A/N: Hello people of fanfiction. This is my very first published story, and I really hope you all take the time to read it. It will be Dark Edward, and he will actually be… well, dark. It's gonna start off a bit slow, but please bare with me, it'll pick up in the second chapter. The Cullens DO NOT attend Forks High school. That needed to be said. This is unbeta'd, I warn you now. Aaaaand, I don't own Twilight.
Change. Something I've never been used to. Experiencing new places, meeting new people, and intriguing thought in theory. But I've never been one for it. I knew that. My mother knew that. Which is why she was completely thrown when I volunteered to move in with Charlie.
I couldn't blame her. I was a bit surprised by my forwardness towards the subject as well. But I knew my mother would be happier with me gone. I know what you're thinking "What a horrible mother," but things weren't how they seemed. Nothing was ever how it seemed with Renee.
Yes, she was in fact my mother, the woman who gave birth to me, but as far as who's the most responsible between the two of us, I would win with flying colors. My mother was young when she had me, her first child. She was still a child herself. When she had me though, she had to give it all up. In a way, I sort of robbed that childhood away from her. Now I'm just giving it back.
I didn't mind, not a bit. Besides my mother, and my dim-witted, yet well meaning step dad, there was nothing holding me here. Nothing that screamed Stay, Bella, stay! Which is just as well. There were certainly no friends here holding me back. You might think that was selfish of Renee, to just drop off with my father while she lived out her long lost youth. But my mother was always there for me, as I was for her.
I remember the kids sending me birthday invitations out of obligation, their faces clearly displaying reluctance. Renee would always make me go to them, saying I needed to get out more.
This one instance will forever be etched into my mind. It was Clara Stinson's 8th birthday. She was one of the richest girls in our second grade class, and somehow, even at that age she knew it. All the boys in the class had a huge crush on her, pulling at her golden ringlets whenever they had the chance, which of course meant 'I'm completely in love with you' at that age.
She walked up with me with the grace that only a kid who has been doing children beauty pageants from before they could talk possessed.
"Hello Isabella," she said with a honey-sweet voice and a practiced smile. "Here's an invitation to my birthday party," she said, disdain clearly showing in her eyes. I didn't really want to go, but mom always spoke to Mrs. Stinson while at the grocery store, and knew I would never get out of it.
At the party I watched the other children going absolutely mad. Screams and laughter filled the air, and I just stood at the sidelines gazing. My mother stood with the other parents, looking a bit out of place considering she was about ten years younger than all of the other mothers, but she held her own, every once in a while glancing at me to make sure I was okay. She made a slight gesture towards the other children, obviously telling me what she wanted me to do. I took hesitant steps towards the throng of screaming children, imminent fear coursing through me. She smiled encouragingly and turned her head slightly towards Mrs. Johnson, keeping me in her peripheral vision. All of the kids were getting in line to hit the piñata, the idea of receiving candy filling them with joy. I was about ninth in line, but soon the number quickly jumped to about twenty fourth as kids took the liberty to cut me in line. I didn't care, I didn't want to be here anyways.
Before Clara went to hit, she told us that if someone were to make candy fall out of her smiley face piñata, she would get time to sort through which candy she wanted first, and then leave what she didn't want to us. After she went, making only a few pieces of candy fall, she stood there, greedily waiting for others to do the job for her.
It was about 30 minutes before I went. I gulped as someone handed me the bat and another blindfolded me. I was spun around about four times before I was let go, left to my own devices. I was wandering aimlessly, hearing the other kids laughing hysterically as the screamed where the piñata was.
"Go left, go left!" five would yell.
"No right, Bella right!" seven others would squeal. I never knew who to believe.
As I swung, the bat hit dead air, as the laughter increased higher and higher. The candy was now forgotten. Their new source of amusement was watching me trip over my feet at I tried, fruitlessly, to hit the piñata.
