Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Twilight. I never have. I never will.

A/N: I really wanted to write some more fluff. It makes people laugh. I get reviews. I smile. It's all good. But, I've been feeling completely unfluffy for the past 2 weeks. So, please forgive me for this. Rated M for 2 or 3, four letter words and teenage drinking. NO, I do not encourage it. The first song in BPOV is Bodies by Drowning Pool, the second is Should Be Loved by Blue October. I don't own those either, though I do sometimes feel that Justin Furstenfeld writes directly from my soul.

EPOV

I am running. The humidity in the air surrounds me, envelopes me, caresses me. For a few moments, I am free. The terror, pain, anger utter loneliness is lost. For a little while.

I jump, leap, spin, free fall into darkness. Away from the light, always away from the light. Boundless, untethered, almost joy. Without thought, I move forward. Limbs moving to quickly for sight.

Miles from others, I hear only wind, footfalls, my breath and other creatures who inhabit the darkness. Not quite as I do, but there nonetheless. Water moving, I'm faster than the water, faster than the owls, faster than the rodents that skitter away to their holes to hide. Faster than the panther, who hasn't heard me yet. Hasn't sensed the danger stalking him. He won't, til it's much too late.

The water is fresh here. A waterfall, fed from high in the mountains. I can smell how clean it is, free from the stagnation of the river in the opposite direction. Lacking the decaying vegetation and flesh dense in the river water. My prey smells the freshness as well. He moves slowly through the underbrush. Almost silent on large, silken paws. Claws retracted for the moment. He doesn't need them here, to travel over leaves, gracefully avoiding or moving over obstacles in his way. He only wants to drink. As do I.

He is beautiful. Sleek and deadly. Camouflaged with shapes and tones to blend perfectly into his environment. The irony is not lost on me. He is the apex predator here, with no need to be on alert. As I am in my own environment. I do not belong here, wreaking havoc on his. This is the better choice though.

He dips his mouth down into the icy water at the bottom of the fall. Soundlessly, I leap onto his back and bite deeply into his throat. Roaring, he tries desperately to flip and find purchase into my skin with his claws and teeth. Too late my glorious friend, you should have gone to drink at the river. The blood flows hot down my throat, temporarily filling me with warmth, with light. He drops from my suddenly nerveless hands. With warmth comes memory, with light comes Bella.

I stumble away. No longer running, no longer free. I walk slowly back towards civilization, towards the voices that never stop, towards my attic. Empty, aching, every cell crying out against my will. I have made up my mind, I will leave her alone. Out from beneath my darkness and the danger I bring. I will leave her to live in her light.

BPOV

One last glass. Swallowed quickly for maximum effect. Finally giddy. I dance, turning up the volume. I sing. Scream out the words. Dance, spinning wildly around the room. Loving the way my vision blurs in ribbons. Right now I feel only music, movement, noise. Enveloping me, caressing me, for a few moments, I am free.

Beaten, why for - Can't take much more - (Here we go, here we go, here we go now)

One, nothing wrong with me - Two, nothing wrong with me
Three, nothing wrong with me - Four, nothing wrong with me

One, something's got to give - Two, something's got to give
Three, something's got to give now

Maybe a bit more. Straight from the bottle. It burns all the way down. Briefly, I wonder how old this bottle is. Covered with dust, I found it at the very back of the top cupboard. Nearly full. I'll have to hide the bottle. Judging from the thick layer of dust on the surrounding objects in the cupboard and on the bottle itself, I doubt Charlie even remembers it.

The anger of the lyrics, the beat of the music, the sheer rage permeates me. I thrash, rock and scream along.

Shit, no not that song. I'd forgotten the order. I'm muddled from the alcohol. Muddled from my pain.

I lay back on my bed. The room spins. Slowly revolving. Eyes open or closed, the room spins. Tears form. Racing down the sides of my face. Filling my ears.

Stop staring, you're the reason I feel so unhappy all the time
I've given you everything I know how
Your standing on the top of my shoe
Keeping me from gaining ground
I'm sorry if you feel like I let you down

Can you tell me what have I done so wrong
To you - Tell me what am I supposed to do

"I should be loved by you, That I know is true - But I can't breathe when you're around!"

"I should be held at night, That I know is right - But I can't breathe when you're around!"

Stumbling to my desk, I roughly pull the cd out of the player. It shatters nicely in my hands, shards catching light, sparkling. They drop into the waste from my nerveless hands. Capping the bottle, I hide it in the very back of my closet for disposal on my next drive to school.

Why Edward? Just fucking why? Pulling the covers up around my head, descending into my darkness, fleeing from the light of consciousness. Why?

A/N: Now that I've typed out the angst, maybe the happy bunnies will come back so that I go back to practicing with fluff. Please forgive & review, even if it sucks.