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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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