Have you ever read a book over and over and over again? Read it so many times that the spine was cracked and the pages were falling out?

I'm what you would call a bookworm. All of my books are like this. I adore every book I read and I hold their stories close to my heart, always. And every day, I imagine what it would be like to be in those stories and in those magical worlds. To be Hermione and go to Hogwarts, to be Rose and attend the Vampire Academy, or even to be Annabeth at Camp Half Blood. It's a little embarrassing to admit, but every eyelash and 11:11 wish I made was about going into some fictional, magical world. I never really thought I'd get that wish.

Especially because I never wished to be in this world.

The alarm next to my bed blared and I slapped at it blindly until it shut up. It felt way too damn early to be doing anything, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. I was just about back in dreamland- Dimitri here I come!- when someone started shaking me.

"Honey, you're going to miss the plane!" A kind, yet unfamiliar, voice said. "Unless you've changed your mind?" I cracked my eye open to peer at the person who stood over my bed.

It was not my mother.

I didn't recognize the lady with the short brown hair and light blue eyes. Laugh lines decorated her face and she held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. She seemed nice, like that "cool mom" you always wanted, but I had no clue who she was. If I hadn't been half asleep, I'd have screamed. I'd have cried. Instead, I just looked at her blankly until she sighed and held out the mug.

"We have to leave in half an hour, Bella." She shut the door behind her as I blinked, the mug burning my hand a little. I sniffed the coffee and wrinkled my nose, setting it on the side table. I didn't drink coffee, not really.

Wait. Did she just call me Bella?

Now, my name is not Bella, or Isabella, or anything that could be remotely close to Bella. It's not important, what my real name is. It doesn't matter anymore. But right then, my half-foggy mind was whirring and I could tell something was off.

The room I was in was not my room. It was sparsely decorated and impeccably clean. The bookshelf was only half-full and the books were all older than I was. There was nothing new, no Eleanor & Park or Clockwork Princess. The only reason I recognized any of the books on the shelf were from required school readings. Wuthering Heights, Fahrenheit 451, Animal Farm. Not my taste, not at all.

I got up, thoughts of a possible kidnapping popping into my head. But the bedroom door didn't have a lock on it and the woman had been awfully nice- I think she had offered for me to stay and not go- wherever it was that I was headed.

I was getting a little confused. A small black bag sat on the desk chair and I grabbed it. The only things inside were a plain black phone and a plain black wallet. It was one of those ones made of duct tape- you know, the kind that third graders make. The first card slot held a license and I pulled it out.

A pretty brunette looked stoically ahead, her eyes dark and her hair straight. She didn't look familiar at all. I looked at the name and stopped. Isabella Marie Swan. The address was for Phoenix, Arizona and the girl was seventeen years old.

Bella. That was what the woman had called me. Had she thought I was this Isabella girl? I didn't look anything like-

Why did that name sound so familiar? Isabella Swan? Isabella Marie? Bella Sw- Oh. Oh.

No! Bella Swan was a fictional character, there was no way I had her license in my hand. The picture didn't even look like I pictured Bella from Twilight. The girl was too pretty, with prominent cheekbones, long eyelashes, and a heart-shaped face.

Besides, that was a book series! Bella wasn't a real person, so obviously I didn't have her wallet. I rolled my eyes at my stupidity and was about to put the license back when I happened to glance at the mirror on the vanity-turned-desk. My heartbeat quickened and I had to take a few deeps breaths to prevent the panic attack I could feel coming on. I didn't look like me. I looked like the girl in the picture. I looked like Bella Swan.

I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, dropping the license and wallet. This wasn't happening. This was not happening. This was a stupid dream and I was going to wake up at any second. I pinched my leg a few times, but it hurt like a bitch and nothing changed. I just stared at the ground, where the stoic picture of Bella stared back, mocking me.

There was a soft knock at my door. "Bella? This is your fifteen minute warning!" It was a male voice this time. I had to think a moment to remember Bella's stepdad's name. Phil.

"Okay," I croaked. "I'll be ready in a minute."

Well, now I had to get ready. It wasn't so hard, since there was a long sleeve blouse and a pair of jeans sitting on top of a suitcase that was in the middle of the room. I slipped the clothes on and stuffed the wallet and license back into the sad, small bag that must have been my purse. Bella's purse, I mean.

Because I was not Bella.

I opened the door and nearly ran into a teenage boy coming out of the bathroom. I looked at him with wide eyes as I stumbled back. He was tall and gangly, in that just-had-a-growth-spurt kind of way. His hair was a mess, sticking out every way, and the same shade of brown as mine- Bella's. His eyes, widened as mine were, were sky-blue and the kind of eyes I had always wanted to have.

I bumped the wall a little and the boy laughed. "Easy there, Bells. Do want to kill yourself before we even get to Hell- I mean, Forks." He winked playfully at me and jumped down the stairs, two at a time, while I just stood there, flummoxed.

It may have been a few years since I had last reread the Twilight series, but I knew for a fact that Bella did not have a brother.

So who the hell was that?