This story was originally a Jasper/OC story but, the more I thought about it, the more I started to fall in love with the idea of a highly OOC Bella. Thus, here is the reposted, reworked version of this story.
There'll be a lot of angst and drama in this story and rather quickly, things are going to become a bit twisted between the characters.
I do not own the fabulous characters, that honor belongs to Stephenie Meyer; I'm just taking them, and having my way. Enjoy!
Chapter One: Crawling
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
This lack of self-control I fear is never ending
Controlling, I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
without a sense of confidence and
I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take
I've felt this way before
I never asked for this; never wanted this.
Let's get a few things cleared up shall we?
Am I addict? Yes.
Can I stop at anytime? You bet your ass I can.
Do I want to stop? Hell fucking no.
In my eyes, there is really nothing wrong me. Then again, that is a typical addict thing for someone to say.
For the past three years, I have been living this life. A life that doesn't reflect at all what it used to be. I used to be the guy that people could depend on, count on for anything and everything. I went to school, got good grades and made the parents proud. But, somewhere along the way, things got really screwed up.
Like most kids my age, when I hit fourteen, I started to hang around a different crowd. A crowd that, in order to belong to, you had to what they said when they said so. And this particular crowd I fell a part of turned me on to things I never thought I'd ever be doing.
At first, it was little things. I wasn't high all the time, usually on the weekends. But, as time went on, I found myself needing more of it and soon, it was almost a daily thing. Not only was I doing drugs but I also drank, sometimes at the same time.
Why did I start? I'm not really sure. I mean after all, I was Jasper Hale. The perfect son of Sarah and James Hale. They were wealthy people who had worked their way to the top. They gave me and my twin sister Rosalie the best life they could possibly give us. Anything we wanted, it was ours. We were brought up to treat people with respect and kindness. Yet somewhere along the way, I got swept up in the Los Angeles 'scene.' I became a shadow of my former self. I became violent, short tempered with anyone who crossed me when I wasn't high.
Soon enough, I found myself becoming dependent on more than just drugs. I started turning towards prescription pills and soon that became my drug of choice. Because with pills, it was easy. There were no needle marks for evidence. With pills, I could carry them around with me and not have people ask questions if they accidentally fell out. If the same were to happen with a needle, there'd be no to weasel myself out of that.
I spent ten months sneaking around, taking pills from my parents and even my friends. Whatever they had in their medicine cabinets was gold to me. But, they started to get a bit suspicious after awhile so I had to come up with a new plan. And that's when it dawned on me. I would go to a doctor's office far away from where we lived, away from any possibility of running into anybody who knew me.
Living in Los Angeles, it wasn't difficult to get a fake ID and use it when I went to the doctor. My plan was full proof. And up until six months ago, it had gone off without a hitch.
But then, the shit hit the fan….in the most horrible way possible.
It was January when it happened. School was still out for Christmas break and my parents were out at some social gathering, leaving just me and Rosalie at home. So, when the call came from some friends that there was a party not too far from where we lived, I knew we had to go. A guy I knew was supposed to be there. You know, the one who always carried the good shit with him? And I was due for a good fix.
I spent a good twenty minutes arguing with Rosalie, telling her that she couldn't come with me. I didn't want her getting involved with those low lives I hung out with. But, when she practically threatened to tell our parents where I was going, I had no other choice. My sister wasn't stupid, she knew what I was into to and yet, she never said anything about it. She was never one to judge people and I was no exception. When it came down to it, Rosalie was the only person who I really trusted with my secrets. She knew about the drugs, the pills, my constant leaving to get more. She knew all this and yet, she never tried to force me to stop or told anyone.
She was my sister and I loved her.
Which is why when it happened, I felt like most selfish mother fucker that ever lived.
It was never supposed to happen. We were just supposed to go in and out, get the drugs and leave. Rosalie knew why we were going, I didn't hide that fact from her. And yet, she still came along, claiming she just wanted to keep an eye on me.
But, things never work out the way we want them to right? By the time we got to the party, that guy was already there and he was waiting for me. He had just been expecting me so when he saw my sister trailing shyly behind me, he was livid, claiming that I was trying to expose him by bringing her in. I tried to convince him that she was trustworthy, that she would never say anything about this to anyone. But, he didn't believe me. The fucker had some major trust issues. And, at that very moment, he felt betrayed. He told me that the only way he'd give what I wanted was if Rosalie tried some shit.
I remember clear as day her innocent eyes widening in horror when she heard him. I told him there was no fucking way he was going to inject my sister with something.
"You want the goods? All you have to do is give her a taste. That's all."
When I still refused, he just laughed at me; a bitter, wicked laugh. And that's when he did it. I felt myself being pulled away from Rosalie, held tightly by two guys who were ten times stronger than I was; we never stood a chance.
