Monday, September 5, 2011

You Belong to Me Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight *sighs* but we do own Possessiveward's pain and suffering.


"Seize the Day" Avenged Sevenfold
"I Miss You" Blink 182
"If You're Not the One" Daniel Bedingfield


Today is my emancipation day. I am finally going home. Mom brings me some sweats to change into since there is no way in hell I can wear my favorite pair of worn button-fly Levi's, if I even wanted to wear them. I am finally free of all the IVs attached to me and I just enjoyed my last hospital dose of my best buddy ever, M.Y. I ride home in Emmett's SUV with him and my dad, so I can have room to stretch my leg out and keep it elevated.

Mom and Alice are waiting on the front steps of the house, as Dad and Em help me out of the car.

I work my way to the steps, and Emmett offers me his hand to help me up. Damn crutches are worthless. I still have to make it up the stairs to my bedroom. Shit. I'm sweating like it's summer and it's January in Forks. Not good, not good at all.

"Edward, welcome home, honey." Mom hugs me awkwardly around the crutches and kisses me on my cheek.

"Damn, mom, you just saw me before I left the hospital."

"I know. I am just so glad to have you back where you belong. I fixed your favorite for lunch. Meatloaf with my special glazed sauce, with mashed potatoes and gravy. Let's get you settled in your room and I will bring your food up to you, and then you can get some rest." Mom finally stops to take a breath. It is so easy to see where Alice gets her exuberance from. exuberance. I kiss her on the cheek.

"Thanks, mom. It is definitely good to be back. I can't wait to sleep in my bed again. I missed being swallowed in comfort from my pillow top." I am ready for that bed to help M.Y. rescue me from my shattered life.

"Emmett, help Edward up the stairs, please."

"Mom, I was already going to do that." We make our way very slowly up the staircase with dad behind us just in case. With these crutches, it's like Bella's clumsiness had rubbed off on me.

God, Bella...I pause on the steps and rub my chest.

"You okay, E?" Emmett asks. "Can you make it?"

"Yes, I just needed to rest for a minute."

When we enter my room, I am filled with mixed emotions. It is not the way that I had left it. My things were missing. Where the photos of Bella and of Bella and I once sat, were now empty spaces that seemed to be mocking me. My shelves are as empty as the space in my body where my heart once resided. I hear my mom clear her throat.

"Um, we got you a tray so that you can eat while resting in bed and an extra firm pillow for you

to put under your leg," mom says. I move and sit down on the edge of the bed and close my eyes. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Mom, I'm OK, considering..." I shrug and begin to lay back in bed. My mom props the pillows back behind me, to help me get comfortable.

"Mom, where is all my stuff that was here?" I knew I didn't need to clarify which stuff I was talking about. It was painfully obvious., too obvious.

"Ally and I thought things might be easier this way for you. We don't want you hurting anymore than you already are." My thoughts are jumbled and conflicted. I know that it will hurt seeing the mementos of all our years together, but I love Bella. I can't just let her go, not yet. I need her like I need my next breath. It doesn't matter how she feels about me. I can't just erase her from my mind like she was never here at all.

"Please tell me you didn't throw them away. Those are mine to do with what I want." My tone must have been more harsh than I intended, because my mother flinched at my words.

"Edward, I'm sorry. We didn't do it to hurt you. We just wanted to help. And no, we didn't throw anything away. Alice boxed them up and put them in the attic." I'm relieved. Right now that is all I have left of Bella.

"Sure, I understand." I'm not happy, but I can see that Mom and Alice are doing what they think is best to protect me and my wounded heart.

"Are you sure? We can bring them down to you."

"No, mom, really. You're right. It is probably better this way." She helpeshelps me get my leg arranged on the pillow and tucks the covers around me.

"Let me go get you something to eat. I'm sure you are ready to get some rest, and you will be able to rest better with a decent meal in your stomach." She gently stroksstrokes my cheek before she leaves my room.

