Our Worlds

Chapter 1: Broken

Broken
Bella's POV
Pain.
That's the only emotion I feel every second of every day now.
Pain.
If I sleep, I have only nightmares.
Pain.
If I eat, I throw it up instantly.
Pain.
If I drink, I have no voice.
Pain.
But in a way, the pain is a good thing. The utter agony I push through every day is my only reminder that he was real and not just a fragment of my imagination. When he left, he took everything with him. The things he gave me, the pictures I took and my life. He ripped everything from me in a mater of words.

I don't want you to come

I knew all along I wasn't good enough for him. I stood next to him and I looked like a dirty tramp next to a multi-millionaire. I'm not going to lie, when he left, it burned. Almost as bad as going through he vampire transformation but then I started thinking. The Volturi are black hearted and manipulative. What if every vampire is? What I'd when they're turned they become evil? Well now I'm able to say, I'm scared of the Cullens. I'm petrified of vampires. Only now do I realise...

I'm scared for my life. With Victoria still out there I've never been more frightened in my life. Happy Edward Anthony Mason Cullen?

I.
Am.
Terrified.

~~~After a long night of nightmares and screaming and crying back to sleep again~~~

There's a possibility
There's a possibility
All that I had was all I gon' get
There's a possibility
There's a possibility
All I gon get is gone with your step
All I gon get is gone with your step

I slapped the alarm clock and it went flying. Smashing into the wall opposite my bed. What's the point in waking up? Oh what the hell.

I groan and sat up. I trudged to my wardrobe before picking out a t-shirt, a hoodie and Jeans with converses. I don't really care what I wear now. Huh, Pixie would be furious. I feel so pathetic in the fact I can't even say their names anymore. So I gave them freakin nicknames. Wow. I told you, I'm pathetic.

Mr Cullen = Doc
Mrs Cullen = Mrs C.
J. Whitlock = Empath
E. McCarty = Steroids
R. Hale = Ice Queen
A. Cullen = Pixie
E. Cullen = Him.

What did I tell you? Told you I was pathetic. I could feel the hole in my chest clawing at the edges growing bigger. I tried my best to mentally fix it by visualising a needle and thread stitching the hole back closed and it helped a little. Mental images do help.

Sometimes.

With reluctance I tread down stairs and latch onto my keys. I take a step outside to see the grey curtain placed over the sky making the sun look like a precious circle of silver. The sight gives me feelings of Salvation. Like the sun was an entrance to a safe haven and the silver ray it's pushing towards the ground inviting me in like a red carpet in the oscars. I sigh.

If only.

If only I could just do that. Run up that welcoming silver carpet and get away from all this pain. But no. I can't. I won't. That would be giving up. I don't quit. Isabella Marie Swan is not a quitter. She's a fighter.
........
........
Or at least a survivor.

I pulled the door open to my Red 1963 Chevy StepSide C-10 pickup with hardly any force. I love that truck with my while heart and the way it was made it could take a tanks wrath. I sat in the cream coloured leather seat and looked to my side. That's were he sat when we were running away from James. That's where Jacob sat when I was blessed with this monster.

Reluctantly, I very slowly pulled out of the drive and headed on the twisting and turning road towards school. Hell. Eternal torture. My doom. What ever you want to call it. It's still one of the centre points of my pain.

The centre pints were quite general.
-school
-the C. House
-the hospital
-my truck
-my room
-the meadow
-the clearing

To me this is a race. A race against time. A race against pain. A race against my past. A race against the world.

Me and you against the world?
Pfft.
ME against the world and all its inhabitance.