Disintegration by meimei42.pdf

Disintegration by meimei42

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4980170/1/

I never thought my life would turn out like this. I never thought I'd be that girl.

You know the one I'm talking about. The girl who's rushed into the ER at three in

the morning and the doctors and nurses have to fight for her life while they're

secretly wondering to herself if she's even worth it. She did this to herself, after

all. Wouldn't it be more merciful to just let her die?

Probably. Because dying is easy. It's recovery that's hard.

My name is Bella Swan, and I'm powerless.

Chapter 1: Powerless

When I woke up my eyes had to adjust to the brightness. Some asshole must

have thought it would be funny to open up all the shades in the house so the

walls were practically glowing with sunlight. I winced and adjusted in my bed to

try and get away from the obnoxious brightness, but in doing so, did something

to my hand. There was a flash of pain and I flinched, looking down in surprise to

see an IV sticking out of the back of my hand.

"…the hell," I whispered to myself, sitting up suddenly only to regret the decision

moments later. My head felt like someone had sat a house on it. This wasn't your

everyday headache, no this one was a powerhouse. I focused my thoughts as

best I could and tried to piece together what was happening. Something clicked

in my head. I was in a hospital. The brightness and white walls suddenly made

sense. I figured I'd just passed out at a friend's, but that obviously wasn't the

case. What happened last night that would make me end up in a hospital bed?

"I know it's new, baby, just try it…"

I shuttered, hearing James' voice in my head. What a prick. Whatever it was he'd

given to me much not have sat well. "Great," I huffed and laid back in the

uncomfortable hospital bed. So where did that leave me now?

I didn't have much time to think about it before I saw a nurse coming into my

room. I almost had to do a double take at the girl. She had to be like… not even

five feet tall. Was she even an adult? Did they send me the candystriper?

"Good morning Miss Swan," the little pixie greeted. I eyed her cautiously, taking

in her short and dark spiky hair and Bambi scrubs. The nurse seemed to notice

my stare and sighed. "I know, not exactly fashion forward, but wearing scrubs is

hospital policy and I hate those plain blue ones. Besides, the kids love the

cartoon character. It brightens their day a little bit I think. You can call me Alice,

by the way."

"Bella."

"Beautiful name," Alice smiled. "I'm just going to check your vitals and see how

you're doing. Gave us a bit of a scare there."

I nodded, though I had almost no recollection. It must have been a rough night if

I ended up in here though. James would have never brought me to a hospital

otherwise. Alice busied herself with checking monitors and readings outputs

before quickly assessing my temperature and blood pressure. When she was

finished she gave a bright smile and jotting some things down in my chart.

"So… when can I blow this joint?" I asked, twisting the edges of the hospital

blanket between my fingers. The fabric was scratchy and uncomfortable. It felt

foreign under my fingertip.

Alice clutched my chart to her chest and I saw her smile fade somewhat as she

came a little closer. "The doctor has to come speak with you about some things

first," she started, obviously beating around the bush. There was something she

wasn't saying. I could only think of two reasons she wouldn't be spilling the beans

right now. One: I was really sick, like gonna die or something sick. Two: The

police were involved with whatever happened. God, I hoped it was one. My record

was spotless. I didn't need one stupid night to ruin everything for myself. I had a

job, an apartment. A drug conviction would be bad. Very, very bad.

"What is it?" I asked, already planning my escape route. I jumped when she

reached out and laid a hand on my wrist.

"There is a police officer outside the room." So it was number two then. I felt my

eyes dart around the room, looking for a way out. "And before you even think

about the window we're on the eighth floor. Don't worry though, everything's

going to be okay," she finished.

I was trapped. Shit, shit, shit! I tried to calm myself down. There was a police

officer outside. I was going to get arrested. Maybe put on trial. I'd lose my job.

God, what the hell would Charlie say? He was the Chief of fucking Police back in

Forks; he'd probably disown me when he found out. Things were spiraling out of

control fast.

"Fuck, the police?" I asked.

