together-were together…whatever.

"Yeah?" The voice answered over the loud music in the background.

"Hey, Jasper," I said softly, my words dragging out in the way they only do when I’m drunk and tired and frustrated and… all those other negative emotions.

"Fuck, Bella. I’m not even home yet." He laughed as he turned his stereo down.

"Sorry. It’s just…"

He sighed, interrupting me. But he didn’t need an explanation. That wasn’t the first time I had called him under those circumstances. "Yeah, I know. And you know that you’re more than welcome at my place for as long as you need. You have a spare key. My girlfriend doesn’t even have a spare key yet."

"Thanks," I said ignoring him talking about his girlfriend. I hadn't met her yet, he seemed to be keeping her a secret. But they never liked me, therefore I never liked them.

"What was it this time?" He asked as I pulled out of the driveway. I couldn’t look at the house anymore. He was in there and I was through with him. For good this time.

I sighed. "I don’t know."

"Then why are you leaving?"

I groaned in frustration. "I don’t know."

"What did you take?" He asked in that surrogate big brother kind of worried tone he always took with me.

"Nothing." I shook my head.

"How much have you had?"

"I didn’t do anything. I’m just a little…I had a little to drink. That’s all."

"Bella," he sighed again. "I know you." True, Edward and Jasper were the only two people that knew me. And I don’t even think Edward knew me as well as Jasper. I had known Jasper longer and he had seen all of my darkest days. "Do you want me to pick you up?" he asked. I love him, but I hate the way he doesn’t trust me. And sure, if it weren’t for Edward walking in before I could have done anything and I would have probably would passed out by then but still, best friends are supposed to have faith in one another.

"I’ll be fine," I sighed.

"You sure?"

"I’ll see you in a few." I hung up and sped away. And by sped, I mean really sped. He was just getting out of his car as I pulled in. He was nice enough to carry my stuff in and not harass me for the moment.

I sat on his sofa. It was a nice sofa, good for sleeping. I spent many nights sleeping on it or in his bed, on his floor, in the bathroom, occasionally on his table and once on the outside stairs. "You look like hell," he commented as he handed me some blankets and sat beside me. I grabbed a bottle from my bag and took a long drink. I didn’t think I was drunk enough. I never thought I was drunk enough if I was still conscious.

"I feel like hell," I said, wrapping the blankets around my shoulders and resting my head on his shoulder.

"Then why don’t you stop?" he asked, taking the bottle from me.

"It’s not that easy," I sighed. "This is who I am." I grumbled and reached for my bottle.

"And you can’t change who you are?"

I shook my head. "Nothing ever changes. Look at Edward and me. We’ve been together for six years and we’re still the same annoying and dysfunctional couple that we’ve always been. Change is a foreign concept around here."

I heard a heavy sigh and he put his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. "I know this isn’t what you’re going to want to hear, but this is my diagnosis." I rolled my eyes and stifled a laugh. "Or I could just not help…" He shrugged, moving away from me.

"No." I pouted, grabbing his hand and pulling him back. "Continue-after you give me back my bottle." I didn’t really care what he thought; I just wanted my goddamn alcohol.

He rolled his eyes, shook his head and continued without giving me back my bottle. He always could be a fucking asshole. "Honestly, if you stay here, you’re going to die."

"Death is inevitable." I sighed, twisting the white wristband on my left wrist. "In fact, it’s the only goal I’ve set for myself because I know it’s the one thing I’ll actually be able go achieve."

"You know what I mean." He groaned in frustration. "I love you too much to watch you do this to yourself. You’re a creature of habit and the only way for you to break those habits is to just…"

"Start over. I know," I sighed. "But I…this is my life. This is all I have. This is all I’ve known for…God! I can’t just…I love Edward, I do. And…How do you stop being everything you are?"

"Who says this is who you are? You couldn’t have always been like this."

"Things change," I said, looking forward, studying his blank wall. I never understood why he kept his space so boring and bare.

"I thought that you said change didn’t happen?" He smirked.

I rolled my eyes and put on my angry face. "Will you fucking come off it? I've been this way for the better part of my life. I hardly remember anything before this."

"Bella, I love you and you need help. You nearly killed yourself. You would have if I didn’t-"

"I know!" I cut him off. I never liked to talk about my past fuck ups. I don’t need to be constantly reminded of all my failures. "And thank you. I love you too but…"

"No more excuses. You need to stop. If you don’t get help yourself, I’m going to get help for you."

"I’ve been through rehab, thank you very much." I rolled my eyes.

"And fucking look at you! You’ve already started drinking and I’m sure that tomorrow-"

I rolled my eyes. "Save the lecture." I reached into my purse and pulled out a cigarette. I know he hated smoking in his house. But at the time, I didn’t fucking care. "I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing."