Rosalie never had time to think about running. That bastard grabbed her, pinning her down on the floor, reaching over with his free hand to grab one of the syringes filled with God only knows what. She only had a few seconds to look at me, fear flying off of her before he plunged the needle right into her arm. She didn't scream, she didn't thrash around the floor, she just whimpered. Small little noises flowed from her lips as the drug took over her body.
And me, all I could do was watch helplessly as it took the opposite effect on her. All this time, I thought drugs were supposed to make you feel better, take away reality for just a little while. But, seeing my sister on the floor, her movements becoming less and less with each passing second, I knew I had been wrong.
By the time they finally let me go, there was nothing I could do. Shock and realization crossed all their faces when I grabbed her in my arms and she didn't move at all. Her body was completely lifeless and cold.
Before they ran out of the room, a bag with white powder hit my shoe but it was the last thing on my mind. Tears stung my eyes as I called our parents. Telling them what had happened wasn't the hard part. Telling them why we were there just about killed them. Because they hadn't been expecting to hear that their kids were at some party; some party where their son was looking for the man who helped support his drug habit. The news of one kid being on drugs while the other had just died from an accidental overdose was too much for them. For almost two months, my mother refused to look at me without falling apart. My father didn't say much to me either. We all just sort of secluded ourselves from one another.
Three months after my sister died, I met up with that guy again. We didn't talk about that night, we were just there for business. I paid and he gave me what I wanted. That was the night I started using heavily again and I didn't care who knew. I went home that night, more strung out than I had ever been. I lashed out my parents, saying it was their fault that Rosalie was dead and that I was a fucking addict. I knew it killed them and I knew it was lie. My parents had done everything right in raising us. I was the one who was the screw up of the family. I was too far in deep to stop.
The very drugs that killed my sister soon became the only thing that kept me sane.
And that's when my parents decided enough was enough. When they found me passed out on our front porch, they knew it was time to intervene. They wanted to put me in some drug rehab program but, at the last minute, they changed their mind. To them, the problem would still be there if I stayed in Los Angeles. They eventually decided that the only way for me to get better was for them to send me away. Send me far away from here. And there was only one place they would send me; they were sending me to Monterey to live with my aunt Esme. They were sending me away in hopes of breaking the habit as it were.
And now here I was, about to get off a plane to meet my aunt and go live with her and her new husband. Her husband who just so happens to be a doctor. I knew it would be even harder now to try and sneak around with pills and drugs with him around. Because doctors could smell that shit a mile away. And from what I heard, Carlisle Cullen wasn't a stupid man.
Before the plan began to descend, I had quickly used the bathroom, popping a few pills so I could be ready for everything that was about to happen. By the time I saw her, I wasn't even fully aware of half of the things around me.
"Jasper, sweetheart there you are!" my aunt's greeting was warm as always as she embraced me.
"Hey, Esme." I managed to get out without sounding as if I was high. She pulled away, studied my face for a few moments before touching my cheek gently.
"It's going to be okay, Jasper. We're going to help you." her words sounded so true and genuine that I almost believed her for a second.
"Who's we?" I shrugged out of her embrace and grabbed my suitcases.
"Me and your uncle Carlisle of course." she rambled on as we got to the car. I looked at her oddly once we were both inside. My aunt had the tendency to ramble when she was nervous.
"And where is that husband of yours?"
"Oh, well he should be on his way back home too. He had to go to San Francisco to pick up Bella."
"Who the fuck is Bella?" I ran down the list of my family members (which weren't very many by the way) and no Bella was coming to mind.
"She's Carlisle's niece. She's also going to be staying with us." she sighed, keeping her eyes locked on the road as we drove.
"Why is she staying with you?"
"Her mother died two months ago and she well, she hasn't been having the easiest time dealing with things."
She didn't go into any more detail and I knew that was a bad sign. My aunt always hated getting into other people's business, especially when things were complicated. And from the look on her face, this Bella chick was probably more fucked up than I was. Which, both irritated and intrigued me. Bad enough I would have to deal with my aunt and her husband but now I was going to have to live in the same house as another screw up?
Silence fell over the car for the rest of the drive to their massive home. It never ceased to amaze me how fucking big this house was. I had visited a few times since they had moved in here and I never understood why two people would need so many rooms.
We pulled into the driveway just as another car showed up as well.
"Oh, well look at that. Looks like we've all arrived at the same time.."
"Great." I muttered, getting out of the car and following my aunt as she walked towards the other vehicle.
I watched the doors open, followed by a pair of soft, creamy legs and then I saw the rest of her.
Oh, fuck me.
How in the hell was I supposed to handle living under the same roof as her?
I'm so excited for this story. Next up, Bella and of course, more drama!
Oh, there's a link to a playlist on my profile, with the songs from each chapter so feel free to take a listen!