Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to the brilliant Stephenie Meyer

Thank you all so much for the alerts, favorites and reviews. They truly mean so much to me.

Thanks to my amazing pre-reader MrsK81, for fixing my many errors. I'd be lost without her.

This is not beta'd and all of the errors you see are mine. Sorry for anything I might have missed.

Warning: This fic will contain very dark themes. I will be sure to put up extra warnings for certain chapters.

I'm so sorry that it takes me forever to update this one. I really have to get in the right frame of mind to do it. I hope you all understand.

Last chapter: He leans forward and nods for me to continue and I realize he's better than I gave him credit for. He's actually getting me to open up and he didn't even have to ask me a million questions to begin with. That thought both thrills and scares the shit out of me.

Even though I gave up on religion a long time ago, I sent up a silent prayer that Edward wouldn't use this information against me and damage me further. And I prayed that he wouldn't leave me like so many others.

Then I dive in with my questions in an attempt to get to know more about myself, my disorder and my future.

Extra warning for this chapter!


Chapter 8

I wasted no more time dwelling on the possibilities of this disorder. I wanted to know his thoughts, before he started poking around in my head and my past. Before I allowed him to drudge up memories so painful I had to bury them to get some sort of reprieve and even still they haunted me at times.

I leaned forward with my elbows on the table, arms cuffed together in front of me; the cool metal of the cuffs, cooled my sudden onset of overheated skin.

"So, let's cut to the chase, shall we Edward? I've done some research on this disorder you think I might have and now I want to hear about it from you, in your own words."

I smirked up at him, and let him know that I still kind of feel like he's a quack and won't be able to help me. He only grinned in return in a silent warning that he was not backing down and not easily intimidated by the likes of me.

He leaned forward as well, palms flat on the table as he began to explain more about this disorder. He was telling me things I already knew. IT all stems from the abandonment you experienced as a child. You lash out in anger in an attempt to drive others away, because in the end you expect everyone to leave you, and abandon you just like when you were a child.

As I listened to the symptoms spewing from his mouth, I cringed mentally and then I got pissed. I'm pissed at her, at my mother and what she's caused me. The fact that she left, not only led me to a lifetime of abuse, both sexually and physically, it not only led me to murder and now jail time for the rest of my life, no, now the icing on the cake is, her leaving caused me to have a personality disorder. A disorder which I now have to live with for the rest of my life and the best that I can hope for is finding proper therapy that can teach me a way to cope with it, to better manage my angry outbursts.

He finished his long and detailed explanation and I just sat and listened, not making eye contact with him, but looked once again above his head at that damned clock on the wall. The same clock that kept on ticking as if to taunt me and tell me that time goes on, even if I am locked away for the rest of my life. As if to tease me and say, "You'll never get out of here and you'll rot away a bitter old woman who can't even enjoy the company of cats." I'll have to settle for a life with a bunch of old crotchety bitches like Lauren and Jessica instead.

I snapped out of my internal pity party and saw him staring at me with nothing but curiosity and concern and I didn't like it one bit. I didn't need anyone's concern and certainly not his. I didn't want him to be curious about me. I wasn't some lab rat, experiment for him to come and try to make whole again or test and see if this time he can save the poor abused girl.

I snarled at him as I said, "Listen Edward, take your pity eyes off of me."

Once again he was unfazed by my outburst; he just leaned back in his chair and studied me for another minute.

"Well, now that we've discussed what could possibly be going on with you, how about we just jump right in. Besides, the sooner we get through the hard parts of this therapy, the sooner we can possibly get you out of this place and into a mental health hospital, figure out an effective treatment plan and get you back out into the real world.

I sighed loudly in annoyance at his whimsical dreams and fantasies for my life.

"Look, don't come in here and shoot rainbows up my ass. I'm not an idiot. And besides, even if I did get out of here and into an insane asylum, what then? How long would I be there, huh? How long until I'm actually free, as you say?" I didn't realize how close I'd gotten until I heard the guards coming up behind me to settle me down, but Edward just shooed them away with a wave of his hand.

I sat back down with a scowl on my face reserved only for one, Mr. Cullen.

"Look Ms. Swan, I can't promise you anything, you're right, but how about we just work together and see where it leads and if it gets you out of here, then I'd say we'd be pretty successful." He offered a placating smile and I just wanted to punch him in his face. Yes, it was becoming more and more obvious by the second by my bubbling anger over this bronzed haired man and his words of false promises that maybe I did have this disorder.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down, then opened them and nodded for him to continue.

