A/N: So I never thought the day would come when I wrote a Bella/Carlisle story. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the paring, I just have been working on this story for so long that I didn't think I would ever be ready to post it, or brave enough. And while I know there are a lot of wonderful Bellisle stories on the site, most of them forces the main characters to go at a fast pace or they place several cusswords in each paragraph. So I thought I would write my own version of the couple.

I should warned you, however, that the story will be going at a slow pace. Probably not as slow as a snail but not any higher than that. I will try to keep the story moving along, but I won't have Bella and Carlisle suddenly get into a romantic relationship together and then fall into bed with each other either. Also, I promise to keep Bella from sounding whining and annoying like she was in the books, especially when she wanted to make love to Edward all the time. Trust me, that won't be happening in my story. Finally, the first two chapters are like a prologue. We won't be getting into the story until the third chapter.

Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. Most M-related topics will be mention further in the story, however, there are mention of cutting in this chapter. Don't read if this somehow trigger you. Furthermore, I don't intend to go graphic on the cutting scenes, but I will be mentioning them quite a bit in the story. I'm saying this now, so there won't be any surprises later on. Also, there will be cusswords, but again, I won't put as many in the chapter. And I will refrained from saying the ones with the Lord's name and the F-word as well. I believe those two words take away from the quality of the story and I won't have that here.

Note: The timeline in the story is different from the one that Stephenie Meyer uses in the series. I will post the timeline I'm using in the bottom author's note. This chapter had been edited and seen by my beta, Goldielover. However, I would like to thank Kathy for pre-reading the chapter and encouraging me to published the story.

I don't own the Twilight series or the characters in it. Stephenie Myers will only allow me to play with them, unfortunately.

Chapter One

Surviving

(Bella's Point of View)

Friday, September 2, 2005

For the millionth time in the past twelve hours, I stared at the white cordless phone which rested upright on one of the oak nightstands. As I lay frozen on my side on top of the bed, I squeezed my eyes shut tight and prayed fervently that I could make it all disappear. I knew it was childish and stupid, but I thought maybe if I closed my eyes and made my wish, everything would be back to normal again and I wouldn't be in such emotional pain right now. I wanted things to be normal again but when I opened my eyes, they weren't. They never would be.

I still can't believe he's gone, I thought absentmindedly, my heart aching with sadness while my eyes burned from all the past tears I had shed. Suddenly, my chest tightened up in agony at the thought, making it difficult for me to breathe for a few seconds.

Yesterday evening my life turned upside down when I received a phone call from the Forks Police Station. Deputy Mark Summers had some news to relay to me, bad news that would change my life permanently. And even though I wished to forget it entirely, I remember exactly how the conversation went down.

"Hello," I greeted breathlessly as I answered the phone in the kitchen, almost missing the call since I was in my bedroom. I didn't have a cellphone yet, but I was planning on obtaining one very soon.

"Hey, Bella," a somber familiar voice answered from the other end of the line. "This is Deputy Mark Summers from Forks Police Station." I already knew where the call was coming from because we had Caller ID. Plus, we only had one Mark living in Forks and he was a cop.

Was it my imagination or did he sound positively wretched?

Something wasn't right here. After all, Forks Police doesn't call the house when Dad is working if they needed to get in touch with him. And they especially don't call you at night if it wasn't of the utmost importance.

"Deputy Mark, where's my Dad? Is he alright?" I asked, as fear and panic began to creep up from every corner of my body.

"Bella, you should sit down if you're not already. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, honey," Mark announced gravely.

I ignored his instructions. I knew it was a stupid thought, but I thought if I didn't sit down like I was told, I would receive the information I wanted faster. "What happened?" I was getting a horrible feeling about this. Something terrible had happened to Charlie. I just knew it, because I wouldn't be getting this particular phone call if it didn't involve him.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. Your father died while on patrol," Mark's composed voice cracked. I could tell he was crying from the soft sniffles coming through the phone.

I pulled the white phone away from my ear, staring at it unblinkingly for a moment before pressing it back to its previous place. "I'm sorry," I began slowly, positive I had heard him wrong. "But did I hear you right, Deputy Mark?" Please, oh please tell me you were wrong, I pleaded desperately. That I misheard you somehow. That Charlie is simply hurt but will walk away from his injuries that he might have sustained from being on patrol.

There was a moment of silence between us before I heard breathing from his side of the line. Then, "Yes, you did. I'm sorry," he spoke softly and gently, like I was a hurt wild animal and was about to experience more pain before I could fully recover from my injuries. I didn't know the reasons behind his tone other than the sorrow, but maybe he thought using a soft and gentle voice with me would prevent or even ease the emotional pain I would inevitably feel once I allowed the information to process in my brain. Unfortunately, it didn't.

The gate that was holding off the numbness and shock, until I confirmed what I heard was correct, finally snapped open. And only moments after they were released, the effects quickly swept through me. The realization that I lost my father tonight, possibly only minutes or an hour ago, slammed into me hard like a wrecking ball would to a dilapidated building.

Then the floodgates opened and I found myself drowning in my own intense emotions. I felt the pressure forming behind my eyes, and I knew that tears were only moments away from falling. A lump rapidly formed in my throat, making it hard for me to swallow as hot, salty tears silently flowed down my pale face. The news about my father's death rendered me speechless for several long minutes and the only sounds Mark was able to hear on the phone were the loud sobs that were escaping past my numb lips.

