Hey, guys. So this is my second story, still have to finish the first. I got bored studying and decided to start a new story so it's a bit rough so please excuse the mistakes.

I don't own twilight, I just like using the characters

Enjoy reading!

When I was a little girl I believed in true love. I would beg my mother to read me a bedtime story of a lost girl who is recused by a prince and they would fall in love at first sight and live happily ever after. I had always believed that what my parents had was true love. The kind of love you only read about in fairy tales. I was a silly little girl blinded with the idea of true love. I was so enwrapped with the idea that I failed to see their relationship for what it truly was. By the time, I realised that my parents love for each other was not one of a fairy tale but more like one from my worst nightmare. In one awful night I managed to lose my mother, believe in true love and my voice. Just as it took one night to rip apart my life, it also took just one man to put the pieces back together. Now before I get ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

My name is Isabella Swan, daughter of Charles Swan and Renee Swan. My father is the proud, egomaniac owner of Swan Vineyard and Brewery. I grew up on the family vineyard in Lowden, Washington. My father had perfected the perfect Sauvignon Blanc and there was never a shortage of wine at the dinner table. My father oversaw the operation of the vineyard and brewery as well as trying to create the next best wine and beer. When I was a little girl I use to follow my dad around like I was his tail. I had absolutely loved running through the vineyard barefoot, feeling the heat under my feet during the summer. I only ever once tried to eat one of the grapes. I remember to awful bitter taste it left in my mouth even after I spit it out. As I was only five at the time I started to panic. I ran as fast as my little legs would move back to the house in tears. The bitter taste wouldn't leave my mouth and I was convinced I ate a bad grape and I was going to be sick. I ran up the stairs at the back of the house that lead to the balcony which overlooked the vineyard. My mother was sitting in one of the lounge chairs, sipping on her famous iced tea. I quickly ran up to her and when she saw my tears she nearly dropped her iced tea to attend to me. I still remember the look on her beautiful face as she tried not to laugh at me as I told her what happened. She gave me her iced tea and wiped away my tears.

My mother was the heart and soul of our family. She was always there if you needed something. As my family was ridiculously wealthy, my mother never needed to work and she spent her time keeping the house and looking after my sister and I. She was known around the community for her good heart and generosity. She was dedicated to helping those in need. She was my hero growing up. My sister, Rosalie, shared my mother's beautiful features. They shared the same long, golden blonde hair, icy blue eyes and perfectly curvaceous body. I took after my father. We shared the same shade of chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. I had gotten my heart shaped face, height and full lips from my mother.

I had foolishly believed that I had the perfect family when I was young. We had the perfect house, the perfect friends, and the perfect life. How wrong I was to believe such a silly thing. It is true what they say about nobody knows what happens behind closed doors. I still remember the day those doors opened in front of me, it was burned into my memory for eternity. September 13th, 1992, the day of my seventh birthday. Rose came running into my room, jumping up and down on my bed. She was nearly more excited about my birthday than I was. We laughed and giggled about how my dad will frown about his little girl growing up too fast and what disastrous birthday cake my mother had made. My mother had never been very good in the kitchen, her food best described as interesting experiments. My birthday started out great. We were treated to chocolate chip pancakes, made by my dad, for breakfast. The entire house was decorated with balloons, banner and strings. It looked like a circus threw up over the house, but I loved it. The day had passed in a blur of play with friends, opening presents and trying to hide the uneaten birthday cake. By the end of the day, the festivities had taken its toll on me and my eyes fell close on the couch. I vaguely remember the feel of my dad's arms lifting me and carrying me to bed. I had woken during the night as I grew very thirsty. I stumbled my way towards the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my tired eyes. As I walked down the hall, I noticed the light in the living room was still burning brightly. The door was slightly ajar and I placed my hand on the door knob ready to open the door to see who was still up. My hand froze on the door knob when I heard my father scream. His voice held so much anger that it sent a chill down my body that seeped into my bones. I slowly pushed the door open a bit more so that I would be able to see who he was having an argument with. I heard my mother sob before I saw her. With the door open enough and my presence not known, I had managed to slip into the room and hide behind the couch closest to the door. My father was red in the face and his fists were clenched at his sides while my mother was pale and sobbing. I can still hear his words resonate in my mind, "You dirty fucking whore! I knew it! God damn it, Renee, I gave you everything and how do you thank me? You go fuck the local priest behind my back!"