I close my eyes and don't want to open them again. I want things how they were a few days ago before the shit hit the fan, and I lost the only thing that had ever mattered to me. I hear a rustling sound, and mom is back with my food. I 'm not really hungry, but I know that I need to eat something. She sets up the tray across my lap and places a plate heaping with my favorite food and a big glass of milk.

"Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy." I dig in while I notice her open my nightstand drawer and removes a small brown bottle, which contains my life preserver. "I put your pain pills here, Edward. Your dad said that you can have some again in another hour or so." She goes to the bathroom and fills a glass with water and sits it beside me. I notice my cell is there as well.

"Let me know if you need anything else, sweetie. Just call me using your cell and I will be right up." She pats her pant pocket and I notice the bulge of her phone. She kisses me gently on my cheek.

"Thanks for everything, mom. Lunch looks delicious."

"You are very welcome my darling boy. Rest well. I love you, Edward." After she leaves the room, I put the plate and glass of milk on my table and move the tray to the floor. I look at the bottle beside me. An hour wouldn't make a difference. I need to feel better and I know that my trusty Mellow Yellow will take all my cares away. I pop the top of the bottle and shake out three pills. "What the hell," I tell myself, as I swallow them back with a large drink of water.


When I wake up the next morning, I take three more M.Y.'s. I know physical therapy is likely to kick my fucking ass from here to the moon. I have Mmom drive me to my appointment with my therapist, Felix Walker. Dad says he is the best. I know that he won't just have some mediocre guy who can't hack it through med school, take care of me. I'm a fucking star on the football field. Hell, I shine brighter than the fucking sun when I play. I know that it is going to be pure torture, but I am so ready and I know that M.Y. will help me. I need to get my leg better before the USC scout, Aro Blackheart, comes back to talk to me and Em again. I will do whatever it takes to be back to the way I was before the bullet shattered my leg.

I use my crutches and hobble into the building, and luckily I didn't have to get even more "uncomfortable" in one of the waiting room chairs. Felix is in the waiting room waiting for me.

"Edward, right?" He askssays as he reaches out to shake hands with me. He is huge, massive even.

I can see muscles flexing underneath his tightly fitted t-shirt. With his build, it is shocking he isn't on a professional football team somewhere. He is gonna work my ass off, no fucking doubt about it.

"Yes, man. Good to meet you."

"You too. You ready to get started?"

"As ready as I will ever be. How long do you think this session will run today?"

"At least an hour. Mrs. Cullen, you are welcome to wait here in the waiting room." She looks at her watch.

"I think I will go next door to visit with my husband for a few minutes. I will be back before your session is over, sweetheart."

"OK, mom." As she leaves, Felix guides me to an exam room and helpeshelps me up on the table.

"First, I need to tell you that this is not going to be a walk in the park. Your recovery is going to take a lot of work, and you need to follow instructions and do what we ask you to. We want you to heal the right way, and that is going to take some time, patience and perseverance.

"Secondly, this is going to hurt like hell. You need to be prepared for that. If something becomes so painful you can't tolerate it, you need to let me know immediately. Yes, this will hurt, but it shouldn't cause so much pain that you are beyond uncomfortable. In the end, the recovery is in your hands, so do what you are supposed to and nothing else. Got it?"

"I think so. I want to get back on the field and I will do whatever you need me to in order for me to step out on that field at USC, as their freshman starting quarterback." Felix grins and slaps me on the back.

"That's what I want for you too. You're very talented on the field, Edward. Can you lift your uninjured leg for me? Now, your injured leg, see how high you can raise it, but don't push it." I follow his instructions and motherfucker, this shit is horrendously painful and I'm not even doing anything yet. Come on M.Y. do your thing. I am feeling a little sluggish from the three pills, but the pain is still radiating throughout my leg.

"Your mobility isn't too bad. It helps that you were in such good shape before the accident. We

are going to do a few simple exercises today. I'm going to help you get seated in this chair, so

we can begin." I lean on him for support and sit down.