"How?" I croaked out, only able to say that one word as my hands shook violently. Swaying unsteadily, I slowly lowered myself with the help of the kitchen counter onto the white tile floor; my legs feeling like Jell-O all of a sudden.

I heard Mark's quick breathing on the line as he tried to calm himself again. "He was brutally murdered, I'm afraid," he declared seriously.

I vehemently shook my head swiftly from side to side a few times before I remembered Mark couldn't see me. "No! No! No!" I screamed deliriously into the phone. It wasn't true! It couldn't be!

"Bella, I'm truly sorry, but it's true, sweetheart. I would never joke about something as grim as this," he spoke soothingly, obviously trying to settle me down. "You know that." I did know that, but I still wasn't ready to fully accept the news that my father was dead. A part inside of me was still wishing to deny the fact that I would never see my Daddy again.

His response brought a strangled cry from my mouth as more tears fell down my cheeks. In all of my short seventeen years of life, I never knew I could produce such a heart-wrenching sound as I did then. To my ears it sounded like a wounded animal begging for the agony to stop, to be put out of his or her misery. I felt the same way.

"No! It isn't true! It isn't true! You're lying!" I shrieked, still denying the fact. That was it! Deputy Mark was lying to me, probably hoping to scare me or something. It wasn't funny and I planned on telling him so. It just couldn't be true! My father was not dead!

"I truly wish I was, sweetheart. More than anything, I do," Mark whispered, his voice laced heavily with melancholy.

I pulled my jeans clad legs to my chest, wrapping one red sleeve covered arm around them tightly while the other still held the phone, pressing it hard against my ear as I rested my forehead heavily against my knees. Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick!

My emotions were swinging from one extreme to another. I'm sure if Jasper were here right now, he would be suffering from a severe migraine from the emotional roller-coaster I was on. First I went from panic and fear, to sadness, acceptance to pain, denial, then full acceptance and pain once again. Now, I was angry. Beyond angry, in fact. I wanted whoever had chosen to take my father's life tonight to suffer like I was, to feel the excruciating pain I was going through at that moment.

"Who? Do you know who did this? Do you know who killed my father!?" The first two questions were stated quietly but the volume of my voice increased tremulously when I reached the final words, so much so that I found myself freely screeching into the phone.

"Please calm down, Bella," he instructed me gently. "I won't tell you when you're this worked up. It isn't healthy for you." I quieted down and took a few deep breaths, a few hiccups escaping as I did so, while the tears continued to race down from my eyes. I didn't even bother wiping them away, more would just appear soon after.

I felt another wave of sorrow pressing down hard upon my shoulders, trying to squish me like a bug on the floor beneath me. My chest continued to ache as I tried to fight the painful convulsions that were begging to be released once again. My breathing became labored as I tried to calm myself, both my anger and my tears, when all I really wanted to do was scream, and cry, and curse whoever took my father away from me until my throat was raw and I had no voice left. I wanted to punch something and break things so that the pain would become bearable for me, so I didn't feel like I was being swept away in a raging river. Most of all, I wanted my Daddy back. I would give anything to have my Daddy back, alive and healthy.

After inhaling and exhaling raggedly, I pronounced softly, "Okay, I'm better. Can you please tell me who did this? Who murdered my father?"

Static and Deputy Mark's breathing could be heard on the line. "We don't have a name at the moment. And we have never seen this person in Forks before. We have a description of the person, though, but it isn't much to go on. We had several hikers calling in because they saw something suspicious going on in the woods and they didn't believe it was animals involved. The men and I went in to investigate. Just as we all arrived at the scene of the crime, the woman disappeared, leaving the body behind. We have been looking for her ever since."

"Woman?" I inquired, dread starting to emerge again. There was no woman in this world that could overpower my father without him putting up a fierce fight. Unless, of course, it was a...v…vampire!

"Yeah," he agreed unhappily before describing the person. "Bright red hair, almost an orange color. The color looks like there's fire on her head. Really white, pale skin - like the Cullen family had, extremely beautiful, and around the height of 5 feet 7 – 5 feet 8. That's all we've got now. I'm truly sorry, Bella."

I sucked in a lungful of air when I realized I had been holding my breath before uttering the words I didn't feel. "It's fine. I understand completely." That was a lie. I wasn't fine, this whole situation wasn't fine. I recognized the description of the person instantly, but I didn't understand why Victoria was back in town and her reasons for killing my father.

After speaking with Mark for a few more minutes, not really paying much attention to the conversation, only hearing the words, "the guys here at the station will handle the funeral details," did we say our goodbyes and end the call.

My grip on the phone loosened and the phone dropped loudly to the floor, the back cover popping off and the batteries jolted out from the hard impact, rolling around on the ground. I lifted my head from its resting position and gazed off into space, unconsciously repeating the thought: my Dad is dead! My Dad is dead and I'm totally alone now. That's when the dam of tears burst open and I broke down once again. I rolled onto my side in a fetal position and cried and screamed my heart out for hours.

I felt like I died that night and well, in a sense I did too. I didn't even tell him that I loved him. I didn't tell him to be careful as he strapped on his gun belt around his waist, preparing for his shift. I didn't even say goodbye as he headed out the door. I never thought that it was the last time I'd ever see my Daddy again.

