Chapter 16: To Hell and… hell

Hello...

Sorry for the wait...

Writing fic is hard, dude!

But let's get on with it. Any remaining fuck ups are mine. I like to tinker.

Oh! And Phoebe44 is the whip cream to my strawberries.

Bella

There are days when I can't keep it together. Today is one of them. It started like any other normal one, I guess.

Get up, get ready for school, and go downstairs. Start the coffee, stare at the inside of the fridge for five minutes to see if I could muster the will to cook myself some breakfast. I close it empty-handed. Take a granola bar from the cupboard and put in my backpack for later and then stare at the coffee machine so it will hurry up. And then...

I hear Dad's boots on the stairs, "Bella!"

"Yeah?!" I yell back, still staring daggers at the damn drip machine.

"Where is my PD shirt? The green one!"

He never wears that shirt. I doesn't fit! But of course, he wants it today.

"It should be in one of your drawers!" I yell back because apparently that's how we're communicating this morning.

I now where the shirt is… it left the house with someone who looks much better in it.

"Are you sure it's not in your room? I need it, dammit!"

I sigh and make my way to him because, really.

"Dad, that shirt doesn't fit you anymore. Why do you want it?" I'm exhausted already and it's not even 7 AM.

"Of course it still fits! We're doing some charity work today at the hospital. We're all wearing that shirt, for the pictures and stuff…" he says, huffing.

"Well if it's not in your room, then maybe you left it at Billy's because I don't have it," I lie, more or less.

He starts arguing but I can't deal, so…

"Dad!" I say putting my hand out in a way that says CALM. DOWN. NOW. Thankfully, he stops yammering.

"I'm sure there are more of those shirts at the station. Get one of those," I point out.

He mumbles something to himself and nods.

"Okay. The coffee will be ready in a minute," I tell him, turning around into the kitchen. He follows.

"Did you clean the freezer yesterday? There was water under the fridge last night when I got home," he asks.

"Oh, yeah. Probably missed some of the ice chips that fell out," I mumble. Stupid Cullen.

Forgot to make him clean it up and I ended up moping it.

"Hey, and what happened to all my other shirts?" he asks from behind me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, getting two mugs down from the cupboard.

"I don't know, but they look like a five year-old folded them. And my socks and underwear, too. It's a mess," he says.

And I'm confused.

"I don't understand," I reiterate out loud as I blow steam off my coffee. Because I don't. What's the problem?

I put that laundry away myself and even though Edward did most of it, I think it looked okay.

He shrugs, "It's just… I like how you usually fold them, just like your Mom di –"

I'm frozen mid sip as he catches himself.

I can't believe him! The nerve!

He clears his throat and tries again, "I, I mean…uh…It wasn't the same as you normally fold it…so...I noticed…"

If one could just really kill with a look, I would have committed patricide right then and there.

"I'm… gonna go." I put my still-filled mug of coffee in the sink and leave him standing there.

Universe – 1

Bella – 0

It doesn't get any better at school. Hallways filled with too many people and too much noise. Classrooms filled with the incessant lectures of already bored teachers and it's only/still September. The few students who pay attention are the lucky ones. Their time passes efficiently while for those of us who couldn't care less, time feels like it moves backwards instead of forward. I swear the clock at the top of the blackboard just went back five minutes. Might as well, since what awaits me in the cafeteria is far worse than this slow, cruel torture.

I sound like a period British movie. Too much Netflix, I guess.

Finally, the bell goes off and I drag myself out of the classroom. I know I probably look like I feel but I don't have it in me today to pretend. As I said, it's one of those days.

I'm standing just outside the cafeteria doors. I just can't go in there. I don't want to go in there. People bump into me as they pass since I'm in their way. I'm trying to tell my feet to move back and just go somewhere else but to no avail. I'm just stuck.

"Hey, Bella!" I hear as an arm threads itself to one of mine and starts pulling. I look at manicured nails. Jessica.

"Hey," is all I can muster. My body reacts and I disentangle myself from her. She forgets most of time I don't like to be touched. Or maybe she doesn't care.

"Why are you standing there? Come on!" she laughs awkwardly.

I think I manage to smile back. I'm not sure.

"You okay?" she asks as we walk in.

I can only nod. Apparently speech takes too much effort, too.

She fills her tray and I get a water. Food looks gross as always.

