It's been 8 years, 11 months and 362 days since he left. The thought suddenly entered my bewildered mind. For a moment, I took my eyes off the slick road I was so hesitatingly traveling on and put them on the scar on my right hand. It was still there. A crescent shape, shining in the dim light radiating from the sun behind my back. So beautiful, yet so burdening. I forced the memories behind this testament away. I couldn't think of them while I was driving 80 miles an hour on a rain slick freeway. But I knew I had to face them eventually. From the experiences my past had brought forth in my life, I knew that I could not hide from the pain. It would find me, no matter what crap I put in my life to hide it. To distract myself from it. But somehow, the pain always found me...that was when the memories won control and broke through the thin wall I had put up so many times before...

Looking back, I'm surprised. Surprised that I made it through that small amount of time without completely falling apart. It's funny how my life worked then. I got up, pretended to eat for Charlie, forced a smile on my face before walking out the door, then slipped on the ice outside and pretended to have been hurt just to give some evidence to Charlie that I still surpassed emotion, then dodged on coming traffic all to arrive at my personal hell. There I would walk the pain stricken floors like a zombie. No one looked at me then, after the months of his departure I was no longer the week's source of gossip. I was a walking dead man, floating the rooms of that high school, holding onto traces of him. The only reason I was still in that God- forsaken town was because I wouldn't let him go.

The first few weeks were torture, not to the degree that they are now. I couldn't stand to get out of bed because I knew everything in my life, even my window, would remind me of him. I don't know what made me get up that first morning after his disappearance. I think it was the hope that I still allowed myself to have for him. It was the numbness that blocked everything out, and allowed me to dream that he would come back, or that he left something of himself for me to hang on to. That's why I was able to get up every morning, that's why I could stand to go to school, that's why I could stand to live.

I was still looking for the strands of himself that he had left behind...One time I left myself wonder about him. Where did he live? How was he taking this? Was he back to the life he had before I came along? These thoughts worried me. What if he didn't care? What if I was just a right of passage for him? First human friend...Bella the freak. He could check that off his list. As I delved more and more into the deepest thoughts of my heart, I realized that he still loved me. He had just lied. He had just lied. Lies are now the fabrics of my life. The memories that I am formed from were founded on lies. Lies, lies...Lies. My life was a lie, and I had lost my truth.

But now, I don't care. I convince myself that he doesn't exist. That way I can go on with my life, like he had wanted. I find comfort knowing that I'm keeping my promise to him. I'm living my life.

Sometimes, I wish I could just scream at the sky, as if I believed he was actually there.

"See! Look at me now! Happy? I have experienced life! I've gone out on dates, hurt myself, gotten my heart broken...all for you!"

And other times, I just wished I still had a part of him to remember by. The thought that I will no longer know how that crooked smile of his so perfectly touched his eyes haunts me when I'm in bed at night. Isn't there a picture, a year book maybe, that still holds the truth that he still does exists? This thought is a death trap for me, because it brings the oceans of pain. He did exist, and he loved me. But then he left.

In the midst of it all though, whether one day I force myself to take the better proposition, that he doesn't exist, or the unhealthy one, he still loves me, I still have to go on living. That was why I left Forks. I needed a new start. I couldn't be trapped in that place of sorrow and pain. I had to go out in the world and keep my promise. I had to thrive. And so, I guess I did...

I put my eyes back on the road and grasped the steering wheel even tighter as I regained consciousness of where I was and where I was going. I glanced at the sign to my left: FORKS NEXT EXIT

I moaned in response. Why was I here again? This was a death trap, a suicide attempt. But I had to come. Charlie was getting remarried, and I hadn't seen him in years. I owed him that much. And for that reason, I turned on my blinker and headed to the exit.

I did not notice the second I landed on Forks soil. I thought I was still driving through one of those in between towns, where there were more malls than people. It was when I saw the diner my dad and I ate at 6 years ago when I realized where I was. The familiar bumpy road was fixed, and a mall now took the place of a chunk of forest. Where was I? Forks was changing. And the memories I tied to this place were going along with it. My Forks, my home.

There were also more cars on the road. More Mercedes and BMWs. These types of cars were no longer rarities. And liquor stores? A hell of a lot more. Forks was becoming more civilized. It was looking a like the town where I came from, Los Angeles. And for some irrational reason, I was angered by that. What happened to the town that still held tight to the primordial things of this earth? Fishing, forests, lakes? Malls now replace trees, and 5 star restaurants replace diners. There was a voice in my head that was worrying me by what it was saying...what if the meadow...his house?...that beautiful piece of ancient architecture...the forest we had run through? What if it was all gone? What if Forks had let go and went on, when I didn't? All I could think was...the memories...my home...change. It was like coming home from a long trip and realizing your home was no longer there. It shocked me, physically shocked me. And I had to take deep breaths to stop myself from hyperventilating.

Shockingly, I had somehow found my way to Charlie's. I knew that I should be expecting a different house since this whole town had changed, but I could not suppress the surprise of how it looked now. Totally repainted. The beautiful white paint was now replaced by a brownish orange, and the window seals were colored black. It looked like one of those Italian villas.

After parking on the curb, I got my luggage out of the trunk of my Audi coupe. Ironic in some ways, wouldn't you think? I pressed down my pencil skirt and smoothed my black blazer. 4 years ago I would have never thought that I would have been working as an English professor at U.S.C. The job paid well and took my mind of life, but it was monotonous. Exactly what I needed to regain some control of my life

As I walked up the door, I felt anything but calm. I was nervous, scared, and I foolishly felt betrayed. I hesitatingly brought my fist to the door and knocked. One...Knock...Two...Knock...Three..Knock...Four...Open Door. I looked up at the women who held the door in her hands. Sue Clearwater, Harry's widowed wife.