I remember how after I hung up and had my emotional breakdown, I somehow found my way to the living room and crawled up into a ball in his favorite recliner and cried. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure when or even how I managed to get to my bed. I must have been pretty out of it to not remember.

News about Charlie's death spread like wildfire around Forks, which shouldn't be surprising. The town is, after all, small. I knew this, because after I fixed the phone, it had been ringing off the hook every hour or so. Folks around town were questioning if I was doing okay and if I needed any help with anything, giving me their love and support freely. Despite the pain I was going through, it made me feel proud of how concerned the whole town was regarding me and my loss. After assuring all of them I was handling the news alright and if I needed any help that I would call them, I hung up the cordless phone and went back to my mourning.

All I wanted to do right now was sleep and pretend that none of this had happened, like it was a nightmare or something. Go back in time and erase this whole event so when I do wake up, Charlie would be alive. However, the fates were being especially cruel to me at the moment because I couldn't even pretend with every citizen of Forks calling me every freaking half-an-hour! Once I ended each call, I would place the phone back down on the nightstand in my room and go back to lying on the bed, staring at the device, lost in my thoughts while I waited for the next expected call.

No, don't break down, Bella, I told myself as I felt the tears prickle the back of my eyes while I recalled the horrible memory of last night. Don't break down. Not now.

Apparently, I wasn't done with the crying, even though I didn't know how. I didn't think I had any more left to shed.

Shifting so I was lying on my back, I moved upwards as I pulled my weak, unhealthy body into a half-reclining, half-sitting position on the bed. When I was comfortable in my new position, my eyes swept leisurely around my bedroom, taking in every tiny detail. My room reminded me none-to-gently about other events that took place several months ago that had shattered my heart and altered my life entirely.

Dear God in Heaven, I don't know how much more I can handle! I exclaimed mentally in pure agony.

The past four months have been an absolute hell for me. First, hebroke up with me after basically saying he was tired of playing with me and abandoned me in the woods like some unwanted hetook his beloved family with him, the family who added to my happiness along with him. I had to deal with not only the loss of my first love, my soul mate, but the only family where I felt I truly belonged. Unfortunately, I wasn't handling the Cullens' departure in a safe and healthy manner.

I may be responsible for putting the blade to my skin, but I'm placing all the blame on him for putting me in this situation and leaving me to clean up the mess he caused, I mused bitterly.

You heard me right; because of what he did to me I'm self-harming in order to cope with the break-up and departure. I had picked up the nasty habit a few days after my heart was torn apart. I knew cutting wasn't a great method for helping me cope with the situation. I know that now, thanks to my senses coming back and a very good friend of mine.

Besides, my excuses probably wouldn't make sense to anyone who wasn't in the same boat as me. Cutting yourself was a way to deal with the intense pain I was experiencing. It relieved the painful ache so all I felt was the wonderful feeling of numbness. When he dumped me and took his family away, I wasn't in control of the situation. With cutting, I was in control. I was in control of how many cuts to make, how deep to make them, and where to put them.

I am damaged already, I had thought at the time when I first began cutting, recalling the awful words he'd spewed from his mouth, which literally destroyed me. Might as well continue where he left off. After all, who would want me now? I was used goods and broken into pieces.

Just before I reached the point where I felt like I was in too deep, too far gone where no one could reach me, an Angel in the body of my best friend, Angela Weber, came to my rescue. She had somehow seen the extreme anguish I was dealing with inside. She had somehow realized that the rope which was keeping me sane, helping me to survive, was thinning to the point where I was only hanging on by a few threads. She had somehow sensed the desperate cry for help I was unconsciously sending out. She had noticed all of this when others around me couldn't or wouldn't see.

At first I denied anything was wrong when she asked me about my health. That was a lie and she knew it. Everyone close to me knows I'm a horrible liar. But as unconvinced as she was, she left me alone. Of course, that conversation took place in the early weeks of my new unhealthy habit.

The rope I found myself clinging to was thick and long in the beginning. As time passed and the rope decreased in size and length, Angela would choose those perfect moments of time to inquire about how I was doing without him. Again, I would flat out lie to her and she would retreat, giving me space, an expression of skepticism on her beautiful tanned face.

This same routine happened a few more times, but tiny changes slowly began to materialize each time we did it. These adjustments involved Angela frequently speaking with me on the subject of my recent failed relationship and the new family I had lost. She wouldn't leave me alone now once I gave her an answer, usually a fib, but an answer nonetheless. Finally, as we began the routine we had been doing for the past several weeks for the last time, Angela confronted me at my house while Charlie was at work.

"I know what you're doing, Bella," she pointed out without any preamble, with an oddly solemn and tranquil countenance as she announced this.

"What am I doing, Angela?" I questioned her, trying my best to stall the inevitable conversation which I had a feeling was coming soon. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm doing nothing," I said, denying whatever she thought she knew.

But Angela wouldn't back down. Instead she hit the nail right on the head with her next statement. "Bella, I know that you're cutting, that you're self-harming yourself to deal with the obvious pain of your boyfriend's departure from town," she declared firmly.

There was a stunned silence surrounding us as I stood frozen in the middle of the living room, quickly taking in the fact that Angela was on to me, that she knew what I was doing. She didn't think she knew. She knew. She knew for a fact that I was indeed cutting and that no matter what I did or said to cover up my secret, it wouldn't be enough. Not for her, anyway.

