Chapter One


I woke to the sound of my alarm clock beeping noisily near my ear. I slapped the 'snooze' button and sat up; rubbed the sleep away from my eyes. The sun was shining through the curtains, something unusual of Forks, Washington. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet when I stood up. I made my way out in to the hallway and into the bathroom. Quickly, I stripped down and got in the shower. The warm beads of water felt good as they rolled down my body, unknotting my tense muscles from sleep. After I was done, I wrapped a towel around my body and dried off.

When I got back into my room, I went over to my closet. I pulled on a pair of blue jeans, and a Suicide Silence t-shirt. I quickly dried my long, wavy, brown hair and applied a lot of black eyeliner. When I was done, I slipped my old, dirty converse on. I threw my bag over my shoulder and went downstairs.

My dad, Charlie, was at the table in the small kitchen, reading the Fork's Advocate Messenger and drinking coffee. I sat down on one of the mismatched wooden chairs, and sat my chin in my hands.

When I spoke, my voice was low, but soft. "Mornin', dad. Late start at the station today?"

He took a sip of his coffee, black most likely, and nodded. "Yeah, Morris and Arnold said they would take care of things 'til the afternoon. It feels weird though, not being at the office, all suited up." I shook my head in agreement; he sat down the newspaper.

"So, anything good in there today?" I pointed my index finger to the heavy paper.

"Nope; every thing's all down in Seattle. Major killings' are spreading through downtown. All of them are said to be unknown; no fingerprints, not even a single hair to be found!" He exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table. I glanced up at the clock after his little speech and got up; went over to his side of the table.

I sighed heavily and kissed his dark, thinning hair, hoping he'd calm down. "Well, dad," I wasn't supposed to call him his real name around him, "I bet if you were down there, the case would be solved by now." His smile reassured me that he was now calm.

"Thanks, Bells."

"Yeah."

Charlie checked the clock on the microwave and looked up at me. "Time to go, Bella. Wouldn't wanna be late on your first day, now would you?" He asked, smirking.

"Ugh, I'm going, I'm going," I grabbed my Avenged Sevenfold hooded-jacket, and walked over to the door. "See you later, Dad!" I called, and stepped out into the brisk morning weather.

The drive to the school was dreadful. My mind wandered over the whole reason I was here, now, driving in the cold morning to a new school.

Phil.

Phil was my mom's newest husband; they got married late last summer. It was sort-of a quick decision. The wedding was beautiful, though; I will give them that.

For a few months, everything was fine. We went out to dinner, to the movies, to the park. But, when December came around... he changed. We never did anything anymore, Renee was depressed, and when he wasn't out and about with his buddies, he was mad all the time.

One time I came home late from school because the buses were late, and he slapped me across the face. I didn't tell my mother though; Phil's orders. So this month, January, I decided to come live with my dad for a while. I told my mother that I wanted to live in this rainy little town, and she about went nuts. The first time I told my mother, right after she went ballistic, she told me no. I then told her that I was old enough to make my own decisions for once; she said yes, and was happy I was beginning to act like a grown up.

I got here yesterday morning. Charlie had bought me this truck, the "Thing," he had called it. It ran great; I just couldn't go over sixty, though. I didn't plan on it.

All too soon, the school came into view. It wasn't hard to find; the sign in the front told me that I had located Forks High School, home of The Spartans, but it didn't look like I'd expected it to. The bundle of buildings where right off of the highway, in a small line. What got me, though, was that there was no fencing, absolutely nothing to keep the few rebels' from running away.

Huh, I thought.

I found a space near the front, and parked there; a loud Puff, and then a big cloud pronounced when I hit the brake. Great.

"Nice ride," an olive-toned kid snorted, standing by his friends, near the mouth of his van. I nodded and pulled the hood to my jacket up, looked down; got out.

"Thanks," I said awkwardly, walking to the school.

A blast of warm air hit me as I entered the office. An old lady sat behind a large desk, piled with rows of sign-up sheets. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses sat on her nose, and she wore a purple dress, which made me feel down-dressed. I sighed and went over to her.

"Hello," I told the secretary. "My name is Bella Swan; I'm new here." My voice was soft, but I knew I sounded nervous -- just a little.

She looked over her glasses and up at me, a smile plastered on her wrinkled face. "Chief Swan is your father?" She asked, standing up and smoothing her purple, paisley dress. I nodded slowly, and my brown hair fell out around my face. "It's a pleasure to meet you! Chief Swan is a wonderful man! It's an honor to have his very daughter, Bella Swan, here at Forks High School." She exclaimed. I felt a blush creeping up onto my cheeks. I glanced down at the brown carpet of the office, embarrassed.

My dad was a.. celebrity here. Gosh. Can you say 'small town?'

