Disclaimer: I do not own The Twilight Saga or any of its affiliates.

Prologue:

Life was never easy for me. I seemed to always attract attention, and it was not for the good reasons. I either fell or tripped; neither of them was ideal. I did not know why I was so clumsy. I always seemed to trip and fall in life, literally stumbling through it. I never fit in, and I rarely minded. My parents were always worried about me, trying to figure out what was wrong. I just shrugged it off.

When my life changed one eventful day, I considered eliminating myself from the earth. I figured that no one would miss me; nobody seemed to care about me. My light would just flick off the radar, and nobody would even notice. It seemed like a generally good plan. But there was one huge problem:

I could not kill myself.

I tried everything that I could imagine, but it was no use; I could not take my life. The new life that was given to me was not something that I wanted at all. I could not bare it any longer, but I could not get rid of myself. It agitated me to no end.

And so it began, the endless redemption in a new world. That's when I met them. I did not know that there were other people that shared the same life that I came into. I seemed to gravitate towards them even though I thought them to be at threat.

I was especially drawn towards one of them. He was the special one that came into my life. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. As dim as it may have been though, it was still there.

Chapter 1:

My eyes were sealed shut; I did not have the heart to open them. Today was the day that I was dreading for the whole week. It was going to kill me to even get up and attempt to put a smile on my face. I wanted to frown and show my disgust, but my mother would probably end up crying. She did not want this just as much as me.

I flicked my covers off, groaning in the process. The sun was shining through my thin drapes. I stared at it for a while; it was probably the last time I would ever see it. I stood up and stretched, reaching for my ceiling. I yawned, not sure if I was tired from lack of sleep or if I was tired of dreading this day. It has been so long since I found out, and I still seemed to wish it was all just a dream.

My mother, Renée, had to move to Florida. She recently remarried, and her husband, Phil, had to go there for baseball. I was not intrigued at all about baseball, but my mother was psyched. Phil was already there in Florida getting the house together. They had bought a house already; that was just one more thing that really ticked me off. My mother was getting on a plane today, heading for Florida to be with Phil. Except there was one thing:

I was not going.

As much as I loved my mother and her new young husband, I could not handle moving to Florida. Phil's minor league would be traveling everywhere in the state. I did not want a gypsy lifestyle. I just wanted to be a sixteen year old and find myself. I wanted to grow up around friends that I knew I could trust. I did not want to make new friends everyday.

I did not know if my choice was the right one, but it seemed like I had no other option. My father, Charlie, had never really been in my life except for birthdays and well-known holidays. I never called him, and he never called me. We had a strained relationship, but I had hopes of mending it. I was more like Charlie than I wanted to admit, and there was bound to be some father-daughter chemistry between us somewhere.

I sulked out of my room. I was not ready for today as much as my mother believed I was. Even though I had my bags packed and all my things together, I was not ready to part with the weather and my friends. I went downstairs, still in my pajamas. I was absolutely no rush. I walked into the living to see my mother; she was sitting on the couch with her phone plastered against her ear. She was rambling on about something. Guess I was not going to talk to her.

I slumped into the kitchen, needing something to eat. I pulled out a bowl, bigger than the ones I usually used. I dumped some of my favorite cereal in and poured in a heap of milk. Everything floated to the surface, and the cereal started to pop. I grinned, still in love with that noise. I grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and dug in. The cereal crunched in my mouth, and I felt strangely at home. This felt real to me, and I did not want to leave it.

My mother came in the kitchen with a smile on her face. Her eyes fell when she saw my large bowl. "What? I don't feed you enough? Jeez, Bella, if you eat anymore, you can say good-bye to your wonderful figure."

I shrugged it off. "I figured it didn't matter because I was throwing my life away anyway." Once I said it, I noticed how harsh it was. My mother's face fell, and I instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry. I'm just everywhere today. I'm not taking this moving thing too easily."

My mother walked over to me, her face sad. She put her arms around me. "Bella, you need to understand that I want you to come with me and Phil. I have always wanted that. It is you that doesn't want to come along." She whispered, "But you can still change you mind."

I shook my head. "No. I'm not changing my mind. I have thought all of this over. I don't want to travel across Florida. I want to sit down and relax at night or spend my weekends watching television or hanging out with friends. Don't try to make me change my mind; it's a lost cause."

Renée pulled away from me. She slouched on the counter, staring at me. "Well, at least I can say that I gave it my best." She smiled at me. "You have everything together for Forks, right?"

I nodded, chewing thoughtfully on my cereal. I swallowed and started speaking. "I have a bag upstairs with all the clothes that I figured were pointless to pack. You can take them with you, so I will have a wardrobe when I come to Florida to see you." Forks was cold and rainy; I would never see some of my clothes again.

"Okay, baby. That will work." She brushed her hand against my cheek. "You can still go with us. Remember that." She pushed off the counter and walked into the living room.