"You have the right to grieve and find a way to cope with the loss, but not this way, not by harming yourself," she had stated as we sat facing each other on the couch, her slightly darker skin-toned hands holding mine securely in hers.

"N-n-no, Angela," I stammered, trying to once again to deny the fact I was cutting. "Y-you have it a-all wr-wrong. I'm not c-cutting myself. I wouldn't do that."

However, my protestations attempting to contradict what she knew were fruitless and feeble. All it took was Angela saying, "Bella," in a warning tone before I broke down completely and finally admitted the truth.

Instead of congratulating herself on having me confess willingly, Angela comforted me and stayed by my side till I had finally settled down. "Better?" she asked me as I pulled back from her warm and welcoming embrace.

"Much," I replied, wiping the wetness from my face as I leaned back against the couch.

There was silence between us once again as we each contemplated what had just happened. I pondered on the fact that Angela know about my terrible habit with the knife, while she was probably thinking about how best to approach the next subject with me now that I had come clean.

A soft sigh from her broke the silence that had surrounded us for the past five minutes, and when I looked up I noticed that her gaze was on me. I blushed in discomfort at the attention I was receiving and glanced down, playing idly with my fingers on my lap.

"Bella," she slowly began, hesitation coloring her tone. I stopped playing with my fingers and focused my attention on her. "I'm no expert in this situation, but with the little knowledge I do have, I know you just made a breakthrough. The first step to getting better is to acknowledge that you have a problem and what the problem is, meaning the unhealthy way you're dealing with the break-up and the absence of his family," she told me.

Feeling ashamed of myself, I lowered my eyes to my hands, which were still resting on my lap. I may have made a breakthrough, but it sure didn't feel like one to me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I felt absolutely horrible at that moment. I always thought once I began dating that I could handle anything that life, or the guy I was dating, would throw at me. I always imagined I would handle any break-ups better than this, no matter how serious they might have been. Instead, I handled the aftermath with him in a horrible and unhealthy way, putting my life at risk in the process. I never wanted to be this kind of girl. You know, the one who has to always have a man in her life to feel whole and secure. Who depends heavily on the guy to make her happy.

I had lived without a guy in my life for the last sixteen years of my life and hadn't had a problem with it. I was a happy, strong, and independent girl who enjoyed reading in quiet corners probably a little too much to be healthy. But all it took was one guy, a supernatural being – might I add, to suck me in and make me forget all of my principles and how happy I was before he came into my life.

I'm such a pathetic human, I mused, scolding myself. No wonder he didn't want me hanging around in his eternal life. He could see how pathetic I am just like I can now.

"I want you to know, Bella, that I will always be here for you. If you ever need to talk or feel like cutting again, I don't want you to hesitate about calling me, whether it's day or night. It doesn't matter," she informed me, gently picking up one of my hands from my lap and giving it a little squeeze in comfort and reassurance. My chocolate eyes locked with her coffee ones and all I could see in them was sincerity and love for a friend.

When I had managed to get enough confidence to speak, I inquired, "How?"

Angela's eyebrow rose in question. "You mean, how did I know you're cutting?" When I nodded my head, she explained. "I noticed blood stains on the sleeves of your shirts and saw a few scars on your wrist at school once when the material slid down slightly."

I must have had an alarmed look on my face because her next words were reassuring to me. "Don't worry, Bella. I'm the only one who knows about your problem, no one else has put the pieces together yet like I did. And the only reason why I did is because I have been observing you pretty closely once you came back to school after the break-up."

Unfortunately, she gave me the bad news. I would have to get some professional help. Reaching the root of the problem (the reasons that started the cutting) by talking to a person who was an expert in this matter was the only way to help me get better. Well, maybe not the only solution. I would have to decrease and stop cutting, speak with someone when I felt the urge to cut, and basically baby proof my house so when I did stop the cutting, I wouldn't be tempted by sharp objects.

At first, I protested the need for professional help, but I soon halted my denial when I perceived the determination and worry in her light, brown eyes. I caved and a week later, I began my thrice a week sessions with Dr. Rachel Palmer in Seattle. Angela came along as she promised that day in my living room and continued to come with no questions asked. Like earlier when I was almost out of everyone's reach of help, she had somehow sensed I needed her by my side along with all the support and comfort a best friend like her could give me. I'm truly grateful for having a best friend like Angela in my life.

Angela and I didn't tell Charlie about the sessions in Seattle or the reason for needing them. I know I should have talked to him at the beginning when I first started to cut. He probably could have prevented me from going down that dark painful road before I was at the point of no return. Like I almost was.

To be honest, I felt ashamed. I didn't want Charlie to know how badly the break up, his words, and his departure affected me. Sure, my Dad could somewhat relate to what I was experiencing. After all, my mother left my father because she felt like she was trapped with the restricting responsibilities of an adult. And the normally gloomy weather of Forks wasn't helping the matter either. My situation and pain was different than his, though. My father didn't fall in love with a vampire and had said vampire's family take care of you like I did.

So I kept silent and so did Angela, even though she had tried to persuade me about telling Charlie, thinking he could help me somehow, even if it was simply supporting me at a distance. I refused, of course, every time she brought up the subject.

