My name is Bella. Just Bella. Not Isabella as my mother calls me. Got it?
I'm eighteen and my life is a complete wreck. Not only am I being shipped off to live with my father but the guy I've been completely in love with for the last two years dumped me four months ago and to top it all off, I've just been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. Oh, what a joy.
My parents split when I was five. I came home from school to find that my father had gone. Mom didn't seem too upset by that fact. Figures. She doesn't really give a shit about anything to be honest. Mom's a "free spirit," as Phil put it. Mom and Phil got together not long after Mom and Dad got divorced. He's been more of a father to me that Charlie has.
Charlie is the chief of police in a small town in Washington called Forks. I used to spend my summers there with him, until I finally put my foot down when I was fourteen. Ever since then Charlie flies to Phoenix to spend two weeks with me every year.
I am not looking forward to this. How the hell is moving to a stupidly green, rainy part of nowhere going to solve my, ahem, issues? I heard mom yelling at me from downstairs then.
"Bella? We're almost ready now. Your cases are in the car hon."
All of my worldly belongings are packed into two suitcases in the back of Phil's SUV. How pathetic is that, my whole world boils down to two suitcases. I look around my room for the last time, mentally saying goodbye to the faded purple walls and the stupid white curtains on the window. Oh my god, I'm going to miss this hideous room.
I heard a car horn outside. Phil must be ready. Time to leave the sunshine behind. I grabbed my messenger bag and walked slowly through the house, remembering some of the more memorable moments I've had in this house.
The bathroom, where Mom found me sitting on the floor, covered in my own blood, when I was thirteen, crying that I wanted it all to end.
Our kitchen, where Phil had tried to convince me to eat two months ago. I was just skin and bone. Mania is not good for the appetite.
Ah, the hallway. Six months ago, I had woken up lying on the carpet. I had never been so wasted. James had thrown a party at his house, and the pair of us had got completely wrecked. I can still taste the vomit now. Good times B. Shame you'll never do that again.
Phil honking of the horn broke my out of my reminiscing. I hurried through the front door and into the SUV. I muttered "Goodbye" under my breath as we drove away from the house that had been my home since I was seven years old.
We got to the airport and checked my luggage, getting my boarding pass before heading through security. I kept my messenger with me. No one, and I mean no one, was taking that from me. It contained all the things I hold dear to me, my iPod, laptop, sketchbook, and notebooks. Sure, it weighs a ton, but that's my life in there. Would you let someone take your kid away from you once it got too heavy? Yeah, didn't think so.
My flight was called. Mom pulled me into a hug and started crying. I hate it when she does that.
"I'm going to miss you so much Isabella. I hope you get better soon honey. Then we can be a family again." She sobbed into my shoulder. God mom! I'm not fucking dying! I'm mental, not fucking sick you tool!
"I'll miss you too, Mom."
Phil was next in line for hugs. "I'll miss you kiddo," he said simply, hugging me and kissing the top of my head.
"Bye, Phil." I whispered hoarsely. I would miss him more that my own mother. He seemed to care a bit more about my life. Mom was too busy with her life to think about mine. Phil, on the other hand, was my best friend. It was Phil I had gone to when Marcus Valera kissed me for the first time when I was twelve. It was Phil I ran to when my period started. It was Phil I told first after I lost my virginity. Phil was everything to me and I was going to miss him so much.
"Love you, kid." He said, the corners of his mouth pulling down.
"Love you, too, Phil" I tried to smile. It must have looked more like a grimace because he started laughing at me. Soon both of us were nearly hysterical. Mom was just looking back and forth between us with a perplexed look on her face. She cleared her throat, cutting our laughter.
"Isabella, you have to go, sweetie."
I waved at my parents and walked to my doom.
I hate flying. I mean I really hate flying. I would rather walk to Washington on broken glass and lemon juice than fly. That is how much I hate flying.
The flight didn't take too long, thank god! Charlie met me at the airport, in the police cruiser of all things. We exchanged an awkward hug and greetings. Once my suitcases were in the cruiser we got in and started our drive home. Home is in Phoenix B. Not fucking FORKS!
"So…" Charlie started. He glanced over at me then quickly back out of the windshield. "Erm… Renee said you were diagnosed with something…" He trailed off into a question, shooting another look in my direction.
"Um… Yeah. I've got, um, Bipolar Disorder."
"And what the hell is Bipolar Disorder Bells?"