My mother tried to respond but before the words had a chance to leave her mouth my father slapped her, hard, across the face, causing her to fall the floor. I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop the gasped from leaving, making my presence known. I felt so small and frightened. I watched shocked as my father continued to hit her, kick her, curse at her. I felt helpless watching. I rose to my knees, determined to help my mother and stop my father from hurting her when I saw she was bleeding. Before I had the chance to move from behind the couch I heard the shot go off. I froze once more, not able to move or form words as I watched the blood pour out of my mother's chest. She laid there in a pool of her own blood as my father stood over her clutching his treasured revolver. I stepped from behind the couch and crouched down beside my mother. Her eyes were open, but there was no light left in her. I could feel the tears stream down my face as I moved my small hand over her face, closing her eyes. My father moved towards me, but I scrambled back. He said words but to this day I still have no idea what he said to me that night. When he tried to move closer once more I jumped to my feet and ran. I ran as fast as I could. The rest of that night is just a blur. I woke up in my bed the next morning, still unsure of how I got there. When I woke and made my way back to the living room, there was no sign of what had happened the previous night. My father told the police that someone had broken into the house and attacked my mother. According to him, the burglar killed her before he could stop him. That is the story that got published in the newspapers, the story told at her funeral. When people came up to me to offer their condolences I remained silent. I remained silent, mute for a very long time, twenty-two years to be exact. According to the many psychiatrists, I saw in my lifetime the cause for my mutism was post-traumatic stress. The death of my mother had cause my new found mutism and they all said the same thing; "She will talk again when she is ready." Little did all these highly qualified and overpaid psychiatrist know the truth of that night, nobody apart from my father, my mother and I knew.

Our lives went one, the memory of my mother was soon erased by my father. He didn't allow us to talk about her or keep any photographs. Rose and I grabbed as many photos of her as we could and hid them in a box in the attic. When I turned ten, my father met Sue Clearwater. When I was thirteen Sue became my step-mother. She was a divorcee with two children, Leah and Seth. I have only met them a hand full of times as they live with their father in a small town called Forks. Sue was indifferent to Rose and I. If she had her way, we would have been shipped off to boarding school the moment she became Mrs. Charlie Swan. My father, to my dismay, refused to send us away. I spent the remainder of my childhood learning to play the piano. The piano was my escape. I no longer had words to share with people, so I shared music. Rose was very patient with me, always worried more than she should have. She practically babysat me all throughout our school days. Rose was my polar opposite. She was beautiful, confident and brave. I was timid, plain and a coward. I stood by and watched as my father murdered my mother and never spoke a word of it to anyone, other than Rose and the man that changed my life.

I still smile when I think back to the first time I laid eyes on him. The summer before I turned sixteen, my father hired the son of one of his most trusted employees. My father trusted Carlisle with overseeing certain aspects of looking after the brewery, but he would never socially mix with him as they were seen as beneath him. My father was a firm believer in the 'social class system'. In his mind, if you have money, you should not 'mix' with the poor. That summer, Charlie, hired Edward to look after the garden and help out in the vineyard when needed. My father had taken it on himself to show Edward around the garden and explain what he expected from him. I was in our solarium, playing the piano when I first noticed my father walking around in the garden. He had his back turned to me and was talking to someone while gesturing with his hands. The person who my father spoke to was taller than him, not by much, but I could see a wild mess of bronze hair standing out above my father's head. I stopped playing the piano to stare at the mystery person. I remember my fascination with the colour of his hair. In the sun, it shined and looked close in colour to a penny.

After a few minutes my father turned around, gave me a small wave and walked the opposite direction. I can still feel the blush that crept up my skin as I took in the sight before me. I was dumbstruck at the beauty of the boy staring at me. I had managed to return the small wave as I continued to stare and the bronze haired boy. He was tall, lean but had muscles that teased you through his tight white t-shirt. He wore khaki coloured shorts that stopped above his knee and wore worn our converse. His face, god I still remember how much I craved to touch that beautiful face. He had big eyes, slightly smaller than mine, and even from that far away I could see they were a brilliant shade of emerald. He had high cheekbones that models would kill for, his jaw angular and his nose slightly crooked. And then my eyes fell to his mouth. Those full, berry red lips begging to be kissed. His lips turned into a crooked smile, a smile that soon became my favourite smile, as I continued to stare. My eyes snapped up to meet his eyes that had amusement dancing in them. I'm pretty sure my blush at that point resembled the colour of a tomato. I all but ran from the solarium, trying to get away from the embarrassment of being caught staring and the sudden butterflies that formed in my stomach.

I can still remember Rose's animated face as I tried to explain to her with my wild hand gestures. After I calmed down I managed to use sign language to explain to Rose what had happened. She laughed so hard at my embarrassment that she nearly fell out of her desk chair. She went on to explain to me that the beautiful boy working in our garden is soon to be seventeen-year-old Edward Cullen. He went to the same school as us, on a basketball scholarship. According to Rose, he had worked odd jobs every summer and weekend to try and save up for college. The little pieces of information Rose gave me only served to increase my curiosity of the dreamy boy.