Surprisingly, Charlie believed my lies and excuses when he asked about various items that I'd taken away or replaced after I baby proofed the house. When he questioned me on what happened to the knives in the kitchen drawer, I calmly told him that since I was so clumsy and accident-prone, I thought it would be better to take them way. As for my razor, well, I have the plastic kind now. The blade can only cut hair; it's not sharp enough to break any skin.

Of course, there were a couple of conditions in exchange for keeping Charlie out of the loop. The conditions were short and extremely important. 1) I would call Angela if I even had the slightest desire to cut. And 2) attend my therapy sessions and do everything the doctor told me to do. Usually, that would include advice or homework she would give me.

As much as I didn't want to go to the sessions since I knew no one would be able to fix me, I was too broken to be whole again, I reluctantly admitted that the sessions were helping me somewhat. I wasn't better. No, I had a long way to go before I could describe myself as such. But the sessions were assisting me in finding safe coping methods while reducing my urge to cut. I still cut, though, just a lot less than I normally did. And there were plenty of slip ups. When those happened, I felt like I understood what Jasper was going through whenever he slipped up on his diet.

Furthermore, the sessions brought to light a few more problems that had been hiding under the surface, waiting to show when it was time. I can still remember the conversation I had with Dr. Palmer when I found out about one of them

During one of my hourly sessions with Dr. Palmer in mid-July, I suddenly realized after talking once again about my romantic relationship I had with him, how controlling and manipulative he was when I was with him. "Bella, how did you feel when you were around him?" Dr. Palmer inquired, her black pen hovering patiently over the white pages in her notebook as she waited for my response. I had to step back from the present and take a few minutes to ponder her question, having no idea how to answer right away.

"Other than love, adoration, and admiration," I confessed to Dr. Palmer slowly, carefully, "I felt like I was unworthy of being in his presence, undeserving of his love and attention. I felt like a burden to him and his family whenever my clumsy side appeared and I needed medical assistance. And when I wanted to be closer to him, to do things and experience things other couples do together, he would reject me, not even giving me any explanation as to why he did so. I felt unwanted and self-conscious every time hedenied me. To be honest, before I came to Forks to live with my father, I already had self-esteem issues thanks to some of my former classmates in Phoenix, but while I was with him, that self-esteem would steadily go down instead of up. I didn't know this until now, but I can see he was slowly destroying any and everything that showed I was a strong and independent person."

"I see," she had murmured as she wrote something in her notebook, probably taking notes on what I had just spoken. When she was finished, she looked up at me and asked, "Why do you think you didn't see this new side to him?"

Dr. Palmer, while she didn't live in Forks, probably heard the gossip about Dr. Cullen and his family, and I didn't want to bring up the fact that I knew them, whether she met them or not. It still hurts to say his name so I never revealed the name of the person who caused all of this damage. So when speaking about my ex-boyfriend, we always referred to said ex as 'him.'

Considering my words carefully for a minute, I began slowly, "Well, first I would say because he was a good actor. He could lie very well, so well that people often believed his lies. It's only those who are very close to him that knew when he was telling the truth or not. But second, I guess you could say I was love-struck. He was my first love, and while he wasn't the popular kid in school, he was the most talked about. He always was a mystery to the whole school. Girls were rejected by him when they would come up and offer to go out with him. Guys wanted to be him, and were jealous of the attention he was receiving from all the girls in school. Like everyone else at school, I never expected him to choose me. Out of all the other girls he could have had, he picked me! I'm a plain Jane; nothing special. So while I couldn't understand why he selected me, I was taken in by his good looks and personality."

Pausing for a moment to get a drink of water from the oak coffee table in front of me, I took a deep breath and settled back in my seat on the comfortable sofa. My chocolate brown eyes finding her amber ones. She gave me a small smile and gestured for me to continue.

"Like I stated before, he was my first love and I will admit I was naïve at the time. I didn't know what was normal in a relationship and what wasn't nor did I know what was right or wrong. My parents split when I was young and I had few friends in Phoenix. The few friends I do have in Forks didn't ask about my romantic relationship or what he and I did during the weekends. Most of the girls are jealous of me and don't want to hear about anything that involved us. So I never saw any red flags when he began to control my activities. His actions were so subtle that I never questioned them." Dr. Palmer hummed in acknowledgement at my words as her pen flew furiously across the notebook paper. Just then, a lock of ebony fell in her face and she stopped only long enough to push it away from her eyes before she was once again writing in a quick manner.

In the beginning week of August at another session with Dr. Palmer, I found out I have two phobias. Lately, almost everything has been linked to him and his family. So really, I shouldn't be so surprised. Now I have two phobias to deal with on top of the cutting. Lovely!

I really am messed up, I thought resentfully once I found out the news.

Two phobias. The two most ridiculous phobias in the world and I had to get first was Autophobia – the fear of being alone. The second was Nyctophobia – a severe fear of the dark. And both of them were directly related to him! When I learned about the phobias, I knew immediately how I had developed them. When he broke me in the woods, I wasabandoned. Of course, I couldn't put all the blame on him. As it turns out, he wasn't the only reason I'm afraid of being alone. Some of the blame was on my mother as well.

