DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM TWILIGHT. THEY ALL BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER.
Brief summary: Edward Cullen is a lost and troubled teenager. Still haunted by the memories of his parents death many years ago he has tried many things in his attempt to numb the pain. For many years he was able to hide his suffering from his loving adopted family. His troubles eventually cause him to develop anorexia and bulimia (flame me if you will, I know eating disorders aren't common amongst males (1/10 of sufferers are male) but that's why I went with this angle for Edwards attempts at controlling his pain) and harm himself severly. Unable to cope any longer Edward attempts to take his own life causing him to end up in hospital under the watchful and worried eyes of his adopted father Carlisle. Whilst trying to help Edward the family decide that living in a big city may not be best and decide to move to the small town of Forks, Washington. Upon his arrival at school Edward meets Bella Swan. Will she be able to do what many psychiatrists have not been able to do and decipher the troubled teenagers mind and help him to work through his troubles? Or will she force him deeper into his depression and solitude?
Why can't people just leave me alone? Always watching me. It seems that there's always someone in the room with me, that is unless I'm going to the bathroom, and even then they're apprehensive about it.
I know it's my fault. I brought it all on myself.
They don't know why I do this to myself. Hell, I don't even know why. All I know is that without these acts, I am nothing. There's nothing to prove that I really am here.
They've been watching me for a long time. As long as I remember being with the Cullens there has always been an air of unease in the atmosphere. I know they notice it too. So I know I'm not mad. I know I should be grateful for the love and care that Carlisle and Esme have given me over the years since my parents passed away. I love them. I truly do. And yet I know I don't show that love as much as I should. They deserve better than a son like me.
Ten years. Ten years since the death of my parents and I still hadn't come to terms with it. Carlisle and Esme knew from when they adopted me that it would take me a long time to come to terms with the death of my parents, my only family. They were worried that I wouldn't be able to socialise properly with my peers at school, because of what had happened. On some level I think they feared that I would do something to harm myself. If only they knew what I had been putting myself through since that fateful day.
Of course now they did know. They now knew everything.
Ever since my parents died I knew that nothing in the world was ever going to replace them. Replace the pain and the gaping hole they left inside my heart. Carlisle and Esme tried many different things to try to get me to interact with peers, with my adopted brothers and sisters, but nothing they offered filled the emptiness inside of me. Not even remotely. It was pure chance that I discovered a way that could briefly take my mind off of the pain my parents loss had caused. When I was ten I accidentally cut myself whilst making myself some lunch. The physical pain of the wound made me temporarily forget about the emotional pain that festered in my heart. I didn't tell anybody about the wound, as I was amazed at how it felt. To most it would hurt, in a way that would cause them to call for aid. But for me, it hurt in a way that made me yearn for more. It gave me a release.
So I continued to hurt myself. For years I would injure myself in whatever way I could find. Surprisingly my adoptive father, who is a doctor, never noticed, even after I had attacked myself fairly brutally. I felt please with myself for being able to conceal it from them, accomplished in a way.
I still felt hollow, as though there was something else that I could be doing to help numb the pain my parents had left behind. After falling ill with food poisoning I found the way of control I had been looking for.
During that week or so I was unable to eat anything. And to my warped mind, it felt good not to eat. I felt that if I could control this aspect of my life the rest would fall into place. I would be able to come to terms with my parents deaths. So I began to starve myself, throwing away food, and when I wasn't able to get out of eating I would throw it up. My family took no notice. I knew what was happening to me. I knew I was developing an eating disorder, and I also knew that if I was secretive enough about it my family would never guess. After all, an eating disorder was something a girl develops, right? If only my family knew. On some level I wanted them to know, but I knew that it had to be kept a secret. And for five years it was.
Until I couldn't handle it anymore. Life and everything contained within it had no purpose to me any more. I knew I was killing myself, slowly and surely. So I thought, why not speed up the process? I was going to hurt the Cullens eventually anyway, so why not get it over and done with. All I remember is blood. Everywhere, soaking my carpet and bed. I remember my sister, Alice, coming to check on me as I had said that I was tired and, in their minds, gone to bed. I remember the piercing scream that tore through the house upon her discovery. I remember fading into blackness, wishing for the end.
The next thing I remember is an annoying beeping sound coming from somewhere near me. The sound of hushed voices coming from somewhere in the room.
"He nearly died, Carlisle." I knew that as the worried voice of Esme, my adopted mother. Even though I still had my eyes closed I could tell she had been crying. "We almost lost him. If Alice hadn't gone to check that he was alright, right now he would be-" She trailed off into sobs.
