You Can't Heal My Wounds

The main reason I love Twilight is it's so easy to tweak the story, this is my first Twilight fanfiction.

You Can’t Heal My Wounds

Post-Eclipse, Alternate ending.

Chapter One: Feel the Burn
Greg smiled, turning on the radio. His favorite song came on, and soon we were both bobbing heads. He reached over, putting one hand on my shoulder, the other one on the wheel. We stopped at the intersection and—and—crunch. Spasms of pain shoot up and down my arms, my legs, my body.
“Drunk driver!”
“Head on collision!”
“This guys dead!”

I open my eyes, bright fluorescents causing me to immediately close my eyes, trying to retreat back into the darkness, the painless non-reality.
“Hello? Are you up?” A voice rings through the darkness behind my eyelids. I can’t place it, I don’t know it.
I groan, turning over in the direction of the voice. I open my eyes, and feel shocked. Well, not really. The last spring break I spent in high school, this girl fell down two flights of stairs and out a window. Not a big surprise she’s back so soon. The hospital probably gives her discounts, she would frequent here so much.
I look into the eyes of a girl who I’ve decided is my mini-me, Isabella Swan. My friends teased me when she arrived, how alike we were. The only differences were that my hair was mousier, my eyes electric blue.
“Yes.” I mutter, and the girl seems to notice, like she has bat ears.
“What?” She asks in an infuriatingly polite voice.
“Yes.”
“Oh, okay.” She starts picking at her nails, a large pile of gifts on her bedside stand go unnoticed. Mine holds nothing. Not even anything from Greg! And at that point the door opens, and I hear footsteps.
I recognize the doctor—Doctor Young. He is a family friend. “Hannah, how are you feeling?” He asks, like its dinner and we invited him over and I just told him how school was going, or my newest college rejection.
“Numb.” I say, after a moment of silence, trying too decide.
“Okay.” He says, making note of it.
“Where’s Greg? What happened?” I say, biting my lip.
Dr. Young looks quiet, as if he’s fearful of saying the news. That’s not good, not good at all.
“A drunk driver ran into you—Head on collision. You broke two legs, but the airbag saved you.” Dr. Young says.
“Where’s Greg?” I repeat, my voice rising. “What happened to Greg?” I say.
“Greg…” The doctor says with held breath, “Didn’t make it. He hit the airbags wrong.”
Airbags. Life savers, life enders.
“I’m sorry about your fiancé.” Robert Young says finally, leaving as I start to cry. Through the tears that blur my eyes, I see Isabella Swan look apologetic, like it’s her fault my fiancé died.
I cry- no that’s to weak a word- sob myself to sleep.


I awake to the murmurings of hushed voices. I see a unmistakable bush of red-brown hair, and learn Isabella Swan and Edward Cullen are still dating. A match made in heaven.
The hospital bed squeaks as I shift my weight, alerting them both. Edward turns, and Isabella looks in my direction.
An awkward silence ensues. “…Hannah?” Isabella says, not sure of my name. Arrogant. I remember hearing her stutter over names on her first day, when she would remember the Cullen’s names with no problems. “You remember Edward, right?”
“I remember the Cullen’s.” I say, defensive. “Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett were in my class.”
Edward scrutinizes me, before sitting on the cot in front of Isabella’s bed.
I close my eyes, wishing someone besides the doctor would come see me, like my parents or sister. But that would be too much too ask for, visiting your daughter/sister in the hospital who just lost her fiancé which was the equivalent of losing a limb, would get in the way of their work schedules! I say!


“Hannah?” A soft voice whispers, touching my shoulder. Holly. About time.
“Holly?” I say, looking at my best friend. Her cinnamon curls have lost their sheen, and she smells peculiar, like she hasn’t bathed in a while. “What black hole did you fall in?”
“The one called my dad having a stroke making me have to go to New Hampshire!” She snaps bitterly, “The stroke that freaking killed him!”
“Sorry.” I whisper, as Holly’s face droops. The one time I met her father before her parents divorced, he was a quite fat thirty-two year old.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been mean. Greg died. We can wallow in our misery together.” She says, sliding a card in my hand. I open it, and it obnoxiously begins singing “Umbrella” by Rihanna. Edward and Isabella look at us, Edward glaring. They turn back to their very-important top secret conference with Dr. Cullen, who looks exasperated.
Inside, Holly’s written something. I try to make out her illegible handwriting, but it proves impossible. Holly laughs at me and I pout, until she opens the card and reads: “Dear Hannah, you are the bestest friend! I feel really bad about Greg, and I’m really sorry I couldn’t visit sooner! xoxo, Holly.” She puts the card on the table, along with a box of something. I open it, and the sweet scent of chocolate fills the air.
“It’s what Greg would do. Besides, it’s impossible to recover from an injury without precious chocolate.” Holly says with a grin.
I pick up one, and bite in. There’s liquid chocolate inside, probably staining my teeth. I eat it, mmm’ing with pleasure.
Holly smiles, plucking another from the box. “Oh my god, I made a good choice.” She says, eyes wide. “Who’s a winsome friend? Holly’s a winsome friend!” I smile, taking another chocolate, before closing the box, putting it on the stand with the card on top.
“Your mom and dad might visit tomorrow.” Holly says, pulling out a piece of ultra-pepperminty gum, licking her lips.
“What’s holding ‘em up?”
“No idea. Nothing, probably. Work in front of physically and emotionally scarred daughter, you know.” She says, pulling up a chair, probably sick of standing on the wooden floor.

When Holly leaves, Isabella speaks. “Hi.” She says, ignoring Edward sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Hi.”
“I’m sorry about your fiancé. That’s gotta suck.” She says.
“Well, I had no idea!” I say, bitter sarcasm dripping from the words.
Isabella closes her eyes, and Edward looks at her curiously, squeezing her hand.
“Usually, people accept others kindness in these situations.” Isabella said obnoxiously.
“Well, I accepted Holly’s kindness, Isabella. However, I won’t accept yours.” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“Call me Bella.” Isabella says, annoyed.
“I don’t do nicknames. It’s Isabella, Isabella Swan, or Swan.”
“Fine. Isabella it is.” Isabella says grudgingly, but I see the glistening of tears in sunlight.


“Hannah!” My mom says, running into the room, throwing her arms around my torso, I’m sitting up in bed. It’s been a couple days, and Isabella’s left, I’m in the room alone.
My mother’s sobbing, my father is standoffish as always.
“Poor you!” She wails. “Greg didn’t deserve you, but he didn’t deserve this either!” My mom has an everlasting campaign against Greg, but this really hit a nerve. Why now?
My mother sees my pain, and apologizes.
For an eerie reason, I can almost feel Greg’s hand on my shoulder, I can almost see his smile.

Oh my gosh. XD I feel so bad for Bella now. Lol, nice job so far.