Renee was always the child instead of the adult. She was irresponsible and self-centered with her life and crazy hobbies. Because of that, she often left me alone at home at a young age for an hour or so, sometimes her absence would be a few hours but occasionally would be a whole night. I remember becoming frightened quite often. I was afraid Renee would never come back. I wasn't terrified of someone breaking in and robbing the place, which I probably should have been at that age. No, I was more afraid of the fact of being abandoned by the only person who could protect me from anything. Well, anything that didn't involve supernatural beings, that is.

As for Nyctophobia – the phobia of the dark– it took me a little longer to figure out how I had gotten the phobia. Then I remember what happened in the woods the night he basicallydestroyed me.

I had been lost in the woods after I tried to follow him while darkness approached the area fast. I understood now he wasn't directly responsible for this particular phobia. But indirectly he was. I mean, he could have just ended our relationship at my house or anywhere else. Why he had to choose the forest was beyond me. He should have known I would have run after him once it was time for him to leave.

Anyways, like others who are diagnosed with a phobia or mental illness, I wondered how I would survive in the world. Furthermore, I wondered if I would have to seek another professional for these new problems. I had been going to Seattle two to three days a week just to work on my problem with cutting. I could see Charlie was becoming quite suspicious with all the trips I had been making. If I increased my trips, Charlie would soon find out why I had been heading to Seattle so often or worse, confront me about it. Charlie learning the truth about how messed up my life was right now was the last thing I wanted him to know.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to search for another professional. Dr. Palmer informed me when I confessed my worries to her that I could resume my sessions with her since she had a degree in that area as well. The only adjustment to the sessions would be the extra hour added on so she could work with me on the phobias along with the cutting.

As for Angela, she was supportive and constantly there for me for the duration of this whole mess, even more so after I revealed to her my latest news (she missed that particular session for a doctor's appointment she couldn't change). There are no words that could accurately describe my feelings for everything Angela had done for me thus far. I don't know what I would have done if I had to go through this chaos on my own. I truly was grateful for having Angela in my life.

However, if any of the Cullen family ever came back to Forks while Angela was still in town, well…let's just say they are lucky they are vampires because Angela was itching to show them a piece of her mind for leaving me the way they did. Honestly, I have never seen Angela so furious as when I spoke about all the details of the break up in the woods and how his family left me without a single goodbye. I felt extremely honored at how much she cared for me, even being willing to go up against a family of vampires (unknowingly, of course) to tell them off for all the chaos they had caused me. If that wasn't true friendship, I don't know what is.

The final piece of the puzzle to complete this Hell I'm living in involved a human-drinking vampire I met last March. His name was Laurent and I saw him when I spent time with the Cullens at the baseball clearing.

When we met, he was in a coven with James and Victoria. When the whole 'let's chase after the human and eat her because she smells so good' game was finally over, I found myself wondering whatever happened to Laurent. I knew he didn't want to be a part of James and Victoria's pastime and was interested in trying the animal diet, but I became curious to know if he ever accomplished his goal with the Vegetarian lifestyle.

Apparently, I must have made an unwitting wish or something because guess who I ran into when I was in the back yard at my house on a slightly cold, early August day? That's right, Laurent.

Once I saw him, I received my answer on the status of his new feeding style. Instead of the gold irises I assumed he would have now, I noticed the bright crimson. That could only mean he had failed at being a Veggie Vampire and had just recently hunted – human style.

There was more to this unexpected encounter than I first comprehended. I soon discovered Laurent's true intentions about this unexpected reunion as he slowly approached me like a predator about to capture its prey, a creepy expression clearly plastered on his flawless pale face. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that it actually hurt. I tried my best to calm down, hoping that slowing down my heart wouldn't tempt him so much as it was right now. I backed up, trying to put more space between us. I knew it was a lost cause, he was a vampire and I was a mere human. If he really wanted to, he could have reached me right then and there wouldn't be anything or anyone to stop him.

"I couldn't forget how wonderful you smelled the last time we met," he had disclosed as he came closer and closer, a tall cottonwood tree stopping me from getting far away from this hungry vampire. "I tried to fight the urge that threatened to overcome me, but my craving for your blood was no match for my willpower."

"And here I am. About to have the most wonderful meal of my existence and your little vampire family is nowhere around to protect you this time," he pronounced with a hungry look, licking his cold lips as he continued to slowly approach me.

You need to lie, Bella, a tenor voice that sounded so much like Carlisle whispered in my head. I flinched slightly, startled at hearing Carlisle's musical voice in my head. Curious, I wondered why I was hearing his voice and not the voice of my ex-boyfriend. Sure, he may not love me anymore, but I figured he would at least care enough to keep me safe. And instructing me on what to do to get out of this horrible situation would certainly be placed in that category. So why was it Carlisle's voice I was hearing instead?

"You're wrong, Laurent," I said softly, knowing that he would still hear me. Laurent stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side, waiting for me to continue speaking. "The Cullens are still around the area. Once they catch your scent near me, they will become curious and start to investigate. And if they find out that you have harmed me, they won't stop until you're destroyed," I stated with as much confidence as I could, that I didn't feel inside.

"Oh," he murmured, his dark red eyes still boring into mine. "If they were still in the area as you said, dear Bella, why did I find the Cullen place empty?"

Shoot, I thought, biting my lip in nervousness, he has me there.

Come up with a better lie than that, Bella, Carlisle's voice urged, his anxious tone clearly heard in my head.

