Becoming Bella Swan by BellaFlan(incl. outtake), A - D

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Becoming Bella Swan by BellaFlan
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5452501/1/
Chapter One - Wake up and smell the crazy
What's the last thing you remember?
"The woods. I can hear howling."
-({})-
Thorazine is a wonderful and terrible drug. An anti-psychotic with a decidedly
delicious tranquilizing undertow. Apparently, I was screaming...I would have
stopped on my own accord if someone had bothered to tell me the source of the
howling was me in the first place. But the White Coats shot me up with the good
stuff before I could properly assess the situation. Ever try to explain yourself on
Thorazine? Not fucking possible.
The blond doctor checked my vitals and asked, "Do you remember your name?"
I opened my mouth to speak but felt like my tongue was coated in cotton.
"Isabella Flanagan."
The doctor frowned and continued, "Why are you here, Bella?"
"The last doctor said I have Dissociative Disorder, although I've recently been
upgraded to Dissociative Identity Disorder."
"Do you believe that's true?"
"Look, I know I'm sick but I can't be expected to properly articulate myself on
this drug."
The doctor sighed. "I'm going to ask you some straightforward questions," he
explained, shining a penlight into my pupil. "How old are you?"
"Thirty-three."
"Where are we?"
"Southlake Hospital, Critical Care."
"What State are we in?"
"Both of us? I'm in a pretty frazzled state but you seem to be keeping it
together."
"Bella, that's not what I meant...what city are we in?"
"Toronto."
"Country?"
"Canada."
The doctor - Cullen, according to his name tag - marked up some notes on my
chart and picked up the phone on the wall.
Cold panic tried to reach my brain but the stupid happy drugs kept it swimming
blissfully in serotonin. My body was manufacturing emotions out of third-party
chemicals.
My memory was like a mosaic: order smashed into smithereens and laid into a
picture of chaos. I couldn't quite remember what day it was, or really what month
for that matter. I was pretty sure it had been weeks since my husband brought
the kids to see me. My heart was breaking, especially for Ethan, my youngest. He
was always such a sensitive little bugger. I know it killed him to be separated
from his mummy for so long.
"Dr. Cullen?"
"Yes Bella?"
"You still haven't answered my question...how long since my kids have have been
here?"
Dr. Cullen sighed.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that question for you. You aren't making much progress
here, are you?...I plan to speak to your doctor about your medications."
Speak to my doctor? Who the fuck was he, then?
"I'm...confused."
"Yes, Bella, I know."
-({})-
Fog and frost. So weird, I thought, wiping condensation off the window in my
room. I could have sworn it was summer. I also couldn't find my stuff. I would
have to speak to a nurse about that...I really fucking needed a smoke.
I left the confines of my tiny room wearing only my institutionally issued
nightgown. The lavender pattern reminded me of the day Ethan was born...right
here in this same hospital. Certainly happier times.
Jessica whateverherlastnameis was sitting in the common area watching MTV.
Fuck, I'd give my left ovary for HBO. I hated reality television. Jessica was
definitely representative of the lowest common denominator demographic who
ate this shit up for breakfast.
"Hey Jessica."
"Hey Bella."
"Gotta smoke?"
"Yeah...I'll come with you."
The two of us lumbered like lavender clad, Ativan snorting zombies to the nurse's
station.
"Smoke," I explained and Nurse Ratchet hit the buzzer.
"Five minutes," she warned me.
Jessica whateverherlastnameis passed me a Camel.
"Jeez, why are you smoking Americans? Dontcha have DuMauriers?"
Jessica gave me a strange look. "What country do you think you're from
exactly...and what's a demorry?"
"You know, DuMaurier...red package...tastes like the fucking thing your mouth's
been missing all day?"
"Stop talking crazy and smoke the camel. People think we're nuts as it is."
"Hello! Wake up and smell the fucking crazy. Where do you think you are,
rehab?"
"Jeebus, Bell. I'm going to bed. Take the smoke and my lighter...but give it
back."
I made my way to the side entrance of the hospital and sat on the curb, a good
twenty feet away from the door. Fucking Christ it was cold! Where was my coat
anyway...and when did I get so skinny? I looked down at my body in shock and
awe. I don't think I'd been this thin since I was seventeen.
I lit my cigarette and took a shallow drag but started choking before the smoke
could hit my lungs. Shit, it was like I had never done this before! I continued to
hack pitifully, however my coughs quickly transformed into screams. A boy in a
gray coat had materialized beside me.
"Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"Who...where...how?"
"I was hiding behind the tree near the Emergency entrance." He smirked, but his
eyes were haunted. His face was a study in contrasts: pale but darkened by the
shadows his dramatic bone structure cast. So fucking beautiful. "Carlisle warned
me not to come...that you weren't ready to see me."