I answered her with a small smile, and nodded once more.

"Well, you are a shy one, I guess. I should have remembered your father telling me that. He told me all about you, young lady," She grinned. The look on her face made her resemble an old aunt, ecstatic to see her little niece or nephew. I cringed at the though of seeing my aunt.

"He did?" I choked up.

She giggled instantaneously with her answer. "Just kidding! Now let me get your schedule." Her little fat fingers filed through the filing cabinet so quickly, I had to hold back a laugh. "Ah, here we are." She placed a peach colored sheet on the desk and went through my classes with me, one by one. The next paper was a map of the school; she highlighted easy routes for me to navigate my way through the school. With an anxious look on her face, she scribbled my locker number on the top of the map, along with the lock combination.

Locker Number 357. 26-4-34

"Now, here's a paper that you need every one of your teachers' to sign, alright?" She shoved a cut-off white paper in front of my face, and I took it. Bidding me goodbye, she added, "Go along, Bella. Have a good day, and remember to give me the signed paper at the end of the day."

I nodded. My stomach fluttered with butterflies, and I made my way out into the marble-floored hallway. After a few moments of walking through the school, the map stuffed in my face, I found my locker.

Realizing that there was a thick sheen of sweat across my forehead, I stripped my jacket off and stuffed it in my locker, along with my bag. I got to first period algebra with barely a second to spare. Mr. Sylvester signed my slip and gave me a sit near the front of the room. I could feel eyes on my back as I tried to keep myself committed to taking the notes that were on the black-board, but it was difficult.

The day passed by slower than I hoped it would. I got stared at, ignored, and snorted at. By the time last hour came I was greatful. Even though it was my first day, Coach Clapp made me play the day's activity.

Clad in jeans and my t-shirt, I made an effort to keep up with the other student's in the gymnasium. We were playing dodgeball. Great. I moaned as a person on the opposing team threw a ball at me, hitting me smack dab in the center of my forehead.

The coach blew on his whistle once, and a blond-haired guy ran over to me. I rubbed my forehead, while the boy helped me over to the bench.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling down beside me.

I nodded once. "Yeah, thanks." I lied; it hurt like hell, and the expression on my face gave it away.

"No you're not," he chuckled. "I'm Mike, by the way. You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" I sighed as soon as he said those words. Apparently Charlie had spread the news around town of my arrival.

"Just Bella, please."

He nodded, and Coach Clapp blew the whistle. "Well that ends the game today! Hit the shower's." The coach walked into his office, and I stood.

"Uh... well nice meeting you, Mike." He smiled genuinely, and I walked out of the school and got in my truck. I made it to Charlie's quicker than I thought. When I got in, there was a note posted on the fridge.

B,

Would you run to the Thriftway for me, please? I know you love to cook like your mother, and I want the cupboards to be stocked for your work. The money is on the counter. Have fun.

Dad.

I sighed and looked out the window that was above the sink; It was pouring rain. I grabbed the money off of the counter and pulled my hood up; ran outside to my truck. When I got to the grocery store, I shoved the money in my pocket, and pushed the cart through the sliding door's.

I got a scrap piece of paper and a worn-down pencil from my purse, and made a list as I went. I made my way out to the parking lot with the cart loaded full of plastic bags. Even though it was wet, I put all of the bags in the bed of the truck and through the damp blanket over them.

The ride home was. . . . harsh, to say in the least. The radio didn't have a signal, and the thought of my mother flooded my mind. I did miss her dearly, but Phil - not so much.

Charlie was watching a game on the flat screen when I walked in; cans of beer lined the coffee table.

"Bella?" He called.

I rolled my eyes. "Who else, Dad?" I hated when he did that. It was like he thought I was a burglar or something. When he saw that my hands were full of bags, he helped carry them in the kitchen; helped me unload them.

He sat down afterwards. "I figured that since you went shopping, that you wouldn't want to cook so. . . . " He pointed to the microwave, "There's a few pieces of pizza in there."

I opened up the cupboard and stuffed the bread in. "Oh, thanks, Dad." I said with a sigh. He answered with a nod and got up, went back in the living room.

After I ate, I went upstairs to my room and finished unpacking my clothes.

With a sigh, I entered the bathroom, stripped down and got in; I smiled when the hot beads of water rolled down my body, unknotting all of my tense muscles from P.E. class. After that, I changed into my sweats and an over-sized t-shirt, got in bed with a sigh.

I couldn't sleep. Rain pelted the window; the wind blew violently. I just wanted to sleep, for God's sakes. I rolled over on my stomach, tears falling from my eyes. Could I do this every night? Not sleep? The alarm clock blinked in bright red numbers: 2:43 A.M. I groaned.

With the thought of my mother, I finally just closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me.