Alice sighed and looked behind her quickly before continuing. "When you were

brought in you had a lot of drugs on you." Why would James bring me to the

hospital with drugs on me? He wasn't stupid. "Look, before you freak out, just

talk to Dr. Cullen, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded, trying not to panic. I needed James right now. He'd know what

to do; he could get me out of this mess. He'd had enough close calls with the law

to know what to do. Alice turned to leave the room and I felt myself calling out to

her. "Do I have anyone waiting for me?"

Alice paused and turned around. The smile she'd been wearing all morning now

completely gone. "No. I'm sorry, Bella. Is there anyone I can call?"

No. Calling James right now with a cop stationed outside my door probably wasn't

a good idea. He'd probably be pretty pissed too and there was no point in putting

us both in hot water. "No," I shook my head.

Alice gave me a sad smile before leaving my room. I stared at the door for a long

moment before letting out a long breath. This was bad.

Dr. Cullen came by my room around noon. Doctors in general tend to be

attractive just by the nature of their job. They're healers and they happen to

make a lot of money. But Dr. Carlisle Cullen was quite a specimen. He was in his

thirties, gorgeous and if I hadn't been as freaked out as I was about the whole

cop thing, I would have probably blushed ten shades of red the minute I saw him.

Lucky for me, I was too caught up in my blind panic to pay too much attention to

the blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.

Dr. Cullen moved around the room with a bit of a swagger. He smiled at me

before looking down at my chart. I watched him as inconspicuously as I could. He

had long eyelashes. They reminded me of James. "How are you feeling today,

Miss Swan?"

"My head is killing me," I admitted.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll have the nurse bring you some Tylenol," he said,

jotting something down.

"Tylenol?" I asked. It would do nothing for the pounding in my skull.

"Well Miss Swan—"

"Bella," I offered.

"Bella," Dr. Cullen nodded. "Obviously at with your addiction I cannot prescribe

you anything stronger than that right now."

"My what?" I spat. He did not just say I was addicted. Fucking doctors and

they're fucking God complexes. They think they understand the whole world. I

won't lie, I've done drugs, illegal drugs, but I'm not an addict. I'm always in

control. This jackass didn't know what he was talking about. I noticed Dr. Cullen

write something down and I felt my temper rise. "What are you writing?"

"Bella, I want to help you, I need you to understand that," Dr. Cullen started.

"Help me by accusing me of having an addiction?" I accused. He had no right. He

had no idea who I was. He didn't know anything about me. To walk in and make

such a claim was absolutely ludicrous.

"You've got a few options here, Bella," Dr. Cullen said. His voice was soft like he

was trying to calm a spooked horse. "I can only help you though if you're willing

to help yourself."

"I'm not addicted."

Dr. Cullen sighed and wrote something else down in my chart before he grabbing

one of the chairs and pulling it up beside my bed. "Bella, there is a police officer

outside your room right now just itching to talk to you. The only thing keeping

him outside your room is me."

"Is that some kind of threat?" I asked angrily.

"Not at all, Bella, but what you need to understand is you have limited options

right now. I believe everyone deserves a second chance. I saved you life; I'd

rather not send my hard work to jail."

"So… what?" I asked. I needed to calm down. My eyes were starting to water,

that tended to happen when I got angry. It was the most frustrating part of that

emotion.

"I need you to answer some questions. Truthfully," Dr. Cullen instructed. I

glanced at the door then back at my doctor, not answering. Was this some kind

of set up? "Whatever you say here is protected by doctor/patient confidentiality,"

he added after seeing me tense up.

"And no lawyer or judge can use it against me?" I asked.

"They won't even know about it. This is information I need to be able to treat

you, Bella," he explained.

I stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if he was being truthful or

not. James was an excellent liar and so it always had me questioning everyone

else's motives as well. Looking into Dr. Cullen's eyes though, I couldn't deny the

genunine concern. Maybe I was stupid for agreeing, but after a long moment I

finally nodded. "Fine. Ask."

