READ AUTHOR'S NOTE AT BEGINNING OF FIRST CHAPTER!!
So, This is a recreation of Twilight. I just read the book on (last) Sunday and I've been dying to do my own version of it. Bella won't be exactly the same as the book, only Stephenie Meyer knows EXACTLY how Bella is. I don't like giving a false interperatation on how Bella would think and stuff. That's just my opinion.
Disclaim thing: I only own Annabelle, Ian, and Tom... Stephenie Meyer owns everything else… that was pretty obvious.
oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.--All the While--.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Why? I didn't ask him for this. Heck, I didn't ask anyone for this. So, I blame karma. Hey, I need someone to blame for the unfortunate events in my life. Again I ask, why? That was about the only question running through my head. Why on earth would my father want me to spend a whole year with him in that small town? What was it… it had something to do with silverware… Forks!! Ugh. I'm calling it Forks and Knives. I mean, moving there and seeing him again is just as painful as stabbing… never mind…
"Isabella," my mom, Annabelle, sighed. I turned my head towards her, without looking away from my iPod. "please give this a chance. I know that you just turned sixteen, but your father really does love you. And he deserves to spend time with you. He's just trying to stay in touch with his daughter." There she goes again, always trying to see the good in things. Well, when there's not good to see, I won't be there to hear that I was right. I'll be here in Forks and Knives.
I ripped the ear buds out and clutched the tan armrest angrily, my finger tips going a translucent whitish-yellow from the lacking circulation. "If he loved me five years ago, then why did he leave us for her?" I spat, my face stone-solid, to ensure myself that no emotion was splayed across my face. I was a master at controlling my unwanted emotions, but with this subject, I just… let my guard down with my mom. Of course she understood, but after Dad left for another woman—whom he later left also—Mom moved on to start dating a man who worked with her. Ian. He is honestly and awesome guy. I know for a fact that sooner or later, they will get married. Maybe then my family won't feel so broken. Anyways, I'm glad that he and my mom are so… bonded. She's happier with him. I guess that I'm just afraid that he will hurt my mom (like Dad did) when I go to visit Dad in Forks and Knives.
Mom ran her slender fingers through her shoulder-length reddish brown hair. "Bella, that was five years ago." Bella is my nickname. I mean, wouldn't writing 'Isabella' all the time get a little annoying? Especially with my level of patience.I got my name (Isabella Swan) from my great grandmother Isabella. Everyone says that she and I are so similar, that we could be twins… and that I'll look like she did when she was seventy-three. My other great grandmother was from the Ukraine (near Poland).
My voice was unrecognizably broken as the words "Then why does it still hurt?" flowed from my stalling lungs. Sometimes it felt like I was the only one who understood this kind of unconditional pain. The only one who felt like not surviving it, at least.
Mom glanced in the rearview mirror at the tailgating car behind her and spoke, "I don't know, honey. I honestly don't know." Her voice, like mine, was not hers. And I instantly regretted my feeling of unconditional pain when I saw a small tear run down her smooth cheek. Mom was not the type of woman who cried a lot. She's whom I got the part of my personality that controlled emotions. Making Mom cry—even unintentionally—was big. I slumped back in the plush seat, ashamed of what I had said; knowing that backing down now was the best thing to do. I focused on repairing the hole in the wall holding back all my emotions that was causing the rest to slowly crumble.
Stupid, stupid Bella. I hated when I made Mom feel like this. I closed my eyes and waited for us to get to Forks and Knives. I slumped farther into the seat so when I looked straight ahead, I saw the textured cover of the glove box.
My mom clicked her tongue from the roof of her mouth and scolded, "Isabella Swan! Do you want your spine to be permanently damaged? I swear…" she shook her head and glanced at me from the corner of her eyes. A playful smile spread on her face as I chuckled and straightened up.
"Sorry mommy." I smiled.