My mind raced, trying to come up with a better explanation for their absence. "Umm," I began, finally coming up with a semi-good cover story to tell. Hopefully he will buy it and leave me alone. "Yeah, they don't live here, but they are in the next town over."

"Hmm," he said, thoughtful. "Do they visit often?" he asked as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The act was so human that I was fairly surprised. I didn't think I would ever see a nomad try to act like a human. I thought only the Cullens and the coven in Alaska acted like that.

"Now and then." I tried to make my voice light, relaxed. "The time seems longer to me, I imagine."

"Hmm," he said again. "The house smelled like it has been vacant for a while now…"

My heart dropped into my stomach at his words. Once again he caught me in a lie. Not that I was an expert in deceit, far from it, actually. I'd hoped I would've been better when my life was on the line. I knew without a doubt that I was done for. No more lies or stories would stop him from eating me. My life was officially over now.

"Enough of these games, Isabella," he demanded in a sharp voice. "I'm quite thirsty, and you do smell…simply mouthwatering." Laurent looked at me with approval, as if he meant it as a compliment.

He sniffed at the breeze that blew threads of my hair in his direction. "Mouthwatering," he repeated, inhaling deeply.

Then he lunged at me. I knew there wasn't anything I could do. I didn't have enough time and he was faster than me. All I could do was stand frozen up against the tree, staring at him in horror, and watch as my life flashed before me as he came closer and closer to me.

When he was only a yard or two away from reaching me, something unexpected happened. Something I'm positively sure had never happened to me before.

Laurent was halted in his attack by something. I didn't know what it was because it was invisible, but I could sure hear the pounding sound as Laurent tried to break it in order to get to me. I flinched violently every time I hear the thunder-like sound when his cold marble fists slammed against the barrier.

Did I do that?I wondered, surprised and confused at this new turn of events. And if I did, how?

It seemed Laurent had finally given up on the beating, but not on the meal he was moments away from consuming if the starving look in his red eyes said anything. Instead, he started searching for a gap; a weakness in whatever this thing was which was shielding me from the wild blood-thirsty vampire.

Strangely, luck or whatever this mechanism was continued to keep me safe as Laurent's facial expression turned from bloodlust to frustration as the minutes went by. He made a full circle around me and the tree, which was still pressed tightly against my back, tapping on the thing often to see if he could get through and finding the results unsuccessful.

The most bizarre part of the situation, other than whatever this thing was that was keeping me from being sucked dry, was seeing Laurent's hand hammering against something unseen by either of our eyes. If the circumstances were different and I didn't have a crazy vampire on my hands, I would say Laurent was just pretending to get me, if not for the loud banging noise made by his marble hands as they came in contact with the invisible shield.

Realizing he wasn't going to give up anytime soon and my legs were getting tired from standing so long, I began to come up with a plan to get me out of this situation. A part of me wanted to come closer to the invisible protection, to feel the texture of it against my palms. But the other part was afraid the thing would collapse, either by my distance or touch. I would be defenseless then since I didn't know if I had been the cause of the protection nor did I know how to erect it.

Thinking back to that moment where I comprehended the danger I was in; I tried to think of any element that resulted in the invisible shield activating. I recalled being anxious and nervous, but that was all I could remember. My human memories were hazy since I had been busy with the idea of running away.

You don't remember wishing for something, anything to prevent you from being a happy meal? A little voice in my head inquired.

I shook my head, either to clear it or answer the voice. Maybe it was both. Suddenly, I jumped a few feet off the ground at a loud, unforeseen noise. My eyes moved quickly around my surroundings, seeking what triggered the sound. It didn't take me long in my search to see that Laurent had been the person who initiated the noise.

Spotting him on the ground lying on his back about fifty yards away, I knew something had just happened while I zoned out. I pieced all the evidence together: a sound like boulders crashing together, Laurent several yards away on the ground, and the astonishment on his countenance. I could only assume Laurent had tried to barrel at the protection again. However, instead of the shield stopping him in his tracks, it apparently launched him in the air and pushed him fifty yards back.

Deciding this cat and mouse game was swiftly becoming tiresome, I resumed on working out what created the shield and searching for a solution to get me out of this dire situation. Recalling the tiny voice from earlier and what it told me, I instantly tried to remember if I had wished for something to protect me from Laurent's attack. I came up with nothing. I assumed once again I must have requested subconsciously since I couldn't recall asking for anything.

As this new information processed in my head, a light bulb flickered on above my head. Maybe, just maybe I could use this…power to get me out of here, I contemplated, But what about Laurent? I can't let him continue being free. Not with him switching back to his old diet and this assault on me.

Coming to a decision, I took several deep breaths to compose myself and to build confidence, not allowing the hesitation to show on the outside like I felt internally. Repeating to myself over and over again that I could do this, my eyes located Laurent again. It seems Laurent had relented on trying to get through, but not on the whole meal as he was standing a few feet away, staring me down as he did this.

"You may have avoided me eating you, but you can't escape me," Laurent taunted, his eyes not once moving away from me. "One way or another, you will have to leave this area, and when you do, I will be here waiting in the shadows for you. I have all the time in the world to wait." He punctuated his statement by licking his lips, and stood frozen in his spot.

Laurent, unknowingly, just boosted my determination. As I cleared my mind in readiness for my upcoming actions, I sent a silent prayer towards the sky that everything would go as planned.