"Alright, Edward. Both feet flat on the ground. First, straighten your uninjured leg out in front of you, then back on the ground. Then do the same with your injured leg. I want you to repeat this 6 times. You may not be able to totally straighten out your injured leg, just do your best." I as soon as I start to straighten out my injured leg, pain shoots through me, but I don't care. As a football player, you hurt and you can't let people see you as a fucking sissy. No way I was going to show my monster of a physical therapist, that I can't do a simple task, like lifting my foot off the floor. You've got to be strong and I will do this, pain or no pain. I finish all 6 repetitions and notice that little bit of exertion, causes me to sweat more than if I had run 10 miles.

"Good, job Edward. I'm impressed that you were able to extend your leg as far as you did." No shit. I'm impressed by myself too, at this point.

"I bow down to you, the all great and powerful Mellow Yellow," I think to myself.

"Now, next exercise, both feet flat on the ground lift first one leg, then the other, keeping your knee bent. It will basically be like you are marching sitting down. Repeat this one, six times as well."

Felix could have been hired by the military to perform torture on our worst enemies. I am covered with a sheen of sweat from head to toe, by the time he puts me through the paces of all the exercises. Then he puts electrodes around my injured leg and uses electricity to stimulate my muscles. This hurts almost as much as the exercises did. This hour seems to drag on for an eternity. When the machine clicks off, Felix appeares at my side to remove the electrodes and helps me to my crutches.

"You did a superb job today, Edward. You should be very proud. I need you to make sure you do these exercises religiously each and every day. Make sure that as soon as you are finished you ice your leg. I just talked to your mom and she said that you already have ice packs at home, so as soon as you get settled, ice your leg for 20 minutes to reduce inflammation. I've got you scheduled for the same time on Monday. Have a great weekend."

"Thanks for your help, Felix." I am nearly out of breath, by the time I get to the waiting area to mom.

"How are you feeling, Edward?" She asks as we make our way outside.

"I feel like I've been shot in the leg mom." She flinches. "Sorry, it's gonna hurt more before I will feel better, but I'm ready to do whatever it takes. It will be like this never happened to me, mom. I will be whole again before you know it." At least physically I can be whole, even though I was pretty sure that emotionally, the damage will never fade away.

As soon as we get home, I struggle to make my way to my room. Stairs and crutches definitely don't mix. I grab my pills, glass, and one crutch, and go to my bathroom. I need some rest now, and M.Y. give me that joyfully. I take three pills and go to sleep.


I talk my parents into letting me stay home and do my school work, instead of trying to go to class on campus. It would be too hard to get around. Plus, I don't want the swarm of people who would want to talk to me, ask about what had happened. I'm not stupid. I know that Bella and I are the talk of the town right now. Fucking nosey assholes in this hole-in-the-wall town, can't keep their nose out of business, where it doesn't belong.

My days followed a pattern. Wake up, take three pills, physical therapy, three pills, lunch, three pills, repeat physical therapy exercises, three pills, dinner, three pills, bedtime, three pills and if I woke up in the middle of the night, for any reason, three more pills. By Tuesday, I noticed that the bottle was nearly empty. The thought of not having my M.Y.'s scared the shit out of me. I looked at the date that I could get a refill and I wasn't due for another one for two more weeks.

I barely had enough to get me through the rest of today. I need them. I can't make it without them. They help me escape from themy physical and mental pain, that envelopes me at every twist and turn. While I am cocooned in the effects of M.Y., my memories fade. Even if it is only temporary. I have to keep those memories at bay, because otherwise I am just cold and empty without her here with me. I can't take it. I miss her heart, body, and soul. How the fuck am I going to get more Mellow Yellow now?

As I was shaving my face in the bathroom, my crutch knocked the shaving cream into the sink.

Then it hit me. I shuffled to my bedside table and picked up my cell and called dad.

"Hey, Edward, how are you feeling?"

"Same dad, but I've got a problem. I was in the bathroom taking my pills this morning, and my crutch knocked my bottle of meds into the sink, and all of them went into the fucking drain!" My voice was filled with misery. This had to work. I had to have more of Mellow Yellow.

"Why doesn't that surprise me, son?" dad laughed. "I'm surprised that you haven't had more problems with your crutches already."

"Gee, Dad, thanks for your faith in me," I said sarcastically. "You know how I hurt after my physical therapy appointments."