I could hear Carlisle trying to comfort her. The next thing I heard was hurried footsteps and dying sobs, followed by a door closing. I knew that Esme had left the room, and I heard Carlisle's soft footfalls approaching where I was lying.
So I had failed. The one thing I had wanted more than anything and I had failed. Now I had to face the disappointment of my family. Their worry. This must mean that I was in the hospital. Kind of obvious if I thought about it. I hated hospitals. Even though Carlisle was one of the best doctors around they always made me feel unsafe, insecure, like I was being watched by all knowing eyes. As if the staff there knew that there was something wrong just by looking at me.
Suddenly the door opened again, and I knew it wasn't Esme returning. The footfalls were harsher, more hurried than Esme's would have been if she had composed herself enough to return to the room.
"Dr. Cullen. May I speak with you?" the person said. He spoke with authority. It must have been one of Carlisle's fellow doctors. "Of course, Richard. What's the matter?" I heard Carlisle reply in his soft tones.
"Maybe it would be best if we spoke away from here." I could feel the pointed look at me. "Your office maybe?"
"He is still unconscious. We can talk here." Carlisle replied, softly yet authoritatively (sp?).
After that the voices were hushed and all I could make out were a few words. The ones I caught were the most alarming ones. The words like "malnourished", "starving", "raised electrolytes". The words that were giving away my best kept secret. They knew what I had been doing to myself all these years. I heard Carlisle suck in his breath when these particular words were mentioned. Proof that he had had no idea of what was going on. I pretended to be unconscious as I heard their footsteps approach where I was lying, as the doctor with Carlisle lifted away the covers and lifted up my top - thanking god that I was wearing pants - and showing Carlisle the evidence of years of self abuse and starving. I heard Carlisle's breath catch, and a soft moan escape his lips. He put one hand on my concave stomach with the gentlest of touches, and the other on my cheek. "Oh Edward," I heard him whisper. "How could I have been so blind. How did I not see?" I could hear the tears in his voice. I heard the other doctor mumble something and then leave.
After making sure that the other doctor was no longer in the room, I slowly opened my eyes. Making it seem as though I was only just now regaining consciousness. It seemed to work as Carlisle looked at my face with a look of relief. Over the last few years I had become very good at pretending and hiding things from people. It was still paying off now. I pretended to be more disorientated than I already was. I had Carlisle watching me a deep look of concern, disappointment, worry and love on his face.
"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked me. I looked down to see that the covers were still drawn back from my mangled body. I had no reply formed so I merely shook my head and faced away from Carlisle unable to look at him any longer.
And ever since my failed attempt at escape from this world, the watchful eyes of my family became even more over-bearing. I had spent two weeks physically restrained to the hospital bed, so I that I could recover from my wounds and also so that I wouldn't attempt to hurt myself again. The only times the restraints were removed was at mealtimes. During which I didn't eat anything at all. The sight and smell of food disgusted me, and there was no way to describe how the hospital food made me feel. After half an hour each day, the nurse that was assigned to watch me eat would give up trying to persuade me to eat anything and strap my arms back to the bed again.
The doctors around me wanted me to go to an eating disorders unit. But seeing as Carlisle knew how stubborn I was he said that there was no point. Even though he knew that it was the best place for me to go, he knew that if I was to be sent there then I would only retreat within myself even more. He had decided that I would undergo outpatient treatment, with weekly weigh-ins that he himself would perform and trips to (yet another) psychiatrist.
After I was allowed home, it was obvious that Carlisle and Esme had told my brothers and sisters what was wrong with me. They kept giving me awkward glances and stopped talking whenever I entered the room. Under Carlisle's orders I wasn't to be left alone for too long, and although they were really trying to be normal I know that it was hard on my siblings, to try and accept the news that they'd been given.
Carlisle and Esme had decided that we needed a change. To move. They thought that the big city wasn't the best place for me now that they knew. They thought that moving to the city after my parents death had in some way contributed to my problems. They didn't want to think that it may have all just been what was happening inside my head that had caused me to mangle my body in such ways as I had.
So we were moving. To a small town across the other side of the country. To a small town in Washington called Forks. Where I had found out there were more rainy days than clear ones. Where the population was barely above the 3000 mark. Great. I have to start a new school, in a place where the most exciting thing to happen was a sunny day.
This move was going to suck.
That's basically the beginning of Edward's story. Don't worry there will be Bella X Edward later on. Though I'm not sure how to approach that whole situation. Please review so I know whether or not to carry on with the story or to just abandon it right now