He stared at me, eyes growing wide and I wondered what the hell he was so shocked about. He had seen me smoke a million times before. Hell, once upon a time he used to smoke with me. "Listen to yourself, Bella. Do you know who you fucking sound like?"

But I already knew what he was about to say and he needed to be stopped. "Do not dare to finish that statement!" I shouted, pointing my finger at him and blowing a lungful of smoke at him. "I am nothing like her!"

He softened slightly, seeing my demeanor weaken. He knew that was the only thing that would get my attention as well as set me off. And it did. I just never liked to talk about it. I don’t think I ever will. "I don’t want the same thing to happen to you."

We sat in silence as I finished my cigarette, throwing the butt out the window before he pulled me in for a hug. That was my one mushy moment for the week, probably the month. I never enjoyed the sappy, sentimental crap. "I fucking hate it when you’re right." I pouted for three more seconds but decided that it didn’t matter if he’s right or not. Fuck change! I wasn’t changing! I am and always will be incapable of change. Change is highly overrated. I had gotten that far being me so I was just going to keep doing everything my way and fuck everything and everyone else.

After a few minutes of silence he got up, emptied my alcohol bottle into the sink and decided it was time for bed and tried to tuck me in. But I didn’t want to sleep on the sofa that night. I didn’t want to sleep alone. Like he said, I’m a creature of habit and I have always made a habit of never sleeping alone. I scooted closer to him, my hand resting high on his thigh as my lips found the sensitive spot on his neck.

"Fuck, Bella. I have a girlfriend," he protested. I’m selfish. I didn’t care. She was bound to hate me like all the rest. He finally decided that arguing with me and took my hand, leading me into his bed. "Just keep your hands to yourself," he pleaded, crawling under the covers. I just smirked. "Seriously, Bella. Don't mess this up for me." He looked at me, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I really like this one."

I heeded his warning and kept to myself. I could tell when Jasper was lying and when he wasn't. And under most circumstances I wouldn't listen but this is Jasper we're talking about. He's the one person that actually gives a shit about me so I might as well return the favor every once in awhile. Within minutes he was asleep and I was bored. I’m a night person. I could be up all night and sleep all day if I could. It’s usually what I do too. It used to drive Edward crazy. I’ve always done all my work late at night and he would complain that he couldn’t sleep. I already missed him. I probably would have gone back to him the next afternoon.

Another hour of tossing and turning forced me to get out of bed and find something to entertain myself. I quietly got out of bed and closed his bedroom door behind me as I walked into the living room, turning on the light. I dug through my purse in search of my cigarettes, hearing my phone beeping softly. 1 new voice message.

I listened to it and felt sick as I hung up the phone and looked for something to break, finding nothing, I simply opened the window and threw my phone outside. I wasn’t satisfying enough. Sure, I knew he could be a dick. But I never imagined he could be that big of a dick. I left and hours later he had a new woman (or from the giggling in the background, two women) in our bed.

He was the emo kid that sat at home and moped and cried. I was the stupid fuck up that got shitfaced and made all the mistakes. It’s kind of how we worked. I fuck up, he writes a song about it. It all worked out in the end. But…fuck. I didn’t want to deal with it. Jasper may have gotten rid of my alcohol but I knew him. He had some stashed around there somewhere. And I found it easily. I got a case of beer out of his refrigerator and quickly drank a beer, throwing the empty bottle out the window and listening to the shattering glass with satisfaction. But who did I think I was kidding? A little bit of alcohol wasn’t ever going to make me feel better. I did more than that on a good day. So I dug through my stuff and gathered everything else I needed for my one woman party.

Before long I was well beyond fucked up. There was a really annoying buzzing in my head that wouldn’t go away and the walls seemed to be moving. It almost looked like they were alive. It was creepy. It was kind of making me nauseous. I tried to stand but the floor seemed to be moving too and I just found myself falling face first into the carpet. I prayed I wouldn't have rug burn on my face in the morning but it wouldn't be the first time if I did. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I got a small sense of satisfaction when I realized that the ceiling was falling. But I wasn’t scared. Like I said before, death is inevitable. I thought about warning Jasper and telling him to get out before he got squished but I was sure that he’d be fine, he was in another room with another ceiling. I was sure it was just God saying ‘I fucking hate you. Just fucking die and go to hell already’. And I was fucking ready. I uncapped the last bottle and chugged it, nearly choking. But I then I had nothing left to do, the party was over, so I just closed my eyes and wait for the ceiling to crush me.

 

XXXXX

 

Needles to say, I didn’t die. But I almost wish I had. Things would have been so much simpler that way.

Jasper made good on his promise. He got me an apartment all the way across the fucking country and that’s where the story ends… or begins, it all depends on your perspective.

I rolled onto my side, hugging a pillow tightly. I hate sleeping alone.