Chapter 10
I was running through the forest, my bare feet pounding against the rough ground. My heels were dangling from my hand, swinging back and forth and beating against my leg. I was soaking wet, my hair clinging limply to my face. My black skirt was uncomfortably wet against my legs and my feet were numb and blistered and cut, covered in mud.

I had been running for a few hours now, ever since I had seen that the body in the coffin was not my Edward’s. No, that’s was wrong. I had actually gone into the bathroom first and lifted up the sleeves of my shirt, checking my arms for bruises. And sure enough, there were two hand-shaped bruises wrapping around my upper arms, even more proof that Edward really had been there this morning. It wasn’t a dream and it wasn’t me going crazy. He really had been there!

And then, after seeing the bruises, I had started running. I didn’t know where I was or even really what I was doing. I was just running away, away from the funeral that was dead set on burying what was supposedly my alive husband’s body but wasn’t really his body. If there was ever a more messed up sentence, I cannot think of one. Of course, no one knew he was alive but me. But I couldn’t have just stayed there while everyone mourned Edward. How could I mourn him when I was too ecstatic over figuring out he was still alive? I couldn’t act sad and I couldn’t tell anyone what I was so happy because they would think I was mentally unstable with grief.

How are you so sure you’re not crazy?  A little, doubting voice in the back of my head asked. So what if it wasn’t his body? How do you know you’re not imagining the bruises as well? How does any of this mean he’s alive?

No! He was alive and I knew it. I had seen him wake up in the morgue. I had seen the body in the coffin wasn’t his. The bruises really were there. I wasn’t imagining any of this. He had been in my room that morning for heavens sake!

Hadn’t he? Had I really accepted all this as reality and not insanity? That I wasn’t going crazy or schizophrenic? Because what if that voice was right? What if the bruises weren’t there? What if I had just thought the body in the coffin wasn’t his? And even if Edward was alive, how did that explain everything else? The dreams? The girl who was me? Neither of those made any sense or even seemed to have a connection with Edward. Maybe Edward was alive but I was still going crazy in other senses of it.

But I wasn’t going crazy! I just knew I wasn’t! I could tell that there was an at least somewhat understandable explanation for all of this and that Edward’s death was connected with the dreams and visions I was having. Besides, isn’t there that whole thing about crazy people never knowing they’re gong crazy? I was showing symptoms of schizophrenia – and I accepted that I was – but that wasn’t it. I wasn’t crazy!

I pushed myself faster, my legs screaming in protest. I couldn’t feel my feet except how cold they were. It felt almost like they weren’t there, like they had been hacked off and I was running on the stumps that were left. It was the weirdest feeling ever.

I looked around. The trees here were familiar. I knew where I was. Just a few seconds later, I broke out of the dense forest and into a clearing where a huge white house stood. My home. Alice’s yellow Porsche sat in the driveway next to Carlisle’s Mercedes. Everyone was home and I knew I was going to get chewed out the second I walked into the door. Everyone was probably going to be frantic with worry about where I went. And if not worried, at least ravenously mad that I had disappeared from my own husband’s funeral. I was quite scared to go into the house, especially with how much of a mess I must have looked like. Soaking wet, my feet bloody along with numerous scratches all over my face and arms. Everyone was going to be so mad that I had gone off and ran myself half to death so soon after losing Edward.

I walked through the door to find everyone converged in the family room, waiting for me. Renee and Esme were crying, Charlie was pacing, Alice was staring off into space again, and Emmett was cracking his knuckles nervously. They all looked up at me with looks of pure horror as they took in my bloodied, dripping wet look.

“Bella!” Renee cried.

“Where have you been?” Esme asked worriedly.

“Holy crap, Bells,” Charlie said.

“Hey, everyone,” I said in a defeated voice, taking a step into the room.

The world spun around me, everything blurring. A buzzing sound filled the room, overtaking me. I wavered on my numb feet and found the ground rushing towards me. Emmett’s strong arms caught me but everything remained spinning. My stomach heaved with nausea and I leaned over Emmett, throwing up the contents of my stomach onto the ground.

“Carlisle!” I heard Alice screeched through the buzzing though everything was strangely muted. “Carlisle, come quick! We need help!”

Emmett laid me on the couch and the room started to come back into focus. I chuckled slightly.

“It’s just vertigo, guys,” I said. “Calm down.”

Of course, no one calmed down when I proceeded to throw up again. It just riled everyone up again. Charlie was yelling at me, asking me if I knew what I had put everyone through in the last few hours. Esme was crying and asking if I was suicidal now, crying over the fact that she didn’t want to lose another one of her children. Emmett was cussing and for once no one was reprimanding him. Renee was sobbing even harder and Alice was hurrying to get a mop.

“What’s going on?” Carlisle asked, coming into the room looking frazzled. “Oh my god, Bella. Thank God you’re back. Alice, get a bunch of wet towels and bandages. Emmett, please go get my bag. Everyone please clear out for a few minutes.”

“Carlisle, I’m fine,” I said weakly, a wave of fatigue sweeping over me.

Emmett came back into the room, carrying Carlisle’s black bag. Carlisle opened it, pulling out a thermometer and a stethoscope. He shoved the thermometer into my mouth, nearly making me choke on it.

“Carlisle, really,” I mumbled through the metal stick in my mouth. “I’m fine.”

“Bella, you have a fever and I doubt you’re going to be able to walk on your feet for a week at the least,” Carlisle said, obviously scolding me. “What were you thinking running around for hours like that with no shoes? And you’ve ran yourself half to death. What the hell were you thinking? Now, I know you’re not one of my own children, but you have become like my own and I cannot believe your stupidity. Especially after Edward just died, I would have thought you had a little more sense than traipsing through the woods like that.”

But Edward wasn’t dead! I wanted to scream at them that my husband was alive and well. Ok, maybe not well seeing as how he was in my bedroom the night before telling me that they were coming for me, but still. Also, could my life have been any more horror movie-ish at the moment?

“Carlisle –” I started.

“And you’re refusal to take a god damn pregnancy test is just ridiculous,” Carlisle cut me off, fuming. “I get that you don’t want to be pregnant – none of you want that for you either given the circumstances – but if you are, we can’t change that now since I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to kill Esme and Alice and Rosalie, too, before any of them will let you get an abortion. If you are pregnant, we need to know so that we can get you on the right vitamins and health plan. I think you’re pregnant as well and we need to know.”

I felt my face harden. I bet Alice and Esme and maybe even the first doctor from the hospital when Edward “died” had put him up to this. And now I was pissed off that they were all ganging up on me. So I lied.

“I’m not pregnant,” I said firmly.

“How do you know?” Carlisle asked, raising in an eyebrow. “You can’t know until we give you a test.”

“Yes, I can,” I said. “My period – it came this morning. I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh…” Carlisle said. “Well, I guess you’re not then.”

“Yeah,” I said sadly, tears filling my eyes.

Truth was, even now that I knew my husband was still alive, I didn’t want to be pregnant. I couldn’t deal with that right now. Maybe later in life, once I found out what exactly had happened to Edward and had gotten him back, I could, but my life was looking more like a horror movie right now and that’s not a good thing to bring a child into. The pregnant chicks always have it the worst in horror movies and now my life was one.