He leaned forward again and placed his fingers in a steeple position, his elbows on the table. "So, Ms. Swan, why don't we just start from the beginning and work our way forward?"

I knew we were going to have to do this. I knew that if I was going to get better, I'd have to open up to him and rehash my childhood- every single wounding moment of it.

I took a deep breath and purged. I recounted how it all started with my mother leaving and the next morning's events. How my father had treated my mother the night before, how her dress was in tatters, how she read to me and cried the night before and then left without a goodbye the next morning.

I stopped again, letting the pain wash over me, owning it for the first time in my life.

Edward looked at me with kind eyes without a trace of pity.

"I can understand how that was very painful for you, especially being such a young girl. You must've felt all alone and scared when you woke up the next morning."

He hit the nail on the head with that one. "Yes, of course it hurt. I mean my mother who I considered my angel, just up and left me. I thought she was playing our favorite game of hide and go seek with me, only she was nowhere to be found and instead, he found me."

I took a deep shuddering breath after that, a chill settling over me at the thought of my monster of a father.

Edward shone his kind eyes my way once more and I oddly felt calmer. "It's okay, Ms. Swan, you're safe here. Please continue when you're ready."

I didn't continue though, because it hurt and because I wasn't sure where or even how to begin to describe the horrible things that happened once he found me that morning.

As if he sensed my sudden block, he continued for me. "So, you woke up and your mother was gone, you thought she was hiding, but couldn't find her. Can you help me to understand what happened then? You said he, would you be referring to your father?"

I choked back a sob when he said the word father, because he was the furthest thing from what a father should be. I held back my tears as I recounted what happened next. How Charlie had found me looking for her, how he pulled my hair and yelled at me, grabbed my face and squeezed as hard as he could and spilt his beer all over me. I continued to tell Edward how my daddy told me that my mama was gone and not coming back and how he spanked me as hard as he could, because he could no longer take his anger out on her.

I didn't realize that the tears were pouring down my face until I saw Mr. Cullen hand me a tissue and waited for me to gather myself once again.

I whispered a thank you to him and he shrugged me off with a polite smile.

"Thank you for telling me all of that Ms. Swan. I can see that it really upset you to do so. I understand how scary that must have been for you as a child, watching your daddy bounce around from emotion to emotion and yelling and hurting you in the process. You must have been so afraid and felt so alone.

I just glanced up at him, wiping my eyes and waited for him to tell me. I was now a shell of the woman that was sitting in this chair moments ago. I felt broken and crumbled and we'd only just begun.

I stared back down at my tissue, ripping it to shreds, just as my inside felt. "Yes, I was terrified. I didn't know what to think or do. I didn't know how to help him and make him stop crying and yelling at me. And I was confused, because I didn't know what he meant by my mama being gone and never coming back. I just knew though, somehow, that it was my responsibility to take care of him and try to love him back to health."

Mr. Cullen chose that moment to speak up. "How did that work for you? How did it work when you tried to 'love him back to health,' as you said?"

I wasn't really sure what he meant by that and didn't really know how to answer it either. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, both contemplating this information and our next words.

I looked up at him, meeting his green eyes once again. "It didn't. It didn't work at all Edward. He took from me instead. He took so much from me. He took my love and turned it into something ugly and horrible and made me do things to him that no daughter should ever have to do to and with her father."

I was hysterical once again and just wanted to stop. This was too much and I felt like I was bleeding from the inside out, my wounds so open and fresh for the world to see. I wished I could take it all back and put it back in its nice tight jar in my head and heart, never opening it again. It felt like Pandora's Box and now it was out to wreak havoc on anyone in its path, mainly me.

I was now hyperventilating and Edward was right there in my face, kneeled in front of me and I'm not sure how he got there. He wasn't touching me as he knew better, but he was there with his gentle eyes and soothing voice urging me to breathe.

"Ms. Swan, you have to breathe okay. I know it hurts. I know it's horribly painful, but you're doing so well. I promise you are. Just keep breathing."

I did as he said and focused on his face, he stayed there with me, breathing with me the whole time until my panic assuaged.

I nodded again, letting him know I was alright and that he could continue and he slowly made his way back to his seat.

He leaned forward once more, ever the professional therapist, as he continued. "You know what I think would help?"