I could feel myself getting irritated, the tears welling up in my eyes as frustration overtook me. The laughter filled my ears, and the feeling of just wanting to fit in overwhelmed me. I raised the bat to my shoulder, and made one last desperate swing. It finally made contact with something.
Clara Stinson's face.
I heard the laughter of the children come to a complete halt as I threw the bat on the ground and took off the bandana. I felt my blood rush to my face, as I looked down on a stricken Clara, wailing for her mother.
I must have said sorry one thousand times before I felt someone place their hands on my shoulders and turn me around. It was Clara's mother, and she was absolutely livid. Anger was clearly displayed on her face as she yelled how I was such a clumsy incompetent child. She bellowed from the top of her lungs how there would certainly be legal involvement if her perfect angel was injured. I was looking down, ashamed at my actions, when sensed my mother's presence. Anger was rolling off of her like waves, and although she stood behind me, I could tell that she was pissed off.
"Cover your ears Bella." My mother all but growled out. I didn't question her as I lifted my hands to me ears.
I don't know what my mother said, but my eyes took in the scene as I watched Mrs. Stinson's eyes widen as my mother gave her a piece of her mind. She glared at my mother with pure fury in her eyes, as she took a step closer to us. My mother instinctively put herself in front of me, blocking me from whatever Mrs. Stinson has in store. My ears were still plugged, and I gazed around as boys snickered, pointing at my mom, who was undoubtedly exorcising her right to freedom of speech. Mrs. Stinson said something back, causing the surrounding mothers to cover their mouth with their hands. My mother, to this day, will not tell me what stuck up, regal woman had said, but it must have been serious, because I saw as my mother's fist connected perfectly with the other woman's jaw.
About everyone's jaw dropped then. My mother then stalked out, pulling me in tow.
Let's just say I've never been to a birthday party since then, and Renee's conversations with Mrs. Stinson in the grocery store had come to an abrupt end.
Even though most kids probably don't even recall the incident, my small number of friends I had at that point dropped to zero, and never dared to increase again, even in my high school years. Don't get me wrong, people didn't dislike me. I just wasn't on their radar. I had brief to the point conversations with acquaintances in my class, and that's exactly what they were to me, acquaintances. I mean, I did have a few CRF. What is a CRF you might ask? Well, that's what I'd like to call classroom friends. We can talk, and maybe even joke a bit when in this one class, but as soon as we stepped out of that classroom, I was completely dead to them.
I didn't mind one bit. Being what a people would say, a "loner" suited me just fine. I wasn't like my peers, and I had come to accept that. They watched the Hangover, while I preferred Casablanca; they read magazines and comic books, while I enjoyed Emily Brontë. Being ignored and forgotten was completely familiar to me.
Which is why I didn't understand the people of Forks Washington at all.
They all held a fascination with me that I myself could not understand. Everywhere I went, people watched, clearly not used to seeing a new face in town. People stared blatantly, whether I'm walking the halls of the school, or eating in the only restaurant this small town provides. People would look at me like I was the second coming of _ (enter your favorite religious deity/role model here). Even their golden boy, Mike Newton seemed to have taken an interest in me.
What's more baffling is the fact that people talk to me. In class, I hear a chorus of "Over here Isabella," or "Sit with me Bella!" something I couldn't wrap my brain around. People actually wanted me to sit with them.
I was not used to this, and frankly didn't want this attention. I was not the person people asked to sit with. I was not the girl people hoped would be their lab partner. I was just plain ole Bella Swan.
So when Jessica and Angela invited me out to help them go dress shopping in Port Angeles, I could do nothing but acquiesce.
A/N: I know, I know. It was everything you already knew about Twilight with only minor changes made. But trust me, it needed to be done. Plus, I never liked the background information given in Twilight. Or lack thereof, really. I'd love it if you'd take the time to review, and comment on what you did/didn't like, what needs to be improved, everything. Thank you again for taking the time to read my story. Love&Deuces, LouLou.
