The Spotlight is On!

53

A/N: I do not own anything Twilight.

Previously...

Bella looked down and played with the grass below her. "Can we wait awhile?" she asked.

"Sure, we can wait for as long as you want." I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her in. She lay on top of me, and I kissed her hair.

We stayed in our meadow for a while longer, until the sky turned into shades of pink and blue. We didn't do much talking after that, but I could tell Bella felt a lot better knowing she had someone on her side.

~oOo~

February 2009

Edward, the band, and I finished recording our second album, which we named "Broken Glass", and now we were on our way to mixing and mastering it. All of our songs on here were a lot darker and sadder than our first album, and Carlisle was worried that it would hurt our image. Esme was just relieved I wasn't cutting as much because of the album. She and I talked a lot about it, and she showed no judgment over it, or me. That was nice, because I had someone besides Edward to talk to.

While we were creating "Broken Glass", Edward found out that we were nominated for our first Kid's Choice Awards: one for Favorite Song "The Sun Will Rise", and another for Favorite Band. It was nice to be nominated, but I wasn't ready to be standing in front of a stadium of people. Neither was Edward, and I was ok with that.

Rose and I didn't talk as much anymore since our fight last month. Alice tried to play as the mediator, but there was nothing much to do there. Every time Rose spoke, I just found another reason to be angry with her.

I just felt so angry, all the time!

Angry at Rose, the media, Jake, myself.

All of it.

And it made me want to hide away and cut myself, just to ease the stress and pain I was feeling.

One day, one my day off, I was sitting alone in my bedroom, curled under the sheets of my bed, playing with a bloody razor in my hands. The dark, red spots soaked up my light purple bedspread.

I heard a knock on my door, but didn't answer it.

"Bella?" Edward's voice hollowed through. "Bella, it's me. Can I come in?"

I hid the razor in my hands and dug deeper in the covers.

The door creaked open, and I heard footsteps toward me. The covers lifted above me, and Edward gasped.

"Bella, what are you doing?!" He took the razor out of my grasp, and I pulled away.

"No, give it back!" I cried hoarsely.

"I thought you stopped this!"

"Give it back, it's mine!"

"Why, so you can go on ahead and kill yourself?!"

"That's not-"

"What were you doing then?"

"Nothing! Just-"

"This is nothing!?" Edward pointed angrily to the bloddy bedspread. He threw the razor onto my feet, walking slowly towards me. I backed away in fear. "If you want to go wallow in self-pity, be my guest. But I'm not going to stand by and watch you get killed!"

He left the room in a rage and slammed the door on his way out, just as my feet sank from under me.

A/N: And we're back to the sadness. Thoughts? Follow me on Twitter: dani_pitter