We go sit at the usual table, me in my usual chair, surrounded by the usual people having the fucking usual stupid conversations. I look, and nod, and finally pretend somewhat to be interested. It physically starts to hurt, this pretending. Or maybe it's just a normal headache.

My eyes wander around the cafeteria only to find a pair of intense green ones staring back. He smiles; well, more smirks at me while stretching his long arms up above his head. I just stare at him. He then ruffles up his hair and slouches with his elbows on the table. The smirk is gone. Now he just looks concerned.

Still looking at me, though. Still don't get what he wants.

"Helloooooo, Earth to Bella!" someone says while a grape hits me in the face.

"The fu—" I start but remember where I am.

"What was that for, Lauren?" Oh, this bitch...

"Tyler asked you a question. You were apparently off in dream land," she says looking in the direction of Edward's table. When she looks back at me, it's with narrowed curious eyes.

"And you just had to throw food at me? Jeez!" She just shrugs back. This bitch...

"What, Tyler?" I ask not caring at all I probably sound just as bitchy as her.

"Oh, uhm…" he starts, all awkward like I'm gonna bite his head off or something. Totally want to, but I won't.

"I asked if you were doing something for your birthday. It's the big 18! It deserves a party, right?" he says and high-fives Mike who's sitting in front of him.

I hear a tray clatter on the floor behind me but don't pay any mind to it. I just stare back at him. I don't have the energy to deal with him. Thankfully, Angela comes to the rescue.

"Tyler, you know Bella doesn't celebrate her birthday. Back off," says the saint sitting by my side. I manage to smile my thanks at her and of course, Ms. Mallory has to put her two cents in.

"Why is that? I mean really, you don't do anything for your birthday?" she asks me while buffing her already perfect nails.

I sigh. "No, I don't. It's a normal day as always. I'll make dinner for Charlie and me and…" I shrug and leave it at that because really… I'm looking in my mind palace for a fuck to give but apparently, I left them at home. There is nothing else to say. Dad knows I don't acknowledge the date and don't want him to, either. He has tried in the past, getting a cake with candles and shit. But the hissy fit I threw at him last time he did it worked and he hasn't tried it again since.

"God! You're so lame!" Lauren exclaims just as the bells rings.

"Lauren!" Angie yells in disgust.

"And you're such a whore," I murmur to myself.

Lauren just sneers back at Angela, looks at me and struts out of the cafeteria with the posse in tow.

"God! Bella, I'm so sorry about Lauren. I have no idea what is up with her today!" she says to me like she's Lauren's mother.

"Angie, please. Don't worry about it," I tell her as we get our things and start moving toward the hall. She stops me in front of my bio class door. "Here," she says and hands me a little brown paper bag, "Bye, B."

"What is it?" I ask her as she's walking away to her class down the hall. I open the bag and see a big walnut brownie with icing and powdered sugar in a little plastic container.

"Angela!" I yell back because she knows.

"What? You didn't eat anything. That's just in case your sugar gets too low," she yells at me walking backwards and smirking. People and their smirks.

I look back inside the bag and I swear there is glittering confetti or some shit in the bottom of the bag. She just can't help herself.

I huff out a thank you I know she sees from afar and she blows me a kiss. Can't stay mad at her. She's good people.

Edward is already sitting at our table when I get there.

"Hey," he says. I grunt out my greeting.

"How are you?"

Well, he's chatty. I give a non committal shrug and throw my bags on the table. I sit and slouch, so over with this day already.

"No words for me today?" he asks with a smile, looking at me. He's sitting up with his elbows on the table, arms crossed and his chin resting on his shoulder.

I blink slowly at him trying to convey without words how I'm feeling.

"Okay," he says. He gets me.

Mr. Banner starts his ramblings about God knows what and I just sit there staring at the front of the room. I don't care to take notes; it's all in the textbook, so why bother. I sense Edward peeking at me from time to time but… I left my fucks to give at home, remember?

Not soon enough the bells rings and everybody jumps out of their seats like they're on fire. As I'm picking up my stuff, he asks, "So, where do you usually sit?"

I look at him confused because that came out of nowhere.

"Huh?" I say because I'm ready to say 'in a chair, duh!' but I don't want to sound bitchy. Not to him anyway.

He rolls his eyes at me and I want to smack him now, so he gets the bitch brow.

"At the pep rally. Where do you usually sit?" he tells me as we start walking out the door.

"Pep rally?"

"Yes."

"When is it?"

