Yeah, um... Never written something like this before... Slightly AU, as the summary says... please review. Anything is welcome.

October

How could he do this? How could he just leave? So what, I fell, and Jasper attacked me, but he, they stopped him. There was no big deal. I wasn't mad, why did they have to leave? Leave me broken. Leave me in a slump. I remembered life before Edward, and, even though I wanted desperately to return to that life, I couldn't. He had become my life, and now he was gone. All because of my stupid birthday. And people make fun of me because I hate my birthday. Forget them. I have reasons. And valid reasons now, very valid reasons.

Maybe that was the reason I was staring at the floor in my room. I wanted to forget everyone and focus on why there were larger gaps around one floor board than any others. I wanted to focus on something so insignificant in my life so that I would forget about the most significant thing that had happened. That made sense, but what didn't make sense were the larger gaps surrounding a particularly large floor board in my floor. No, that didn't make sense to me. I bent down to cover it with the throw rug. It was really quite bothersome.

I slipped as I picked up the rug, and of course, my stitches came lose. I could feel them pulling at my skin, but the feeling was welcome. It didn't hurt. I was sure that I couldn't be hurt any more than I already was. I let myself fall, not caring about the open wound that was oozing blood. I could get a mop and clean it up later. Or I would let it dry. It would be good to have some kind of memory of him. I pushed myself up, but that large floor board squeaked, and turned. I looked inside, finding the things I though I'd never see again. There were pictures of him, and the CD he had made me.

He had said that he'd gotten rid of it all. He said it would be like he was never here. And he hid everything in my room?! Was he trying to add insult to injury? Was he trying to kill me? He obviously didn't care anymore, so why did he leave everything?

I felt the world spinning. It didn't make sense at first, but looking down and seeing the blood that had come from my partially open wound would explain it. After everything I had been through, nothing was more powerful than the scent of my own blood. How ironic. I slumped against my desk, my legs folded, and arms in my lap. I had nothing to live for anymore, so what did it matter? What was a little more pull at my arm? What was a little more of the scent of my own blood? I played with the stitches in my arm, and the feeling of the string pulling itself out of my skin tickled. The cold air on my arm was replaced by warm liquid… it was a wonderfully morbid feeling. I welcomed it with open arms. I laughed at the thought of that.

"Bella? What do you think you're doing?" I heard a sickeningly familiar voice say from somewhere in my room. My eyes were closed, and I didn't want to open them. If it were Charlie, I would have, but this voice didn't deserve to be answered. I felt her cold hands wrap around my arms, shaking me.

My eyes snapped open involuntarily, and I saw my favorite black haired angel in front of me, with worry etched into her features. She looked horrified. Good, she deserved it after what she and her family did to me.

"Alice," I said. I was surprised my voice was so strong. I smiled at her. Her looked faded from worry to anger. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a vision of you pulling your stitches out, and I was right, sadly," she crinkled her nose at the thought. I let out a weak laugh.

"As if you care. You left me, with nothing," I reminded her. Pain flashed across her face.

"I didn't want to, Bella. Believe me, I didn't want to," she said. Was she begging for me to forgive her?

"Doesn't matter Alice, it's too late," I said, closing my eyes again. I felt dizzy, and I knew it wasn't from the scent of my blood. I opened them again, just to see how much was there, and the sight of it sent me under.

I didn't know exactly when whatever happened, happened, but I knew that this place wasn't my room. I'd only been here once, and at the time, I had never wanted to leave. At the time, the love of my life was watching over me, taking care of me. He wasn't leaving me broken in a forest. He was showing me where he spent most of his time, his post prized possession, apart from his piano. I sat on the familiar couch, and the temperature here was just right.

I couldn't say how long I was alone in the room, but every time I went to the door, there was nothing beyond it. It was better than a dream, longer. It didn't seem as if I would ever wake up. I spent most of my time on the couch, and that's when I realized I must have been in some sort of after death place. Not heaven, because he wasn't here to complete it, but some place happy. Some place where I knew my time on earth was done.

I don't know how long I had been there, but one moment I suddenly had a feeling of completeness. Everything was as it should be, and I also didn't feel alone. Someone, and I had a very good idea of who it was, was watching me. I figured he would come to me if I didn't move, and I was right. He stood in front of me, looking at his feet.

"I wanted to say sorry," he said quietly, as if we were surrounded by people.

"It's too late for that, seeing as we are where we are," I said harshly. I stood up and walked so there was barely an inch between us. "But we are together, so that makes up for it," I finished, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his. For once, he responded and didn't let go.

Yeah, anything?