Chapter 1: The Invitation

Light showed through my bedroom curtains but no way was I ready to get up. My body was programmed to my school schedule and now that it was summer, there was no way that I was getting up at six o'clock when there was no school to attend. The light in front of my lids grew more reddish-orange.

"Fine," I groaned, "I'm getting up." I opened my right eye then my left and turned toward my alarm clock. Seven am. I groaned again and pulled the sheets up over my head. Summer only meant longer days, which in turn translates in to the sun coming up earlier. However, in Texas the sun always shined.

I reluctantly pulled the covers away from my head and stared at my ceiling. It's the first week of summer and already I'm bored of it. There wasn't a lot to do in a small town especially in Texas. The climate was hot and dry and everything was barren. Maybe I'll go out and play soccer or go for a long run, I thought. I sat up and blinked the sleep still sticky in my eyes. I pulled away the covers and headed towards my bathroom. Since summer started I've been so bored that my bathroom wasn't dirty for more than a day. I stared at the mirror at a bedraggled reflection. My hair stuck up at odd ends in my pony and my eyes were red from the interrupted sleep. I washed my face with cool water and soap, brushed my teeth and headed towards the kitchen, about five steps away.

I lived in a double-wide with my dad. It was always lonely in my house. I walked to the cupboard and fridge to look for food but all I found were cans and bottles of alcohol. I looked over at the lump on our dilapidated couch. My dad passed out from drinking, again. He worked shifts and this week it was nights. When he came home, he drank. When he worked days it was the same pattern, except he came to my room in a drunken rage . . .

I shuddered. I preferred him doing night shifts—that way I was left alone.

There was no food so I grabbed money from our stash and decided to head to the store to get some. I changed into a t-shirt and soccer shorts and slipped on my run-down athletic shoes. I needed new ones if I ever was going to do cross country in the fall.

I slipped out the door careful not to wake my dad and grabbed my bike. The ride to the store only took about ten minutes and the shopping about fifteen. I was back at home my dad still snoozing on the couch. I heated up some whole-grain waffles and put blueberries on top—my favorite. I ate in my room staring this time at my pink walls. I chewed slowly. My mother painted the walls pink because she knew, fifteen years ago, that she was pregnant with a girl. My dad helped back then when he had a happy, sane attitude. My mother died when I was nine, after my younger brother died. I was a mistake, my brother wasn't, so my mother went crazy and became depressed. She took her life when I was nine.

Then dad began drinking heavily. Life has just been dandy since then, if you're a schizophrenic. He has not been the same since then. He used to be gentle and his eyes sparkled, but now they were empty abysses and he was abusive to me especially.

Outside my window I saw the mail car come. I went out to the mailbox and as usual there were bills to be paid. At the bottom of the pile, however, there was an elaborate envelope with curly handwriting addressed to Hugh and Emma Swan, from . . . Bella! My favorite (and only) cousin I hadn't seen for about five years now. She had to be about eighteen. But why would she be sending me a letter and one so beautiful?

I walked back towards the house and set the other letters on the counter, taking Bella's letter with me to my room. I sat on my bed and turned the letter over to open it. Inside were various cards for a wedding. Bella was getting married. There was a separate letter written in Bella's familiar untidy scrawl. I opened it and it read:

Dear Emma,

How are you? It has been a while hasn't it? Well as you know from this letter, I am getting married. It has all been really hectic and exciting but there is one thing incomplete about it all—you and Uncle Hugh. It has been alright with Charlie and the Cullen's that you fly up here to Forks, Washington to be apart of my wedding.

Just respond as soon as this comes. Except I have already included your tickets (for Uncle Hugh too) to come to Washington.

Can't wait to see you!

Love your cousin,

Bella

Wow, me be apart of Bella's wedding. I flipped through the contents of the letter and found the number. I grabbed the phone from my bedside table and dialed the long number sequence. It rang twice and Bella's familiar voice sounded.

"Hello?"

"Bella? It's me, Emma." I waited.

"Emma! I've been waiting for you to call." There was a pause. "So are you coming?" I hesitated.

"Um," what could I say? Hugh definitely won't let me go alone but I didn't want to go with him.

"Yes," I said without thinking. Why'd I do that?

"Great. I'll see you both, but I got to go. I've got more wedding plans with Alice. I can't wait to see you when you get here! I love you Emma."

"Bye Bells." And then she hung up. I listened to the dial tone and sat there stunned. I can't believe I said I was coming. I got up and began to pack.

The plane ticket was for anytime and I was going to leave right away, I knew for sure. But I had to let my dad know I was leaving. I walked out into the living room. It was already one. Had the day really gone by so fast?

Dad was already up at the couch a beer in his hand. No doubt he had a hangover so why not rid of it with another beer?

"Dad?" I said quietly. He looked up at me with puffy red eyes that were sunk deep in their sockets. He had a restless night. He only stared at me, as if he didn't recognize me. He was still drunk from last night.

"Bella is getting married," I tried to sound happy but my voice squeaked. Why was I so scared to talk? He drew the beer up to his mouth and took a long gulp. I waited.

"So?" his voice was hoarse. It no longer had the beautiful deep ring to it.

"Well, she invited us to Forks, where Charlie lives to see the wedding. She sent us tickets to go."

"No," he stated. My shoulders dropped. I knew he would say that, but I was still going to go no matter what. I'll just sneak out tonight.

I walked away. I could ride my bike with my bag to the nearest airport. It was only in the next city ten miles away. I put my raggedy shoes in the bag and shoved it out the window. It landed with a thud on the dirt ground. I turned around and jumped, surprised to see my father in my doorway.

"Dad . . ." He came towards me clumsily and I tried to swerve around him. He was still fast even if he was still drunk and he caught me by my arm. He twisted it and I felt my skin scream from the tight grip. I pulled away but not before he could slap me hard making me spin and hit my bed. I landed on the bed on my side. The way was open and I scrambled to get up. He caught me again by my arm and pulled me up hard. Our faces were only inches apart; his sunken face looking more like an old man's, his eyes like a basset hound. His breath stunk with alcohol.

"Let me go," I said through gritted teeth. Suddenly he shoved me hard on my bed and threw a punch at my left clavicle. I felt bone on bone and the pain shot through my whole chest, knocking the breath out of me. I struggled to take in fresh oxygen and caught him out of the corner of my eye trying to swing another punch, this one wild. I rolled off my bed and ran out my door. I heard a loud crash and a groan. Thank goodness my dresser was made of solid oak.

Barefoot and bruised I grabbed my bike and ran for my bag. I strapped it around my shoulders and kicked off on my bike on my way to freedom.

A/N: How is it so far? Leave me a review please! This story I know is similar to others but I wanted a twist as well but you'll have to find that out later as the story goes on.