Chapter One.

Hey guys! I have been suffering from severe writer's block. I have a story that I am writing that is not a fan fic, plus my fan fic and I am losing it. I can't think anymore. So, I am going to take a break and try something really light. Cinderella is my favorite story, so I thought why not take that and put my own spin on it. It probably won't be very long and hopefully before long I can get back to Stockholm Syndrome for you guys. I hope you enjoy this little fun shortie. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, or plots. Each belong to their respective owners. I am just playing and hopefully bringing new life to already wonderful characters!

And on with it...

BPOV

I could almost hear the slap before her hand cracked against my cheek. The sting was something I came to know well in the last 10 years.

"Isabella!" My wretched stepmother yelled. "I told you to never come out of your room when we have company."

"I'm sorry Mother." I choked out. I was made to call her that to 'show respect' for all she has 'done' for me.

"You ungrateful little shit." She screamed. "I put a roof over your head and clothes on your back and you can't seem to follow the simplest of rules."

I fought to roll my eyes. "It won't happen again." I replied dutifully.

"You bet your ass it won't. Hand over your keys."

My eyes went wide when I realized what she meant. My father left me his beloved 1955 Chevy truck that he restored himself. It was all I had left of him and that truck was my only source of freedom from the hellhole that I lived in. "B-but.. you can't.."

"Don't argue with me Isabella," she cut me off. "It will only get worse if you do." She had a malevolent glint in her eye almost hoping I would defy her to give her incentive to slap me again or worse.

I grudgingly handed over the keys before going to the kitchen to find ice for my burning cheek and to start dinner.

My dad Charlie married Renee when I was six and he died when I was seven. I was left with Renee to take care of me, and her two god-awful twin daughters, Alice and Rosalie.

I remember being so excited when my dad told me I was getting two sisters that were my age. I even willingly gave up my bedroom for the slightly smaller one across the hall. There was two of them and only one of me. When they moved in my dad was so happy that it made me happy even when Rosalie would pinch me and Alice would pull my hair. Even Renee seemed happy enough back than to treat me somewhat like a daughter.

Things didn't get real bad until after my dad died.

"Whatcha doing?" Alice plopped down on a stool on the other side of the island.

I raised an eyebrow at her stupidity as I pointed to the chicken frying in the pan in front of me. "I'm cooking Alice."

She huffed. "I'm just trying to make conversation Bella. You don't have to be mean." She shook her finger at me as if I was a toddler being reprimanded.

"What do you want Alice?" I asked point blank.

Alice was the only one in this household that has ever been nice to me, but it was usually when she wanted something.

"Bella!" She whined. "I just came to talk." I cut her off with a look. "Fine. I need you to pick up an order for me from Bloomingdales before they close tonight."

I was the go to girl around here for running errands, cleaning, laundry, cooking, etc. It was a shit deal. Well, at least Alice asked and didn't demand. I could say no to her. And I was about to tell her to shove her pick-up where the sun don't shine when a light bulb went off above my head. I looked up to see if one was actually there. It wasn't.

"Oh Alice!" I exaggerated. "I would love to do that for you!" I waited until her eyes fully lit up. "But I can't. Your mom took my car keys away." I ended it with a dramatic pout.

Her face fell and then immediately relit. "I'll change that than you can go after you're done cooking!"

I watched her swing off the stool yelling, "Mom!" at the top of her lungs. That was too easy. I was going to get my keys back.

I was just putting the last platter on the table when Alice came bouncing back in. "Here you go."

I grabbed the keys and held them to my chest. "Thank you."

She shrugged. "Mom said to pick up the dry cleaning as well."

I groaned. "Fine. I'll be back." I took the two slips from her hand, one for her pick up and the other for the god-forsaken dry cleaning, and headed towards the door.

"Oh, Isabella." My stepmother stopped me as I reached for the doorknob leading to freedom. "You have one hour."

"Yes mother." She cleared her throat. "Thank you." I spit out before opening the door.

In my rush to leave, I smacked right into hard muscle and fell back hard on my ass. "Umph."

"Whoa. Where's the fire Bellaroo." Emmett said with a laugh before reaching his hand out to help me up.

"Ewe Emmett don't talk to the trash." Rosalie said as she brushed by us with her nose in the air.

I watched as Renee's face lit up because of her favorite daughter and I turned to grimace at Emmett.

He gave me an apologetic look before following Rose into the house.

"Dinner's on the table." I yelled not holding my breath for any appreciation.

Emmett turned around and gave me two thumbs up. I gave him a small smile in turn, than I saw Renee looking at me and pointing to her watch.

I ran to my truck thinking about how on earth someone as sweet as Emmett McCarty could end up with a stuck up witch like Rosalie. He deserves better.

Rose has been the worst since they all moved in. Even at six, she was a spoiled little brat who kicked and bit when she didn't get her way. After my dad died Rose kicked me out of my room, gave Alice that one, and I was stuck with the small guest bedroom down stairs, away from everyone. I have felt like an outsider ever since and I have been treated like an intruder to boot.

I've never been anything more than a glorified maid in my stepmother's eyes. Sometimes I think that is the only reason Renee kept me around. Well that and her precious reputation.

