This was going to be a one – shot, but I guess I just turned it into a two-shot. Haha, oops. :)

This is sort of just the same thing as the first chapter, but rather from Bella's perspective.

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The forest holds great significance to her. She doesn't necessarily want it to, but it does nonetheless.

Here in Forks, Bella can hardly find a piece of land that isn't forest. Back in Phoenix, she was hard-pressed to find evidence of forests at all. But after all this time living in a sea of green, she has no problem with her inability to find anything brown. Brown was like a trap. Brown meant Phoenix, brown meant her mother.

Now, its not to say she doesn't love her mother. Renée has been a fabulous mom. She's always there for her daughter. The problem is she is never here.

Bella misses her. She considers for just a second that maybe she was wrong to protest when Charlie told her he wanted her to leave and live with her mom again. But no. Bella wanted to do this. She wanted to get over this on her own. What a wonderful job she was doing.

Her bag lay on the mossy ground at her feet. She is alone in the forest. Not far from Charlie's house, but not exactly in view of it either. From experience she knows she should not be here alone, especially at night, but right now she doesn't seem to care. Maybe it's the alcohol. Or maybe she just doesn't give a fuck anymore.

Maybe it's a combination of both. She doesn't know anymore.

There is a large bottle in her hands. Bella has no preference really, but at the moment she's practically downing vodka, straight from the bottle. Somewhere in the back of her mind it registers that this is probably a bad idea. Bella laughs out loud, breaking the surrounding silence. What does it matter if it's bad for her? She's going to die sooner or later. No doubt about that. Everyone goes eventually. Well.. not everyone. Not them.

But that is beside the point at the moment. She is on a mission. A pathetic mission, but a mission nonetheless.

It has become routine. Wait until Charlie has gone to bed, sit outside somewhere she cannot be seen, and get wasted. Hammered. Plastered. Absolutely bloody sloshed.

She wants to forget, and forget she will.

Bella is almost done the bottle. She disgusts herself. She is tempted to throw it, and watch as it smashes against the branches of a nearby tree, but she stops herself. From behind her, she hears a twig snap. Or she thinks she does at least. Bella is way too drunk to know better. Her reaction time is delayed. It feels like forever since she swung her head around in the direction of the noise, but there is nothing there. She feels dizzy from the sudden movement, and laughs aloud until a thought occurs to her.

It's a bad though. It's always a bad thought when she has it. Never in a million years would he come back for her. She doesn't believe that. There is no way. The vodka is telling her that he is the source of the noise, but she knows better. She knows that is ridiculous.

Her sanity seems to be slipping. Bella stands alone in the forest, her arms stretched out on either side of her body, one gripping the bottle tightly, the other palm up, fingers flexing. She tilts her head back and laughs again. She laughs until she cries.

The sky cries with her too. Raindrops seem to be able to find their way between the over grown trees above, and land on her skin softly. They feel inviting, and she feels more alive when she's drunk.

Edward doesn't love her and all she can do about it is get drunk and cry in a forest. She knows it is pathetic. She knows she needs to do something other than drink, but she doesn't want to. The harsh burn of alcohol running freely down her throat is too inviting.

It is raining harder now. Bella checks once again for the sound of the disturbance, but finds nothing. Knowing Bella, she probably just imagined it. Bella imagines a lot lately, even when she is not under the influence. Maybe she's done some sort of permanent damage. Probably not, but she laughs at the idea regardless. Fuck it. She has nothing to give anymore anyway, so why should it matter?

She picks up the bag, and slings it over her shoulder. The movement rattles the contents, and the sound of glass bottles clinking together fills the air. More alcohol. There is always more alcohol.

With the rest of the vodka bottle in hand, she staggers off towards the house. Stealth is important as she climbs the porch steps. It is almost like a game to her. Get in the house without Charlie hearing her. It's a hard game to beat while intoxicated.

There are no lights on. This is a good sign. The bad sign however, makes itself apparent when Bella enters the living room, intending on climbing the stairs and locking herself in her bedroom. She stops in her tracks.

Seated in the arm chair, is Charlie. Smoking.


Silence envelops them as they both remain motionless, looking each other in the eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bella wonders when he started smoking. Eventually, she speaks.

"You've been smoking."

Pain. More pain. Come on, add it to the pile that already exists inside. Take it, and let it suffocate whatever little bit is left of the heart. She deserves it. She deserves it and she knows it.

"You've been drinking." It's pure retaliation. Charlie is a grown man, he is not at fault for smoking, but she is for drinking under age.

This reminds Bella of the bottle in her hands. She finishes it without breaking eye contact with her dad. It smashes to the ground. She doesn't care.

She is sent to bed.

Bella walks away, stepping on the broken shards of glass that lay around where her feet were. She doesn't feel the pain. She doesn't smell the iron in her own blood. She doesn't notice she has left a trail of blood on the beige carpet up the stairs. It's an ugly carpet anyway.

Her bed looks inviting. Somehow, she manages to slip out of her jeans, and pull off her sweater. Bella climbs into bed in her underwear and tank top.

The alcohol takes over, and she is sent into a deep sleep. The dreams, however, come quickly.

Vampires. Always vampires. Good vampires, bad vampires. Specific vampires, a specific vampire plays the starring role as usual. Almost like watching a movie for the hundredth time, Bella re watches as he leaves her. Her heart crumbles again as he tells her he doesn't love her anymore.

The screams come shortly after, as always..

In the midst of her dream, Bella is vaguely aware of someone touching her. Cold arms have enveloped her body. Still asleep, she cries harder when she hears that soothing, velvety voice whisper in her ear.

Suddenly, it feels too real.

She is aware that she is not in a forest, but rather in her bedroom. She is aware that the strong arms surrounding her aren't restraining her, but comforting her and untangling her from the mess of blankets. The voice isn't telling her he hates her, that she is useless and stupid. It is telling her it loves her.

Somewhere between the realm of dreams and reality, Bella stops screaming and begins to sob. Her eyes eventually peal open and her heart breaks once again.

She never thought she could endure such heart ache.

Edward was holding her closely to his body, rubbing smooth circles on her back as he always did, and whispering in her ear.

"I'm so sorry Bella."

Her cries become louder. The back of her mind is shouting no, but the front is yelling yes.

She wants to believe it, but this cannot be true. Numbly, a part of her registers that it was probably him that made the noise in the forest. He was probably watching her.

"I'm here, Bella. I'm not going anywhere, ever again. I promise. I'm so sorry, Bella." A delicate kiss is pressed into the top of her head, as her hands roughly grasp his shirt, pulling his as close as possible. Eventually, she finds words again between her sobs.

"Why?"

Edward waits until her sobs have subsided somewhat to answer her.

"I.. I thought you would be better off without me. I was wrong... Look at you Bella. What have you done to yourself? What have I done to you?"

He hesitates, unsure if what he is about to say is the right thing at the moment. He risks it anyway.

"I love you, Bella. I never stopped."

The sobs return, but she is not angry. Somewhere inside, Bella is happy. Hurt, but happy. Through the tears she chokes the four words he was hoping to hear back.

"I love you, too."

For good measure however, she adds a few more words, almost as if it was an after thought.

"..you stupid asshole."

He finds his face pressed to hers before he can even register her actions. Their lips locked in a desperate embrace, moving in perfect synchronization. Their time apart suddenly didn't matter anymore. Bella thought alcohol was the perfect thing to take off the edge. She was wrong. This was.

Bella lets herself succumb to the powers of Edward Cullen once again.