"I'm hallucinating? This is new."
"No Bella, how many times can I apologize for leaving before you believe me?
I've never stopped loving you. The moment Alice saw that Charlie had to have
you hospitalized I returned. You're not hallucinating or dreaming. I'm here and I
swear, I'll never leave you again."
I started shaking...I recognized this hallucination, how could I not have? He was
a perfect manifestation of the vampire my mind created when I read the Twilight
saga.
"Well, fuck."
Author's note: Pink Elephant is a euphemism for a drunken hallucination.
"Edward," I said incredulously.
"Oh! Carlisle didn't think you recognized us."
"Dr. Cullen is...Carlisle? Is he even real?" The pin prick in my arm certainly was.
But was that administered by Dr. Cullen or a random White Coat?
"Bella," Edward said solemnly, bowing his head. He cradled his face in his hands
as if he were going to sob. What was the protocol here? Does one comfort a
hallucination? It seemed rude not to.
"Don't beat yourself up there, Edward. You only left because you thought that
Bella would be better off...what book are we in, anyway? Is this New Moon? If it
is, you're not supposed to come back yet. We still need to establish a love
triangle with Jacob Black...he's going to be a werewolf you know."
Edward looked at me with pity. "If I live another hundred years, I'll never atone
for this."
"I'm tired, Edward. And apparently, I can no longer smoke, so I'm also nic fitting.
The thing is, if Bella were me, I would have stopped you from leaving. I would
have called you out on it. Please don't shoulder all of the blame."
An idea suddenly occurred to me. I approached my lovely apparition cautiously
and reached out to touch his face. My fingers made contact with his skin and my
jaw dropped in wonderment. I stroked his cool flesh with greedy fingers. The skin
was smooth and rough at the same time, like polished stone. I added pressure
and found that despite the unbreakable quality there was still a softness there. I
moved my hands down his neck and cupped his shoulders into my palms.
Since he offered no argument, I became more brazen. I lowered my head to his
neck and tasted him, trailing kisses from his throat to his collarbone. His flesh
heated up under my tongue.
I was rewarded with a shudder and a moan.
"Bella, this is torture for me."
"Oh, I love my brooding vampire hallucination! This is fun."
"I shouldn't have come, this was a mistake."
"No worries, they're upping my Haloperidol tomorrow, so you probably won't
appear again."
-({})-
Who the fuck invented group therapy? Seriously, who was the fucking genius who
said, "Let's take ten crazy people and put them in a small room together to hash
things out."
Here's what was seriously wrong with the premise: crazy begets crazier. I was
referring to mob mentality hallucinations and panic attacks.
The morning after my first Edward hallucination, I was sitting in an Eames-
wannabe-plastic-orange-chair, in a happy little semi-circle with my fucked up
peers waiting for the day's session to start.
Turning to the woman on my left I asked, "Do you know about pink elephants?"
She shook her head so I continued, "It's a phenomenon among crazy fuckers like
us; At the best of times, a healthy mind cannot differentiate a fantasy from a
reality. Don't get me wrong, on a conscious level, a sane mind gets that what it
imagines is not real, but still makes the body react to the fabricated stimuli. I
submit this example for your consideration: Imagine four crazy fuckers like us
sitting in a square. Patient One, let's call her Joan, says, 'Do you see that big
fucking pink elephant in the corner of the room?' Patient Two then replies, 'Well,
now that you mention it, I mean, I didn't before however now that you've pointed
her out she's fucking clear as day.'"
The asshole to my right swallowed nervously. "Well, Patient Three starts
screaming, having just recognized that the elephant is, in fact, her dead
grandmother climbing up her leg. Patient Four, on the other hand, is pissed off at
Patient One, Joan, for stealing his fucking elephant!"
Dr. Banner entered the room, having overheard my little rant and admonished,
"That's enough, Isabella."
"The story may not be eloquent, Dr. Banner, but it is indeed apt."
Dr. Banner was the ring leader of this particular circus. "Who would like to go first
today?" he asked the group, but he was looking quite pointedly at me. "Any
accomplishments or setbacks?"
What the hell. I raised my hand.
"Yes, Bella?"
"I've had a setback, a rather nice one."
"Explain, please."
"Well, anyone here ever read Twilight?"
I was met with blank stares... "Great book, shitty movie?" ...more blank stares.
"Anyhoo, it seems that I've been transformed into the protagonist from the
book."
"What do you mean, Bella?" Dr. Banner inquired patiently.
"I'm now an eighteen-year-old girl named Bella Swan who has fallen in love with
a one hundred-year-old vampire."
"I see...Does this vampire have a name?"
"Edward Cullen."
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