The rest of the summer, I spent most of the day locked in the solarium, playing piano and admiring Edward when he was working in the gardens. Four weeks and three days. That is how long it took me to gather up the courage to introduce myself to Edward. Granted it wasn't much of an introduction considering I can't speak. I was lost in my piano, trying to compose a new piece. When I took a break to get something to drink as the heat was scorching and the solarium was close to becoming unbearable with the heat. As I got up from the piano. I noticed Edward hard at work in the garden. He was digging up the ground. I watched as he removed his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his face. My heart had nearly leaped out of my chest at the sight of a shirtless Edward. There was no other word I could use to describe him other than delicious. And boy was that an understatement. His body glistened in the sun and his abs had just the right amount of definition. My eyes ranked up his body, licking my lips as I admired him. When I reached his face a felt a pang of guilt hit me. He was slightly red in the face and was swaying. The sun was clearly too much for him and As I watched him become more unbalanced I feared he might faint. I quickly made my way outside and walked right up to him and froze. I remember thinking, "Well shit, what do I, do now? "

Edward ran his hand through his unruly hair as he carefully watched me with those soulful emerald eyes. As the silence between us grew heavy and heated I unconsciously licked my lips as they felt dry from the heat, or because of Edward would be a more accurate reason. I bit my lip as I looked up at him through my lashes, hoping and pleading with my eyes for him to say something. When he finally broke the silence, introducing himself, I felt the butterflies go crazy in my stomach. When he offered out his hand for me to shake my mouth went dry and my knees weak. When I shook his hand the air around us sizzled with electricity and my skin felt much more heated. Before my nerves got the better of me, I grabbed Edward's hand and led him to the kitchen. I knew he needed to cool off before he got sun stroke.

We sat in the kitchen, each with a cold bottle of water. I made us sandwiches and we ate in comfortable silence, both of us sneaking the occasional peek at one another. Edward broke the silence, asking in his soft velvety voice; "I take it the rumour that you can't speak are true?" I simply nodded in response, while embarrassed. I looked down at the sandwich in my plate which had suddenly become unappetizing to me. I wished that I was normal and that I could speak to the beautiful boy in front of me. Edward reached across the table and placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face till I was looking into his eyes. He comforting words washed over me; "There is nothing for you to be ashamed about. Being different is a gift, not a curse." His eyes held so much sincerity that every time I felt like a freak, I just needed to think of his words and those eyes to make myself feel better. Our moment in the kitchen was abruptly cut short when my father started calling for Edward from outside. Edward practically ran out of the house to find my father.

The summer continued on with Edward working hard in the garden and the vineyard. We continued to steal glances at each other and I blushed furiously every time he caught me. One day he left me a beautiful white rose resting on my piano. My heart rate picked up as I brought the rose to my nose and smelled it. I placed the rose in a small vase on the bedside table and looked at it every night before I fell asleep and greeted with it in the morning until it died. In turn, I made Edward sandwiches every day and left them in a brown paper bag along with a bottle of water and a chocolate bar at the shed where all the gardening gear is kept. Our stolen glances turned into heated stares as summer drew to a close. Edward started leaving me notes on my piano, telling me things such as I looked beautiful, my laugh brightens his day. His words melted my heart and soon enough we started exchanging letters.

Edward was intelligent, passionate and as close to perfect as someone can get. My heart grew heavy when his last day arrived. Summer was over and Edward and I will return to school and I wasn't sure if I would get to see him every day. My father and Edward had come to an agreement. Edward would continue to work on the weekends and with the return of summer he will return full time. Rose had left me alone to wallow in self-pity as I locked myself in the solarium and played the saddest melody on the piano. I was so caught up in my piano that when dusk was near I realised Edward had left me a note hidden under the lid of my piano. The note simply read "Meet me at dusk in the vineyard, Love Edward."

My breath got caught in my throat and my heart thumped wildly. I ran to the vineyard, afraid that I was too late. I was out of breath when I finally reached the vineyard. I slowly walked through the vineyard, searching for Edward. It didn't take me long to spot his unruly hair. Edward grabbed my hand and we walked down a bit further, where he had placed a small blanket. We laid on the blanket, watching the sun set behind the mountains. The view was picturesque, but it was the boy next to me that stole my breath and my heart. Before the sun had set completely, Edward leaned into me and whispered into my ear how beautiful I was. He slipped his hand into my hair as his thumb stroked my cheek. The moment his lips touched mine, I knew that there will never be anyone else. I was hooked and for the first time in nine years I felt like life might just be ok again. His lips were soft and warm. Once I got past the shock that this gorgeous boy was kissing me, I responded eagerly, and perhaps too eagerly as I pushed Edward onto his back. Our kisses grew heated and hungry. I can still feel my toes curl in excitement when he slipped his tongue past my lips. When we broke apart to breathe, Edward rolled us over and placed open mouthed kiss down my neck as his hands ran down the sides of my body. My breathing grew heavy and my stomach tightened deliciously. I wanted more of Edward and at that moment I wasn't sure what it was that I craved.

After a few more minutes of hungry kisses and exploring hands, Edward stopped and told me that he needs to get me home before I got into trouble. Like the gentleman he is, Edward walked me home and kissed one last time before letting me sneaking into the house unnoticed. I joined Rose, Sue and my father for dinner, having made it back just in time. I listened to the chatter of my family but not hearing a word they said. My mind kept running over my evening spent in the arms of Edward. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face as I remembered the way he kissed me. We were to return to school on Monday morning and it couldn't come fast enough in my teenaged mind. If only I knew back then what I know today, then I would surely not be wishing away time.

Next chapter will be more about Bella and Edward's relationship during their teenage years ;)