"Today, Bella," he says flatly while waving his hand up toward the hall filled with banners announcing today's pep rally.

"Ugh!" I say with all the disgust I can muster.

"The banners have been up for a week! You really didn't see them?" he asks frustrated.

I sigh. God! Can this day get any worse? I'll have to spend the last two hours of school sitting in the most uncomfortable bleachers known to mankind listening to the principal, the coach, the fucking cheerleaders and everyone else who wants to talk about school spirit.

God, I'm ready. Right now. Chop chop!

He sighs, "Come on. We don't want to be late."

He takes my hand and static electricity shoots up my arm. We both freeze. He turns around looking at our hands and then back at my face. He waits for me to break free but…. I don't. And he doesn't either. A slow smirk appears on his lips.

"Come," he whispers and tugs my arm. My feet move on their own because I'm still in shock. It's still buzzing around… on my hand, my arm, creeping up to my chest. It's a fuzzy, tingly feeling. Not unpleasant at all.

He manages to get me inside the gym and I finally have the sense of mind to drop his hand.

"I just gonna…" I say gesturing to where Angela and the rest are sitting. I look at him and he's staring at his hand with… a disappointed look on his face?

"Oh!" He says looking up to where I'm signaling and starts to say, "Well, um… would you like to sit wi—"

Then a large bear-like hand pats his back making him stumble forward.

"Come on, E! Let's muster some school spirit! Woohoo!" the owner of the said bear-like hand shouts while dragging him toward the other side of the bleachers. I just stand there staring at the hulk of a man manhandling Edward. It's funny. He tries to stop and say something else but the guy is too strong, I guess and he just waves goodbye at me.

"Hi, Bella!" Pixie yells at me walking towards them, jumping up and down, I might add.

I just wave and shake my head. Let's get this over with.

I didn't make it inside the door of my house. I had to sit down on the steps off the porch before I face-planted. The nerve of that woman!

I survived the pep rally from hell even when Lauren decided to talk shit about me while my ass is sitting three feet away. I have no idea what she has against me, but she's whatever, so… whatever.

But that is not what has me trying to control my breathing. I know I'm hyperventilating but it's not working. The nerve of that woman!

I close my eyes and try to distract my thoughts. If this keeps going, Charlie is going to find me passed out on the porch, birthday card in hand.

I didn't think she would send one this year after what happened. I really didn't think about it, period. But for the first time in all of my birthdays, the stupid card arrived on time. I usually get one three weeks late or none at all. Yeah, but this time… this time she remembered? I snort to myself. Not likely. Charlie probably had to remind her. He's on my shit list now.

I'm twitching. I can't control it. I'm trying to stay in one piece. I open my eyes and breathe deep in long and out long, looking up to the sky. It's like I'm screaming on the inside but can't open my mouth to get it out.

I want to scratch myself out of this… of this skin… this body… OUT. OFF. OFF. OFF!

I don't notice him until he's sitting beside me.

"Hey," he says, cautiously.

I whimper. Huh. My inner struggle must be showing.

I let the damn card fall out of my hands and slump forward, putting by elbows on my knees and grip my head, "Not today, Cullen."

My face is buried in between my hair and my forearms. I'm trying to not care that he is seeing me like this but I'm embarrassed. Just a little.

I think he's already left when I hear him say, "Okay."

I try to look at him from the confines of my hair and he is just sitting there, looking out to the street.

Huh.

I keep breathing and strangely, I marginally feel the panic dissipating. I have to admit the warm energy I feel coming from my left side is making me calm down. He's not even touching me but I still feel him. Feel him there without looking. It's… comforting.

I sigh one long exhale and look up uncovering my face from my hair. I chance a peek at him and his brows are bunched together with a grimace in place…. he's reading the card.

Great. Just great.

He mumble-reads it.

"What the – " He got to the good part, I'm guessing.

His face holds incredibility and some… shock, I guess. And I think I'm seeing some anger there, too. Yep, that woman can sure write!

"The nerve of this woman!" he hissed closing the card and looking at it like it might explode. I would be chuckling if I had the energy.

He huffs and pulls his hair, "Who sent you this shit?"

I look at him and gnaw at my lips. I can't talk.

"Bella?" he asks, now with pity in his eyes, just what I need it.

He fishes the envelope up from the ground and reads the return address.

"Fuck! Is this from your mo–"

"Nuh-uh," I mumble shaking my head.

Don't you dare finish that word, Cullen. I don't have a moth–

Even I can't finish it.