He held my gaze as he said, "I think you need someone to apologize to you. You need to hear that none of that was your fault. Not your mother leaving, not your father's angry words and painful abuse, none of it. You were a little girl. A frightened little girl that adored her parents. So, I'm sorry Ms. Swan. I'm sorry that you had to grow up so quickly and endure the horrendous things that you did. I'm sorry that you felt such rage and emotional and physical abuse at the hands of someone that should've loved and cherished you. I'm sorry."

And at his apology for each one of those sins, I sobbed even harder. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did need to hear that.

He let me sob until I could no longer and then offered me an empathetic smile. "You did great today Ms. Swan. Thank you for sharing all of that with me. I think that's enough for our first session though. Here's what I'd like for you to do before our next session."

I'm not sure why his words made me nervous but they did. I guess I didn't factor in that I would have to work on this outside of here.

He placed his palms on the table again, gauging my reaction. "Don't be nervous. I'm not going to make you do anything scary, I promise. I just want you to really think about what I said. Think about how none of this was your fault and that you couldn't control his actions."

I looked at him shocked that this was all he was going to make me do. I could handle this. I could really think about things. Hell, I was cut wide open now, no going back anymore. I needed to let these thoughts in and let them consume me, in order to really heal from this.

So with a hopeful nod, I let him know that I could and would do that.

He thanked me for my time and said he would see me next week. He reiterated that I did a good job today, as he grabbed his brief case and headed out of the door. My sudden calmness left with him and I was shaking as the door shut behind him.

How could I go back in there when I was so ripe and fresh with memories and hurt? I would be an easy target today for sure. I needed to get ahold of myself and as the guard came over and unhooked my chains from the chair, my "don't mess with me" attitude was firmly back in place.

One thing was for sure; I needed a smoke after that. My nerves, though concealed on the outside, were frayed and tattered on the inside. Maybe I could find Rose out in the courtyard before we began or in her case, resumed our chores for the day.

The guard must have sensed my need and eased up on me for a minute, because he ushered me outside to let me light up and enjoy a moment of tension relief in the bliss that was a Marlboro Red.

I breathed in and out, inhaling the nicotine and letting it soothe my nervousness. A few minutes later, the loud voice of my cellmate interrupted my moment of peace.

"What's up bitch? How'd the therapy go?" She walked over to me, our guards not too far away. I reached into my pocket and offered her a cigarette and a light, without her asking. There was no point anyway, this was routine by now.

I inhaled and exhaled a few more puffs before I responded. "Um—it was alright. You know just talked and shit is all."

I didn't make eye contact with her, just focused on the cherry of her cig as she moved the stick around with her hand gestures.

She took a puff as well, before she called me on my bullshit, but again I wasn't ready to talk to her about this. Not yet anyway. I feared I would break down like I did in that tiny room if I tried to explain what had happened in there.

"I'm sorry Rose," I said as I stamped out my cigarette. "Please just give me a little more time. It was rough and that's all I'm going to say right now okay."

She thought that over for a second, reading my nonverbal I'm sure, before she stamped her stick out as well. "I get it B. I really do, but just know I'm here okay, always."

I nodded, my eyes blurring once again over her kindness and support. "No, don't go crying on me bitch. Let's go see what these jackasses have planned for us today. I've been working on cleaning the mess hall, but that's done. I'm hoping we can sweet talk Jasper into letting us do laundry for the rest of the day."

Yes, this is why I loved her. She took care of me and didn't push when I wasn't ready. The guards ushered us back to our cells and we followed willingly in comfortable silence. My mind was still racing and was neither comfortable nor silent though.

When we got back and they let us in, we just sat and waited, hoping Jasper would be the one to come by with our chore duties. And thank the good Lord above, we caught a break and that crazy curly hair and his dimpled cheeks came into view.

He unlocked our cell and we sat on our beds waiting for him to tell us where to go. "Ladies, I'll be escorting you to the laundry facility at this time. You will both be our lovely laundry queens for the day."

I couldn't help but giggle at his words. I again thought about how thankful I was for both Jasper and Rose, my brother and sister. I could do this. I could survive reliving this, as long as they were here to catch me when I fell from the weight of letting it go.

A/N: Hey all, again I'm sorry for the long breaks between updates, but I'll finish this one. I love it, but it takes a lot out of me to write something this dark. It gives me good practice on my therapy skills though.

Thanks so much for reading this one. I know it's not an easy read, that's why you are so important to me.