IED.pdf

Prologue

IED.

Intermittent Explosive Disorder—

--Behavioral disorder characterized by extreme expressions of anger, often to the

point of uncontrollable rage, that are disproportionate to the situation at hand.

--IED is a mental disturbance that is characterized by specific episodes of violent and

aggressive behavior that may involve harm to others or destruction of property.

Persons with the disorder experience violent and aggressive behavior that often results

in property damage and physical bodily harm to others. These intense episodes occur

spontaneously, not in response to provocation. Often, individuals express extreme

regret and remorse as soon as the episode is over. Usually, he/she does NOT exhibit

aggressive tendencies in between episodes. Onset of IED is usually between late

adolescence through mid twenties.

“Often it is the most deserving people who

cannot help loving those who destroy them.”

--Herman Hesse

EPOV

Bella and I knew we’d always be together.

There’d never been any discussions about ‘being exclusive’ or ‘where is this going.’

Since the seventh grade, when a volleyball smacked her in the face and I’d been

elected to walk her to the nurse’s office, I have been hers.

More philosophical people may say our connection formed when the blood from her

lip stained my hands.

True believers in fate might say that volleyball brought us together.

My answer is much more simple: it was love.

If I am certain of anything, it is that I love her and that I always will.

That is the truth I live for, the religion I cling to.

While it’s true that the following series of events were unforeseen and nightmarish,

they haven’t changed my truth.

The thing is, you can’t change the truth.

You can’t turn it in to something else or let go of it or deny it.

It just is.

While all else will waver or rot, she will always be my one true thing.

Nothing she has done, nothing she will ever do can change that.

Whether I like it or not.

IED, Chapter 2

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4402221/2/IED

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Books » Twilight » IED

jandco

Author of 14 Stories

1. Chapter 12. Chapter 23. Chapter 34. Chapter 45. Chapter 56. Chapter 67. Chapter

78. Chapter 89. Chapter 910. Chapter 1011. Chapter 1112. Chapter 1213. Chapter

1314. Chapter 14

Rated: M - English - General - Reviews: 1,138 - Updated: 08-17-08 - Published: 07-

17-08 - Complete - id:4402221

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

An: thank you to everyone who read the prologue!

Ok, so, if anyone has any questions AT ALL regarding the subject matter, please

message me and ask, and I’ll do my best to answer, using the not so extensive

research I’ve done.

I want everyone who bothers to read this to have a clear picture of what is going on,

so please don’t hesitate.

However, lots of questions will be answered regarding the disorder, as Edward finds

these things out.

Onward…

Chapter One

EPOV

The accident wasn’t even that bad.

Frankly, I’ve seen her do much worse.

“Let me do it,” I said, anxious and impatient.

“No. You leave streaks and I’m almost done anyway,” she said, not looking down

from her perch on the ladder.

I held the ladder tight, in an attempt to steady the not so steady Bella.

It was early spring, we were washing the windows.

I let out a loud sigh.

Bella looked down and squeezed the soapy sponge, raining the water on my head and

laughing.

“Cute,” I said, shaking the damp hair from my eyes, not taking my hands from the

ladder.

My eyes fell on the suds now trailing down her legs.

I let one hand off the ladder and let my fingertips trail up the back of her thigh.

She looked down over her shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Really, Edward? Chicks in soapy water? How original,” she said, feigning

annoyance.

I shrugged and put my hand back on the ladder and nodded for her to continue, then

trained my eyes at her feet, so I wouldn’t be tempted to stop her again.

She leaned forward and attempted to stand on her tiptoes, but the soapy water had

made the soles of her tennis shoes slippery and…it happened.

She flew forward and I grabbed her waist before she hit the ground, but not before I

heard a sickening thwack when her forehead smacked the cement window sill.

I flipped her toward me, her face was an inch from mine.

She stared at me for about five seconds before letting out a blood curdling scream of

pain.

“Okay, we’re okay…baby, you’re okay…” I whispered softly under her screams as I

ran her inside and lay her on the couch.

She had a concussion, I knew it the second I looked in her eyes and saw her

mismatched pupils.

I grabbed some ice from the freezer, but didn’t bother wrapping it in anything, I just

held it over the huge welt forming on her head.

“Fuck that hurt!” she spat, clutching my wrist as I held the ice in place.

“Are you dizzy?” I asked.

“Hell yes I’m dizzy!”

“How many fingers?” I asked holding three fingers in front of her face.

“Three. I’m fine, it just hurts,” she said, and I noticed tears leaking from the corners

of her eyes.

I used the palm of my hand to wipe her tears and asked if she felt nauseous.

She didn’t.

I asked her to move her neck, she did.

I asked her questions, all of which she answered.

I woke her every hour on the hour.

I did everything I’ve been trained to do.

I knew concussion procedure like the back of my hand, I treated them daily…it was

mere child’s play.

She hadn’t even lost consciousness.

There was barely any blood, only a nasty scrape.

The next morning, aside from a nasty wound and a dull headache…she was fine.

So, you see, it wouldn’t have made a difference if she went to the hospital or not.

The damage was done, we just didn’t know it.

Two Months Later

I busted in to the bedroom, a towel barely hanging from my waist and water still

dripping from my hair. I stole a quick glance at the blue, glowing numbers on the

alarm clock, next to the bed.

4:42 A.M.

I was going to be late.

I grabbed a fresh pair of scrubs from the dresser, there wouldn’t be time to change at

the hospital. I ran the towel through my unruly wet hair, combs were useless to me,

anyway.

The room was still dark, so I let my hand feel around blindly over the top of the

dresser for my hospital I.D.

Some change, my keys , Bella’s hand lotion—no I.D.

I hated doing it, but I flipped on the light.

I didn’t want to wake Bella, she’d been so busy with work and school lately, she

needed the sleep. Plus, she’d been unusually irritable the past few days, I just wanted

her to rest…but I was late.

She groaned and rolled over in the bed.

I walked to the side of the bed and looked on the nightstand for the I.D.

No luck.

Despite my rush, I stopped and gazed at Bella.

Even in a sweaty, fitful sleep, she took my breath away. Her dark hair was knotted,

damp with sweat and fanned out over the white pillow case. Her delicate eyebrows

were knitted together and her jaw was clenched tight.

I sighed.

She’d been under stress lately, trying to work and keep up with a summer program at

the graduate school, she’d been determined to graduate in the fall, taking on way too

many classes.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t been around too often, lately.

I told myself things would be better soon, we were going through this now to get

where we wanted to be. Sure, it was hard now, but we’d agreed it’d be worth it in the

long run.

I couldn’t help myself, so I leaned down, brushed some loose hair from her face and

softly kissed her temple.

She immediately jerked her head away and snapped her eyes open, scowling up at me.

“Relax, it’s just me,” I said, all too aware of her nightmares.

“I know it’s you,” she said, but her expression didn’t change.

I straightened myself and looked down at her, perplexed.

She certainly wasn’t mad before we went to bed…I let it go.

“Have you seen my I.D.?” I asked her.

She sat up in the bed and glared at the clock.

“Have you seen the time?” she asked in an acid tone.

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up—“

“Well, you did,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

It was odd, for Bella to be so hostile…without having a reason, anyway.

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