Okay, quick note I promise. This story was taken down from FF for reasons unclear so I've edited it (a little) and I'm putting it back up. Sorry I've taken so long with this and I can't be bothered to give lame excuses so without further ado, I'' leave you to it.

Chapter One

My dear, what long arms you have All the better to hold you down Slap my wrists with that sweet consequence

It's been five months since he left me...Edward. Five whole fucking months. You may be thinking that I should be over him, but you know what? I'm not so you can fuck if you wanna tell me otherwise. I'm sick and tired of people telling me that 'he wasn't good enough' or that I'm 'not good enough'. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. We were perfect.

Lauren Mallory says it's my fault he left. The skank bitch got something right. Hoo-fucking-raa for her. I know he left because of me. But what I also know is that it was indirect. The reason he left was because he was too fucking selfish to change me. He wanted to protect my human soul. Let me live out all the appropriate human experiences. He wanted me to marry right. He wanted me to have kids. He wanted, he wanted, he fucking wanted. See? Selfish.

Mike Newton told me I was too good for him. It's amazing when a total idiot comes out with something both right and useful. He knocked me out of my self loathing. For some reason, I'd convinced myself that he was too good for me. Now I know that for the bullshit it is. I get it now. We were perfect together...for a while. When I look back, I realise that I was slowly out growing him. He was stuck at seventeen forever and I was growing. Becoming more of a woman and less of a teen. It hurt...if I'd realised earlier that I was getting too old for him, I probably wouldn't have reacted too well. And this is why I can't hate him. He's done me a favour. Fuck, it took me forever to see it but...I know now.

Even so, it's taking me a while to get out of my depressed habits. In the first month of his leaving, my wardrobe slowly changed for the greens and blues I knew he liked to the blacks and blacker blacks that I felt were more suited to my mood. I have acquired a liking for hard core metal and can't stand the sound of the classics. Whereas before they would throw me into a pit of despair, now it just plain irritates the life outta me. Hell, I don't know what I liked about that shit to begin with. I also got a few tats that I know Prudeward would hate. But I like them and that's what matters. Liberation is beautiful.

I'm not saying I'm over him because I know I'm not. I'm saying that he was my first love and I'm still in the process of getting over him. And I have a shit load of change making the transition with me. I don't think Renee much approves of the change but I don't really care what she thinks. She wasn't here when I needed her and didn't see what Charlie did. Now Charlie...I love my dad so much. He never asked me questions never even said anything. He just became my rock. He supported me in everything, even got me my first tattoo. Hell, it was his idea! He said it helped him when Renee left him and maybe it would help me. It was the first time he showed me the beautiful bald eagle with both strength and grace sitting on his shoulder blade.

Three months ago, Charlie was in an accident. He was on patrol when he came across a mugging. Of course, being the Chief of Police and a generally good person, he went to stop it. He managed to save the bitch stupid enough to be out that late with no form of protection but was stabbed in the stomach before he could apprehend the mugger. Said dumb bitch ran off and so he was found almost two hours later, bleeding to death in some back alley by a good guy. A guy smart enough to call a fucking ambulance.

It was 03:17 in the morning when I was called in to the hospital. Once I got there I was told my father was in a coma. Three weeks. Three long weeks I sat by his bed. I didn't leave him once. My loss of Edward had nothing on the fear I felt when I thought I was going to lose my daddy. He wasn't allowed to die. I wouldn't let him. He was what kept me sane. But then he woke up.

"Hey there, Bells." He smiled up at me.

"Daddy?" I whispered through the roadblock in my throat.

"Hey baby. I just wanted to tell you that I'm proud of you." He rasped back to me. I picked up the ice from the jug by his head but he shook his head. "Don't need it."

"You're leaving me." I lay down next to him. He was leaving me. I knew it.

"No, no, honey. I'm not going anywhere you won't feel me." What did he mean? I knew what the doctors had said. He wasn't going to make it. "I just want you to know that I love you so fucking much."

I laughed. He never swore in front of me if he could help it. "I love you too, daddy."

"I know. I'm trying not to sound cheesy but you know I'll be watching for you. Every step." His smile never faltered.

"You sound cheesy anyway." I smile back. He doesn't say anything. So I hold him. Hold him till the light leaves his eyes. The monitor flat lines. And I know he's right. He's still here with me.

That was almost two months ago and although I miss him like no one's fucking business, I'm not sad. My old man was right. He's always with me and he still loves me. The fucker died with a smile on his face and that was more than enough for me.

Now, most of this happened through the summer so tomorrow, I have the personal joy to return to school. Yay for me! The last year of high school. The new year of my new life.

Envy xxx