"But Bella! She just– "

"Nuh-uh."

"How can she–"

"Nuh-uh."

"How dare she write–"

"EDWARD STOP!"

Just stop, please.

He finally shuts up and is puffing something fierce from what I can hear. I can't look at him anymore. It's so embarrassing it hurts.

Rip!

My eyes snap open to seen him ripping out the offending piece of stationary. He keeps ripping until there's confetti on his hands and throws it upward to the sky.

I probably resemble a gaping fish, "Wha…"

Tiny bits of paper are floating all around us. He looks at them like they have personally offended him. He turns to look at me.

I still can't form a sentence.

He quietly says it.

"Fuck her."

A not so lady-like snort escapes me. I mean, really?

He stands up and starts pacing.

"Yeah, fuck her! If she can't see what a beautiful person you are, inside and out I might add, then I say fuck her!"

What the hell?

"I mean, how can a person write that kind of shit to her daughter?! And on a birthday card for Christ's sake!"

He keeps on rambling, pulling his hair and stomping where he's pacing.

"Uh, Edward?"

"If I ever see that woman, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind! Oh yes I will! Don't you dare tell me otherwise."

Who is this guy?!

"Uh, no. I—"

"No Bella! She is an inconsiderate human being! She can't treat you that way! If I—"

Wow. Just wow.

"But I ju—"

"No! Don't you defend her! Has she always been like this?"

"Well, yeah bu—"

"Then why the hell do you even talk to her? I mean… Oh my God!"

He finally stops ranting. But not the pacing. Or the hair pulling.

He's close enough for me to touch his leg so he finally stops and looks at me.

I pat the space besides me. He kind of deflates and sits down.

I look at him in silence until he turns those beautiful green eyes my way.

"Too much for you, Cullen?" I ask him with a sad smirk.

He just blinks back.

"It only gets worse from here on out. You sure you want in on this?" I ask because he HAS to realize it.

"What you see is NOT what you get, here", I say pointing at myself, "This is just a shell, a mask, a paint job, an illusion, a mirage, a—"

He tsks at me, reprovingly.

"There is nothing inside, nothing worth it, anyway. It's all bitterness and resentment. Pessimism and… and… hollowyness."

I don't think that's a word but I'm trying to get a point across, dammit!

"Hollowness, Bella," he whispers.

"Yes, that."

We are silent for a couple of minutes. Me, I'm trying very much to prepare myself for his 'See ya around, Swan.' Him, he's probably debating how to say it without being callous.

"I can see that," he says.

See, I'm right. He's going to let me down easy. From what, I don't know – we are nothing to each other, really - but I'm guessing he's trying not to be too much of a dick.

"But…"

Oh God! I think this will hurt worse that the goddamn letter.

"I see what you're protecting inside," he whispers to me.

Blink.

"I see through all that hurt and pain. I can see it, because I was like that too… once. It festers and consumes you until you have nothing to give, nothing to feel, nothing to live for."

No. I can't listen to this. I bury my face in my hands. He needs to stop talking!

"No. Hear me out, please," he says talking my hands from my face, "don't shut me out. Listen."

I huff and puff because I don't want to cry in front of him again.

"I know you're at your wit's end. I can see it. How's it possible that none of your supposed friends or even your father see it?! I'll never understand."

Oh God!

"Just… just let me in. Let me help you, please!" he says desperately.

I'm shaking my head. Who is this guy?

"Edward, no. You don't have to. I'm fi—"I start, trying to get him off the hook he thinks he's bound to.

"I'm your friend, Bella. Your friend. And I can't see you hurting. I just can't! Please."

We just stare at each other. Me, incredulous of what happening; him, desperately waiting for an answer.

"I don't understand what you want from me. I never have," I whisper.

He slowly sits up and puts his arms around me.

A hug.

I'm engulfed in Edward. His arms and chest surround me, my face on the crook of his neck.

"I just want to know you, the real you."

A sob escapes me, "You won't like the real me. Nobody does. Everyone leaves that me."

"I won't, I swear I won't," he whispers into my hair.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I tell him.

I always end up with all the broken ones.

"Please?" he asks again.

This would be the last straw that would break my back. If I put my trust in him and then….

"Okay," I say into his neck.

His sighs big, "thank you."

I got nothing left to lose.

Since I'm going to Hell and all, might as well fuck myself thoroughly.

Thanks for reading.