"It's a mood disorder Dad." I stopped to collect my thoughts, and then fed him "the speech" that I gave everyone else.
"Bipolar Affective Disorder is a mood disorder. Um, its main symptoms are cycles of serious depression and mania. It's sometimes a really serious condition to have but, uh, it affects millions of people throughout the world so it's not just me. Erm, the cycles are usually spread out over months or years but mine can change in, like, a few hours. Dad, I can go from high to low and back up to high in the space of two hours. It's so stupid." I paused, infuriated with my body for failing me, then blurted out, "It's a very exhausting thing to have. Every day is like a fight. I really hate it. I just want to be normal. Not have this freakish problem where I can't even control my own damn emotions. It sucks."
"Shit, Bella. Why did no one tell me? I'm your dad for Christ's sake. I should know these things!" Great, now my dad's mad and I haven't even been here a day yet. "Your mom just said you were ill and coming to stay until you were better. I had no idea…" He trailed off, frowning.
"Yeah, she's acting like I've got terminal cancer or something. She is seriously freaking out about this way too much. It's not as bad as it was. I seem to be on the right meds now. A bit of fine tuning and I'll be fine. Mom is taking it way too far."
"Drama Queen." He muttered.
"That's mom for you." I muttered back. We both laughed.
The conversation became easier then. We made small talk. He told me about the house, my new school, and the trouble a few kids had made last weekend down in La Push. I decided then and there that I actually liked Charlie a lot. He was so easy to talk to. Almost as easy as Phil. Maybe Forks won't be so bad. I think I might be able to survive here for a little while.
"So, you remember Billy Black?" He asked, still staring out of the windshield.
"Not really, but I do remember being dragged around in a boat with you and a guy you called Billy during my summers."
"Yeah, that's the one." He laughed. "Anyway, his son, Jacob, has a knack for rebuilding cars. So I got him to fix up the truck for you."
"No way, Dad!" I exclaimed. "Oh my god, the Chevy?" The Chevy had been my favourite toy in Forks. In the driving sense; however, it was useless. It hadn't started in decades.
"Yup. It runs like new."
"Dad, that's amazing" Yes! I wouldn't be going to school in the cruiser. I did an internal victory dance.
"There she is." He said as we pulled into his driveway. The faded red truck looked old. Beaten. Broken. Just like I felt. I think I've just found my soul mate. I got out of the cruiser and ran over to my truck, slipping on wet leaves and landing on my ass.
"You can play with the truck later Bella." Charlie laughed at me as he ran to pick me up. "Still a klutz, baby?"
"Of course I am, Dad." I laughed, rubbing the sore spot on my ass. "Always have been."
We got the cases out of the trunk and hauled them into the house and up into my bedroom. The room hadn't changed since the last time I was here. It was still light blue, with plastic glow in the dark stars stuck on the walls that I had insisted on when I was twelve and determined that I was going to be an astronaut.
"I'll let you get settled hon." He said as he backed out of the door.
"Hey, Dad?" I called before he could close the door.
"Thanks… For everything."
"No problem Bella." He said gruffly. "Get unpacked and have some shut-eye. You've got a big day tomorrow." I nodded as he closed the door with a soft click.
I threw myself into unpacking my belongings. After I had finished, it looked more like my room than just the room I slept in every summer. I sat on the bed and felt the familiar sinking in my stomach. "Here comes the low," I muttered under my breath. I felt the darkness settling in my body, the despair crawling through my veins, turning my blood into mud. I hated being this.
I grabbed my notebook and started writing. It's the only way I can get some of the pain out without hurting myself. I used to just cut myself when I felt like this. That is the reason I got tattooed on that arm, I refused to cut through such a beautiful thing.
The darkness is suffocating.
It's all I can breathe,
It's all I am,
It's who I am.
White is fading.
Black crawling through.
Ripping, biting and devouring me.
Light exists at the opposite end of the tunnel.
Dimmed as it is.
I know it's there.
I feel its warmth.
But I'm becoming cold.
My features are distorting.
Skin peeling from bone.
Lungs infected and heart exposed.
Down on the ground, I bleed my rotten blood.
It seeps out of every pore.
I finally lifted my eyes from the page and looked outside. I hadn't realized it was so late. I swallowed my meds like a good little girl and crawled into my bed. Hoping that when I woke up, I would either be manic, normal or dead.