Taking one last glance at Laurent, who had a sinister smirk on his face, I steeled my resolve and closed my eyes. I wish Laurent couldn't hurt anyone anymore like he tried to with me. I wish he was destroyed, I demanded silently. A yell pierced the late summer air and my eyes shot open to see what had happened.

There, before my eyes, I watched Laurent torn to pieces and dropped to the ground roughly. Then out of nowhere, a grassy area a feet or two away lit on fire, rapidly coming to a full burn in seconds, but never advancing from the area it began at. A gasp fell from my stunned lips at the event which was unfolding before my very eyes. A sharp intake of breath came next as I observed in amazement as pieces of Laurent floated in midair – nothing holding him up – and were carried to the fire, all the while shouting in hopes of escaping from his fiery fate.

All of his body parts were thrown into the fire, burning to ashes in seconds as purple smoke that had a sweet scent to it rose in the air. When Laurent was totally terminated, the fire extinguished – leaving only the smoke, the smell of burning, and signs that there were a fire as the only evidence of the past event.

I gazed at the sight with disbelief, still not understanding what exactly had happened in the last several minutes. Just that something had happened that shouldn't have.

Once I recovered from my shock, I slumped heavily against the tree. I was too tired to move, even as far as to sit on the ground. I figured my unexpected power must have drained me of my energy because I didn't have any left to sit down. I just stood there against the tree, trying to regain enough energy to take me back home with. Two hours later, I began the long journey home.

After surviving such a terrifying experience, I decided to mark the day as an anniversary of when I learned I had an extraordinary power. A gift I shouldn't have as a human. Only vampires were supposed to have extraordinary powers. After that day, I did little experiments with my gift to see what I could do and what I couldn't. However, the progress was going at a snail's pace since I had no clue on the limitations of this new ability. Plus, I got tired out easily. Using my power drained a lot of my energy, even if I just used it for a short period.

Slowly rising from my bed, I grabbed the cordless phone from the nearest nightstand and stepped down off the two inch platform that was beneath the bed. Then I headed downstairs, my measured steps belying my exhaustion from staying awake all night. Of course, it didn't matter if I slept or not, because I would always wake up screaming due to the nightmares. Actually, I hadn't had a decent night's sleep since the last night he stayed with me which was over four months ago.

Entering the kitchen, I made my way to the fridge intending to get a drink of orange juice. When I opened the refrigerator door, I immediately regretted my decision. Sitting innocently on the top shelf was a six pack of beer, the same beer Charlie drank while watching sports on the television set.

My chest tightened as tears prickled the back of my eyes. My brown eyes were bloodshot and red from all the weeping I had done last night, and even from the past four months. Of course, the bloodshot eyes could also come from not having enough sleep over the last few months. Warm tears burned my eyes as they flowed out of me and my throat closed up. I swallowed hard and quickly shut the refrigerator door.

Suddenly, nausea welled up in me and I rushed to the closest thing: the kitchen sink. I bent over the sink and threw up what little I had in my stomach. It didn't take very long for me to empty the contents inside of me, but it was quite a while before the dry heaving and painful spasms stopped altogether. Weakly, I wiped my lips on one of my sleeves and rinsed out my mouth with water. Then I shakily took a step back, putting distance between the sink and me.

I stumbled towards the nearest window and stood in front of it, observing the scenery for a minute. Without considering the consequence of the action, I pulled back my right arm and punched my hand through the window in a fit of rage and grief.

Then I screamed. I screamed out every feeling I had from the past four months. I screamed because my boyfriend left me. I screamed because I lost my vampire family. I screamed because I lost my father. Basically, I had a mental breakdown, only this time it wasn't from cutting or the lack thereof. This time it was the result of sorrow and pain.

I then found myself on the kitchen floor. Lying sideways on the cold ground, one arm holding my midsection tightly, like it was going to separate, and the other was lying limply on the white tile, blood and glass poking out from my hand. I didn't know how long I lay there nor do I really care, but it must have been quite some time because when I sat up, the sun that rarely visits Forks was higher in the sky than when I first saw it at dawn.

I rose shakily from my spot on the floor and wearily began my journey to the bathroom to clean and fix my hand. Just as my left foot came in contact with the first step, there was a knock at the door. I let out an exasperated sigh and twisted around, staggering unsteady toward the front door.

When I opened the door, fully expecting someone from the town come to give me their condolences, I could have never imagined the person who stood on my porch instead.

A/N: Who could it be standing on Bella's porch? I'm pretty sure you all know who it might be, but please tell me your guesses anyway. I hope you enjoy the first chapter. Please tell me if you like it or not, or what I can do to improve my writing. I welcome freely constructive criticism, but don't be mean about it. Also, I would like to mention that I have a community dedicated to Bellisle. Most stories are when they're a couple but there are some as father/daughter. Please check it out. I currently have 196 stories right now. The name is, "My Favorite Bellisle Stories."

Basic Timeline:

Bella moved to Forks on Monday, December 27, 2004

James, Victoria, and Laurent meet the Cullen on Sunday, March 13, 2005

Edward takes Bella to prom on May 13, 2005

Cullen's family leave on Thursday, June 2, 2005

Angela's confronts Bella about her cutting problem on Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Bella's therapy session started on July 18, 2005

Bella runs into Laurent for the second time on Thursday, August, 4, 2005

Charlie died on September 1, 2005