Summary: Don't talk. They might hear you. Don't draw attention. They might hurt you. Don't do anything. Bella Swan's life revolves around this, and it has kept her alive as far as she's concerned. Bella has been locked in an insane asylum for ten years because she is considered crazy and dangerous. Edward Cullen is a vampire that just so happens to become a new doctor at the insane asylum, and sees Bella as an incredibly intriguing and beautiful creature. Bella sees Edward as one of the vampires that killed her parents. Will he see through her insanity, and she through her past?
Hey guys! I thought since my other story was such a hit, I would start another one! Please enjoy, review and read! God bless everyone! 3
Chapter 1: Eyes
Life has a bizarre humor. It's a lot like rollercoaster. As you go up the first hill, you feel so much excitement that you think you might burst. Then, right before you go down, you can't help but think: Somebody, get me the freak off this thing! It's too late, though. You're already going down that huge hill, and, while others are laughing, you feel like crying. No more excitement, now, is there?
That's exactly what my life felt like. Only, it was worse. I knew I wasn't as crazy as some people here, but there was defiantly something wrong with me. Sometimes, it felt like I was getting knocked into the backseat, and somebody else had control of the wheel. And that somebody was ready to run over anybody who was in their way to get to their destination.
Yep, life was hilarious.
I haven't always been like this, but it's been a while since I've felt normal. I'm seventeen; I came to Saint Mary's when I was seven. I really don't have any friends; unless you count a thirteen year old girl that says she sees pretty flowers, and a woman in her mid-thirties that is somewhat stable. If you could call any of us stable, that is.
One of the nurses, Angela, was also kind of friendly. She's one of the only ones I could tolerate, and I could tell she was thankful that no one really disliked or hated her. It was mostly the nurses that shied away from us like we were the plague that got on everybody's nerves. When I felt frustrated, I would occasionally imagine slitting their throats and feeding them to the wolves. See what I mean by the whole 'not completely crazy, but not entirely normal, either' thing?
Anyways, at the moment I was sitting in another one of the white rooms they planted us in, reading 'Romeo and Juliet'. Most doctors didn't recommend the insane read, but I knew most of them were secretly hoping all the patients would become so crazy they were transferred somewhere else. Each day the doctors waited until our craziness would overcome us, and they could relax with the decrease of people. That would be the day we were moved to the next hospital, where I heard they had cushioned rooms. Apparently, doctors think the soft plush will stop us from hurting ourselves.
Looking through the window that let me observe the hallway, I noticed a couple doctors standing outside my door. They appeared to be arguing, but I couldn't comprehend what their quarrel was about. Maybe one of the more violent ones had escaped, or hurt someone, I mused to myself. Chewing on my lip, I turned away from the window and started to flip through my book carelessly.
A few minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. No one had ever knocked, so my head immediately shot up in surprise. Even Angela had not knocked for fear of being scolded by the head doctor, Dr. Scott. Then, there was a low chuckle, and the door was pushed aside. It revealed Dr. Scott and the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. My eyes instantly grew wide with terror. The man was pale white, with a lean body, but was still masculine. If I looked into his eyes, I could probably see the scarlet color of blood.
What I haven't told you is why I'm in an insane asylum when I'm mostly normal. Other than losing control of my body sometimes, but let's overlook that. Let's start from the beginning, shall we? As I told you before, I came here when I was seven. I was one of the youngest to ever attend Saint Mary's, but that didn't matter. I would've gone to an orphanage and been adopted, had I not had such a big mouth. I often find myself wanting to go back in time, and zip my mouth shut.
You see, it happened when I was sitting next to my dad on the couch, watching movies. Mom was in the kitchen; making dinner like she did every night. I recall feeling excitement build into my chest when I heard she was making my favorite dinner, and I was practically bouncing off the walls in my anticipation. It's really strange how one day something is so amazing, and then the next, your mind just doesn't have the room to care. That's how I often feel.
The doorbell had rung with a shrill screech and I ran to answer it. Daddy told me to wait for him, but I didn't listen. I was far too young to understand the danger that awaited me outside that door, and it will taunt for as long as I live. I doubt even my father could have anticipated what occurred next.
The door revealed a young man with pale skin and brown hair. His eyes glowered into my own pair with an unbelievable darkness that would be considered evil. They were a scarlet red, bright and alive with purpose. My heartbeat had skyrocketed in terror, and I fearfully hid behind my father's legs in absolute panic.
Dad yelled for me to warn Mom, and run to our neighbor's house with her. I had tried to find the bravery to do as he had said, but I couldn't find the strength. My bold father eventually picked me up, and sprinted to the kitchen frantically. When we arrived to our destination, the heartless stranger was standing above Mom with a sickening smile, which made the blood inside his mouth visible. The red substance covered the kitchen, and Dad had to literally force me to hide from the unwanted guest.
After I realized I was in incredible danger, I scampered down the hall hastily. While I darted down the long passage, I heard a bloodcurdling scream that belonged to my father. I ignored the sound, even though I felt my very being break at it. Gasping for air, I made the mistake of glancing behind me. Less than an inch from me was the horrible stranger who had just killed my parents.
His bloodstained lips curled into a feral sneer, which made me feel even more frightened. His hand reached for my face, and he trailed his elegant finger down the side of my cheek, leaving me with absolutely no control over my limbs. The horrible stranger leaned down, and whispered in my ear, "I will come back for you, my dear. Your blood smells wonderful now, but think about how it would taste once you've matured. Until we meet again, my dear."
After that, I called the police. They refused to believe that the man had bitten my parents (and possibly drank their blood), and I recall crying out in anger. I had dashed to the kitchen in fury, grabbed a knife, and stabbed a police officer in the side. That was precisely when my self-control had been lost, and when I had been sent here. You'd think they would have been easier on me with the whole just-lost-my-parents thing, but I guess there's no sympathy left in the world. I'd also like to point out that the officer lived, so I must not be that bad.
Dr. Scott (and the new comer that I was petrified of) smiled at me politely, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I didn't dare look above the new comer's lips, for fear of the intense red eyes I was certain I'd glimpse of if I did dare to. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I looked Dr. Scott instead.
Dr. Scott was similar to a brooding leprechaun, in a way. His hair was a bright red that looked identical to orange, and his skin was often sunburnt. In all the years I had known him, I had never seen him smile with genuine happiness, and you could tell he hated his job with a passion. Not that I would love either, but at least I would try to convince the patients I cared about them. Dr. Scott defiantly did not.
"Isabella, I would like you to meet our newest edition to our staff. His name is Edward Cullen, and he will be with us for the rest of the year," Dr. Scott announced proudly, and I felt the fear start to rise as he talked. I seriously did not want a vampire anywhere near me, let alone be near him for an entire year.
"Don't call me Isabella," I mumbled, looking down at my book once again. Of course, Dr. Scott just can't leave me alone, now could he? That would be far too nice.
"Isabella, say hello," Dr. Scott reprimanded me in a strict one that sent a shiver down most people's spines, but I didn't even flinch.
"Hello, Edward." Saying his name out loud felt good, almost right for some reason. I didn't understand the feeling that suddenly coursed through my veins at the sound of name rolling off my tongue, but I knew felt completely enchanting.
"Look at his eyes when you speak, Isabella," Dr. Scott ordered me sternly. I ignored the annoyance building up inside me when he called me by my full name, and reluctantly obeyed.
Sighing, I slowly tilted my head toward Edward, and spoke, "Hello, Ed-" I stopped short as I stared into otherworldly eyes, astonished beyond words.
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