Dr. Cullen gave me a sad but encouraging smile before launching into his

interrogation. "How long have you been doing cocaine?"

I flinched at the word 'cocaine'. I knew he was my doctor and that he had to have

known what I was on when I was brought in here, that didn't make hearing it out

loud any better.

"Bella?"

"It's recreational, that's it."

"That's fine, but I need a time frame," he pressed.

"About a year," I offered.

"And about how often do you use?" he asked, jotting some notes down. Those

were making me uncomfortable. I wanted to know what he was writing. Maybe I

shouldn't have trusted him. James would have kept his mouth shut. He would

have told me to keep my mouth shut too. "Bella?"

"The weekends mostly."

"Okay."

"Not every weekend though," I was quick to add.

"Do you use any other drugs besides the cocaine?"

I tensed, but answered. "Sleeping pills sometimes. It helps when I'm coming off a

high. And alcohol."

"Is that all?" he asked, his warm eyes holding mine. I breathed in and nodded

slowly, pulling at the hem of the hospital blanket again. Dr. Cullen flipped my

chart closed and leaned closer to me. "I know you don't think you have an

addiction Bella—"

"I don't."

"And that's fine, but right now you have two options in front of you: recovery or

jail time."

"No," I shook my head, appalled. He'd said limited options but what he'd meant is

no options. "I'm not an addict."

"Maybe not," Dr. Cullen agreed, though I was sure it was to placate me.

"I have a job, I can't go into rehab," I blurted out, my mind sorting through all

the reasons why this wasn't going to work.

"Your job will be there when you get out, Bella. I can't say the same if you go to

jail."

I gapped at him. He couldn't be seriously. These really couldn't be my only

options. It wasn't like I'd killed someone. I wasn't dealing. I was in my own house

doing something that shouldn't have mattered to anyone else. I wanted to

scream, I was so frustrated and trapped.

"Everyone will know," I whispered. Charlie would freak. Renee… God, Renee

would blame herself. No one at work would look at me the same. They'd all think

I was some druggy or something. That thought made me absolutely sick. "My

father… they'll all…. No, there has to be another option."

"I'm afraid you're out of options, Bella. I want to see you get help."

"Why do you even care?" I growled, forcing my frustrated tears at back.

"Because I'm a doctor. Because I don't think you're beyond help. Because when

your friends dumped you outside this hospital you were technically dead and I

brought you back to life. You may not be an addict, Bella, but you nearly died like

one."

"This isn't fair," I whispered, closing my eyes as a few tears slipped down my

cheeks.

"Your body is still recovering. I want to keep you here another day for

observation."

"And then what?" I asked.

"That's up to you."

"Not, it really isn't," I laughed humourlessly.

"Bella, you made choices. I don't judge them, but they have consequences. You

have one more left before you that will fundamentally alter the rest of your life. I

hope you make the right one." Dr. Cullen rose and stuffed his pen in his coat

pocket. "I'll have the nurse check on you in a little bit." He turned to leave.

"Dr. Cullen?" I asked.

"Yes, Bella?" he turned to face me.

"Did I…" I paused, searching for the right words. "Was I really dead?"

He appraised me carefully, eyes assessing my mental state before speaking.

"Clinically, yes. A few minutes longer and you would have been beyond our help.

Think about it, Bella." And with that he left.

There wasn't a lot to think over. Dr. Cullen had been right about one thing. I did

only have two options. There was always a guard posted outside the room. My

only way of not leaving the hospital in handcuffs was recovery. Rehab. Even the

thought of the word was absurd. I wasn't addicted. But what choice did I have?

Alice had come in to check on me several times that day. There was never any

word from James or any of my friends. I couldn't believe they'd dropped me off

outside the hospital for dead and they weren't even concerned about me. Not

even a call to check if I was alive. Fuck, when I got out of here, James was never

going to hear the end of it from me.

When Dr. Cullen checked on me before lights out I gave him my decision. I'd

check into rehab. He assured me nothing would go on my criminal record, though

my insurance company would be charged and certainly my employer had to be

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