I shook my head at her question. Then, I stuck my tongue out at her like a five year old. Her back was turned, so she did not see me. But it still made me feel good.

I slurped up the rest of my cereal, no longer savoring the taste; it was moist and soggy, not delicious anymore. I threw the bowl in the dish washer. Renée still needed to wash the dishes; I will let her have that job. I turned out of the kitchen, not looking at my mother. I jogged up the stairs and headed straight to my room. I fell on my bed and cried a little bit. I was not made of stone.

After fifteen minutes of good stress therapy, I wiped off my eyes and headed towards my closet. I instinctively opened the door, looking for something to wear. My closet was bare, empty, and lifeless. Another tear fell, and I had only myself to blame. I quickly closed it, massively disappointed. I had the rest of my clothes in a little suitcase on the floor. I opened it up and pulled out the first two things on top. I slipped on my comfortable skinny jeans and a dark purple tee shirt. I prayed that it was a little warm in Forks today.

I closed up everything and took it downstairs. I dropped the bag of my warm clothes on the floor at the bottom of the steps. I carried the rest of my stuff to the front door, huffing along the way. My mother came in from the kitchen with my ticket in hand. Her eyes were red; she was crying again. I put my suitcase on the hardwood floor and grabbed the flight ticket from her.

"I don't like that your flight is before mine." Her voice cracked; yep, she had been crying. "I won't be able to actually say one last good-bye to you. I have to come back here and finish packing, and you won't be here." A tear rolled down her cheek.

I quickly wiped it away; she should not be crying. "It will all be okay, Mum. You are going to Florida with your husband; you shouldn't be happier. I'll be fine up in Forks. Yes, I'll miss Phoenix, but I'll survive." I hope.

My mother wrapped me in a hug. I made her run around and get herself together; I did not have a car yet, so I needed someone to drive me to the airport. When we got there, my mother insisted on carrying all of my luggage, which consisted of one suitcase, a carry-on bag, and a purse. I let her carry the bag. I dropped my suitcase off at the luggage area and headed towards my flight. After many hugs and kisses from my mother, she finally let me get on the plane with seconds to spare.

I took my seat, not ready to endure the trip. I was completely okay with the plane ride; that was the fun and easy part. I was worried about the ride from Port Angeles to Forks; that was going to be torture. Charlie never spoke unless he needed to. I did not really have anything to talk to him about. He was, after all, my father. It is not like I can just talk about boys or girl troubles or anything that falls under that category.

When my flight landed, there sat Charlie. He was in the airport parking lot in his police cruiser. I shuttered. He was the chief of police, and I had to drive around in that with him. He could have at least had a side car that he drove around when he was off duty. I pulled up the bar on my suitcase, swung my bag over my shoulder, and held my purse in my hand. I took in a deep breath and headed towards the cruiser.

When Charlie saw me, he got out of his cruiser. He had a small smile on his face, nothing too emotional. I stumbled over to him, almost tripping on my feet a few times. Charlie quickly took my things, except my purse, and shoved them in the trunk of the cruiser. At least he was helpful. Then, he came back over to me and pulled me into a hug. It was one of those awkward hugs that you give someone when you have not seen them in a long time. I never thought I would feel awkward with my own father.

"It's great to see you again, Bells." Unlike the rest of the world, Charlie insisted on calling me Bells. He thought it fit me, and hey, he was saving at syllable. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." I was possibly telling a bit of a lie. I pulled out of the hug when he did. It became a bit more awkward, if that was even possible. "So are we ready to go?" I knew very well that I was not.

"Most definitely." He opened his door and hopped in the car. I huffed, going to my side. I slowly opened the door, and it responded with a loud squeak. Charlie laughed. "Sorry, but that door makes a lot of noise sometimes."

I slid in. I mumbled under my breath. "Wonderful."

The ride was long and quiet. Charlie refused to talk anymore; I got everything out of him at the airport. When I saw the sign for Forks in the distance, a shiver ran through me. I was not at all ready for this. When we drove past it, it was like the point of no return for me. I was here now, and there was no turning back. Oh, and how I wanted to turn back. Little drops of rain started falling. Charlie put on his windshield wipers and stared out the window, fixated on the road. Everything we passed was green. I moaned; it was like a wetland. I was not in Kansas anymore.

We pulled up to the house, and I knew I was doomed. Once I set foot in there, I could not leave. I grumbled something incoherent so that Charlie could not here; I was officially in hell. It was a wet and green hell, but a hell nonetheless. Charlie carried my bag and suitcase into the house. I traveled upstairs with him, headed to my room. When we entered, I was instantly taken back to my past. The last time I had been here was when I was thirteen; a few things had changed but not much.

Charlie left quickly, allowing me to unpack and unwind. I took it as a sign; I was going to be alone for most of my life up here. Renée would have been all over me, talking to me and asking how I have been. My life was going to be extremely boring with Charlie. I fell on my blue bed and let a few tears fall. I was hurting, yes, but I was strong. I was going to make it through this hell in Forks.