"Hello!" I said to Sue with a fake smile. She smiled back warmly. Her beautiful dark hair was in a pony tail and she was wearing a long sleeved pink blouse.

"Well, look at you now!" she said, appraising my body. I smiled and shrugged. "All grown up. Quite beautiful, actually."

"Thank you," I shot back at her, politely. "You look wonderful yourself." At my response, Sue rolled her eyes.

" Now, now, it's been six years. I should be getting worse, not better!"I smiled again, not knowing how to respond. I stood there, mouth pressed shut, like an idiot. I was usually more well spoken.

"Well, it looks pretty chilly out there, why don't you come inside." I gladly took the chance to avoid conversation. Once I entered the house, so many new surroundings were thrown at me at once. It was completely different then what I had expected. Sue was a designer, so I guess I should have expected this. The wall paper was replaced by a beautiful shade of mahogany, and the old future replaced by stylish couches and sharp centered pieces. Everything looked state of the art, including the kitchen. The refrigerator, oh my god! Charlie's heaven for storing "R," his favorite type of beer. And I bet he had as much of his favorite fish fry too! It was good for him. He deserved all of this.

"You look pretty shocked over there," Sue mentioned. I was brought out of my state of amazement.

"Well, yah!" I exclaimed. "I didn't expect this degree of change at all." I walked over to where Sue was standing.

"Well, we all needed change," Sue muttered under her breath. I snapped my head to look at her. Pity coursed through my veins. She had lost someone too.

"Well, in that case, I agree." I nodded for no apparent reason. The fact that Sue was now my new step mother did not sink in again. And the realization that Seth and Leah were my step siblings did not even faze me.

"So, where's Charlie?" I asked, leaning against the granite counter in the kitchen. Sue headed over to the stainless steel refrigerator.

"Oh, he's at the fitting. For his suit, of course." Sue leaned in and grabbed the orange juice from one of the top shelves. She then poured me a glass before I responded.

"So, when's the wedding?" I asked, reaching my hand for the orange juice. "Thank you," I said, pointing to the can of orange juice. She nodded and answered.

" This weekend. Saturday. September 13. Charlie's favorite day," Sue replied. I choked on the orange juice. When she said the date I realized for the first time it was my birthday in four days.

"My birthday? This Saturday, the September 13? Why?" I looked at Sue with shock.

"Why so shocked?" Sue said, smiling. "He wanted to celebrate your 27th birthday with this wedding." I couldn't respond.

"Why don't you go to your room to unwind," Sue suggested. "The drive must've been long." I looked at her and decided that she was right. I picked myself off the counter and headed to the stairway.

"It was nice seeing you, Sue," I shot to her before going up to my hell. I knew once I entered that room I would lose it.

"Nice seeing you too, honey," Sue replied. I smiled and turned around to the stairs of hell. I trudged up the stairs of this haunted house, purposely ignoring the pictures propped on the wall. I knew they would make me cringe with disgust. What an ugly, undeserving teenager I was. As my feet touched each step of the stairway, a new memory kept coming to me. One was when I had climbed these stairs anticipating him lying on my bed, the other when I was running down them to escape this place of torment after he had left. Both memories alike in that they were both implanted so firmly in my head, and different in what each had held in store for me.

I finally reached the threshold of my room of pain. Come on Bella, you can do this. You are a strong, 27 year old woman. You should not be afraid of rooms. I put my hand on the knob in defeat, and turned it ever so slowly. I opened the door as if I was afraid something would come flying out of it once I opened it wide enough. Minutes later, after much creaking on the door's part, I saw my room for the first time in 9 years. Surprisingly, this part of Forks had not changed. Everything was the same. Everything. Even the way the lamp was set on my bedside table. It was like it had never been touched, and that fact scared me. Was Charlie so pained at my departure that he could not stand to look at my room...the last memory of his daughter? I would have to ask him sometime later.

I slowly walked to the center of room were my bed was still unmade. I ran my hand against the purple comforter, and pain shot through my body, making me physically tingle. Edward had lain on this...so many years ago, but his presence was still here. I wanted to smell it, to see if it still smelled like it used to. Well, that's what I told myself. I wanted to see if his scent still lingered on there. I leaned down, slowly of course, making sure I still had control over myself. I pressed my nose to the comforter and was overwhelmed with the feelings I had for this town. The feelings for Edward. Mysterious feelings, fantastical emotions ran through me. The bedding smelled like mystical forests. It brought me back to the life and Bella I was nine years ago. And in that moment, I knew that I had changed. I was Bella Swan, the reckless, stubborn teenager who got her hopes up and was hopelessly let down. I was me.

I threw myself onto the bed and curled into a ball. A hard thing to do considering I was wearing a business suit. Screw this life, screw this profession, screw where I lived. I belonged in Forks, this life belonged to me. I reached into my bag and brought out some sweats and a white T-shirt. I put them on and hopped back into bed. I pulled the covers high above my head, and stopped when they covered my eyes. I wanted to bury myself in them, bury myself in the good memories of this place, bury myself in the smell of him. He was still here, this was the last strand of him I had been searching for. I could not leave this place again, for I would be fall apart for the second time. I fell asleep to the familiar sound of rain and the smell of him on my pillowcase.