"I know," he said in a serious tone. "I will get you a refill, Son, and make sure they make a note that the others were lost, so you will be able to get your next refill when it is due."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it, Dad."

"I would do anything for you, Edward. You know that. I want you to get better and I know how much your leg is hurting you right now. If these are helping cut down on your pain, I want you to have them."

True to his word, dad had a new prescription for me when he got to the house from work. "Let's avoid another incident of the sink eating your meds. Why don't you just keep them on your table here. At least if they get knocked over, we will be able to gather them from the floor."

By the end of the week, Felix thought it would be a good idea for me to walk with the help of a walker. It wasn't a lot of fun, but I was able to do it. He thought I might actually be able to try the treadmill for five or ten minutes next week.

Everyday was the same, but I was becoming more and more sluggish. But Mellow Yellow helped keep me in check physically and mentally. If I didn't take my pills at the normal time, I noticed that I was a little shaky. That fucking sucked.

Pills, therapy, meals, pills, and homework, when the urge stuck me, which wasn't often. I continued to do the exercises again in the evening two or three times, even if I had already done them in physical therapy that day. My leg needed to be strong again. A quarterback with weak legs is not an option, at all. I have to be back at 100 percent and soon. I got a letter in the mail two days ago from Mr. Blackheart saying that he wanted to meet with Em and I next month. If I can't walk without a limp, no motherfucking way am I going to be playing college ball. I can't imagine doing anything else other than playing football. I have to seize the day. I will regret it forever if I don't do absolutely everything in my power to overcome this injury.

The next week, as promised, Felix got me started on the treadmill. I was able to go for ten minutes before he made me stop. I know that I could go for more, but he said no way. He doesn't think I'm ready yet, that it would be too strenuous. He said that the course I'm on right now, I could even start with some light leg weights next week. Em and I have the weight room at home, so once I know what exercises he thinks I need to do, I can do those at home too. I will be better much sooner than anyone thinks. You can take that to the bank.

Even though I'm slowly getting better physically, my heart is another story. Sometimes at night I dream about her and how things used to be, and I wish the dream would never ends. Her name resounds in my head- constantly. The pain from my physical therapy is the only thing that proves that I'm am real anymore. I focus on the pain with an intensity that I've never known.

Without Bella, Edward really doesn't exist, does he? I need somebody and right now that somebody is M.Y. Mellow Yellow helps me escape the world where there is always a familiar sting in my heart. I can remember everything when the high from my meds wears off, and I can't stand it. It eats at my insides and I become incredibly raw. When I take the pills, M.Y. takes the pain away, at least for a little while.

M.Y. is truly my sweetest friend. It's always here for me when the real world threatens to eat me alive. It helps alleviate the horrendous despair that threatens to consume me at every turn. With them, I am someone else, even though I know that the real me is still right here. I barely made it through to the refill with the pills that I had, and dad told me there was no way that I could get a refill for these. He doesn't want me to be addicted to them. Addicted, right... Too late. I can't lose the only thing that is keeping my head above water.

I formulated a plan to help me get more. Dad has two sets of keys to the hospital. He keeps one locked in the safe and he never gets to them. They are there in case of an emergency. He's never had an emergency come up, but I definitely have one. I must have more Mellow Yellow.

When mom went to the hospital to meet dad for their daily lunch date, I went to dad's study and removed the keys from the safe. I put them under my mattress and I just have to wait until the right time. I can get around with my crutches OK, and everybody in my family sleeps like the dead.

The pill room is located in the middle of no wherenowhere. Luckily, the hospital isn't in the 21st century yet, so there are no cameras to document my actions. I may be hurt, but I'm still fast on my feet; no one was going to catch me. It's still winter and I've got my gloves, so no finger prints either. I did some research on the internet, and I know what the bottle could look like. I figure two bottles will be enough, for now. That's 1,000 pills.

I look at the clock. It's 2:45 in the morning. Not a creature is stirring, all the Cullens are out. I grab my keys off the key rack by the garage, and make my way to the hospital, where the only happiness I now know, awaits me.


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