We made small talk until we saw a small, old, beaten sign a few hundred feet ahead of us. I saw Mom get that familiar smile on her face, and the far-off look in her eyes. She had always loved Forks and Knives. Always.
Welcome to the sunny town of Forks!
Even though the sign was still about one thousand feet ahead of us, I could make out the faded words. Hallelujah, contacts! There was a line of deep black spray-paint through the word "sunny". Why was sunny crossed— CRAP!! There was a light rain, but definitely enough to make the roads slick. Geez, if the rain is only like this, Forks and Knives must be rainier than I thought. I mean... I'm used to the nice New Jersey weather. I even have a decent tan for once! That's hard for me to do! To get a tan, I will burn intensely and then I will get really itchy. After a week of red skin (no pealing, thank the good Lord), the red will turn into a warm tan color. Ah, the joys of my life…
Oh! Sorry, that was way off topic. So where was I… right! I am not the 'rain excessively' type person. "You have entered the Twilight Zone." Geddy Lee's voice told me… in song (Ooo…). Yep, got that right. I sighed, running my fingers through my chocolate colored hair (with hints of reddish brown—courtesy of Mom—natural highlights). It had lightened over the half-summer I had with light. I figured I wouldn't be getting much of the precious rays here.
Mom pulled my old mustang (from my loving grandfather who had bought it brand new… in the late 60s) into a small neighborhood. The houses all had their own… personalities that I guessed reflected the owners.
"There it is!" Mom squealed. Squealed. Ew. I looked up to see a small, two-story crisp white house. The sturdy white door was framed with navy molding, as was the windows. The lawn was bright green, from all the lovely rain. In the small porch that had a wooden oning (attached to the house) was a small wooden bench that matched the color of the molding. This house looked fit for the Jersey shore or something rather than rainy old Forks and Knives. Sitting on top of the roof was a weather vane, which was currently still, as the rain had stopped. Of course, the clouds still flooded the sky like still ocean water, but it was progress! Go earth!
"Well! Come on Bella! I have to make my flight back to Jersey before work tomorrow!" Mom clapped her hands together and got out of the car. I sighed and followed. I slapped the door opened and slammed my black converse to the wet ground, sending small water droplets onto my bare legs. Ugh. Even though I was wearing shorts, I wasn't cold. I never got cold, unless it was snowing outside. I held my iPod as I stuffed my hands into the bright blue jacket and watched a silver Volvo pass, the car slowing slightly, but trying to be subtle. The driver glanced over at me, as did the passenger. They were two guys, probably close to my age. I walked to the door, completely ignoring them and stepped up the stairs carefully, as to ensure that I wouldn't slip in the wet and grassy steps… like usual As I stopped, I let out a breath, blowing my bangs from my eyes.
The door swung in, and there stood my dad. He looked almost the same: a slender body, muscles, and a youthful face. The only thing different was that his hairline was getting high. Ha ha, my daddy was balding.
"Annabelle," my dad smiled greatly and hugged my mom tightly. My mom replied with a light "Tom," in his shoulder. It was no secret that my dad still loved her. He used to come to our house and beg her to take him back after he dumped his girlfriend. He never liked talking about what happened between them. Neither did she. It was like a secret that they had, but everyone knew about it. Dad let go of Mom, and turned to me. "Is that my little girl?" I smiled smally. He also knew that I was still mad at him. I saw that sad depth to his chocolate eyes that had a certain level deep in his eyes that was like liquid sorrow. No tears, but he was still hurt. That layer would probably scare him forever. I widened my smile so he would feel that it was genuine. Dad scooped me up in a huge hug. I hugged back, with one other thing on my mind…
Well, Home sweet Home…
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... YEP! That was short, I know, but once I really start getting into it, I will make longer chapters. But you know what makes me more into it... (i couldn't hear you...)
GOOD JOB! REVIEWS! Is that a shock or what? Ha, so here's a tip: the awesomest reveiws will win a prize!! I'll tell you what you win in the next chapter IF you give back a little!
--.twilight.is.here.