Yes, poor Renee lost her husband and still kept his brat of a child. How selfless. It made me want to puke.

.

I had 10 minutes to get home after running their errands and I was almost there when my beloved, yet old truck started to whine.

"No. No no no no." I rubbed her dashboard for luck. "You have a mile to go. Just make it home. Please."

As if there were evil, naughty, leprechauns throwing the wrong kind of gold luck my way she sputtered at me and died. My head fell and my forehead thunked on the steering wheel. I said a whispered plea to whoever was listening as I tried to restart her.

Tut. Tut. Tut. Curplunk.

I squeezed my eyes shut to keep my tears of frustration at bay.

"Stupid fucking soda!" Renee always makes me stay in my room whenever her pretentious friends are over, because I am an "embarrassment". I just wanted a drink so I snuck into the kitchen and ran right into Jane, her gold digger friend who went and told on me. If I didn't leave the room, I wouldn't of had my keys taken away, and I would have told Alice no. I wouldn't be sitting here in the middle of the road with 5 minutes to spare. Renee allows for no excuses short of death, and that would be only my death.

I had two options here: If I valued the little freedom I was afforded I should leave the truck and run home. If I valued my truck, I needed to fix it and take the heat when I eventually got home.

I knew my choice. This truck meant the world to me. I huffed and puffed the whole way to the front of the truck. I opened the hood and smoke over coated me. "Son of a .." I waved my arms clearing the smoke away.

The smoke cleared and I blinked twice. The most beautiful man was leaning on my sentimental heap of junk.

"Need some help sweetheart?" His words rolled off his tongue like the sweetest brand of musical air.

I blinked.

"I can take a look of you want.." His perfect finger pointed to the engine. He was Adonis incarnate. He was easily 6 feet tall with a perfect build. Not to lean, with just enough muscle to show through his v-neck shirt. His face had strong angular features with kissable pink lips. His eyes were deep green and his hair was an unruly bronze. He was perfection, plain and simple, and he was standing not 10 feet away from plain ol' me. I almost took a step back, almost.

I blinked again.

He tilted his head to the side looking confused with a half smirk gracing those beautiful lips. "Are you okay?"

I realized I haven't said anything yet. I racked my brain for something to say. "I just wanted a damn soda." Huh. Apparently, my mind was still on that.

He chuckled. "Okay well let me see if I can fix your truck than we can go get you that soda."

I shook my head to clear it. "No. I meant... never mind." I waved the beautiful boy off. "I can fix the truck myself thanks."

He smirked. "Well this I have got to see."

I narrowed my eyes at him and looked at the engine.

The smoke was starting to clear away, but it didn't leave much. I needed tools. I messed with the battery terminals, pulled on the air filter, and also readjusted the belt along the alternator. Usually a few tugs on something will get it started again until I can get to the garage to really fix her up. I backed up, slammed the hood, and hoped for the best.

"Well done. I can't say that I have ever seen a chick work on a car." I rolled my eyes at him. I didn't do much. "I'm Edward Cullen, by the way." He said as he put his hand out for me to shake.

"And I'm late." I said ignoring his hand and heading towards the driver door. "Bye."

"What about that soda?" He asked with a grin.

I shook my head in exasperation and got behind the wheel. He didn't need me and my baggage.

I waved and added a shrug for good measure as I drove away from his shocked, glorious face.

Well color me fucking shocked! I snuck in and nobody was the wiser until Alice found me 10 minutes later! I was in my room and she let out a breath.

"Thank God you are back!" She walked over and picked up both bags off the end of my bed. "I was so afraid for you." Then she left.

I let my shoulders fall. There is always that little bit of hope that eats away at me. I mean would it be so hard to say thank you. "You're welcome." I whisper to still silence.

I was giddy besides the lack of appreciation. I was always in trouble for being late, really for doing anything wrong or right. Renee usually waited by the door for me. When I walked in the door and no one was there, I rushed to my room and laid there. I waited and waited for her to come to me. I wasn't going to her to get my ass kicked. Then Alice came in and I haven't heard a peep from Renee all night.

I was just beginning to think she had no idea that I was late at all when I walked into the kitchen to grab a drink of water before bed.

"Isabella." Her voice hissed from somewhere behind me. I jumped, fell forward letting go of the fridge door, which somehow came and hit me in the back. Hard.

"Son of a." I stopped. That really fucking hurt.

"Do you think I am an idiot?" I figured it was a rhetorical question so I didn't answer, just stared at her evil eyes.

She slams her hand down on the counter in front of her. "I asked you a question!"

"No. I do not think you are an idiot." I like to lie a lot.

She chuckles. Evilly. "You were late."

"My car broke down." I knew it wouldn't work, but I had to say something.

I watch her just stare at me, her lips pursed, in concentration. She is no doubt coming up with a devious punishment for me. There has always been punishment since my father died. Always for the stupidest reasons. I always listened. I always followed directions. Alice and Rose never did. I got in trouble for them.

Watching those cold dead eyes contemplate me, all I can feel is hatred. She is evil. One day she will get what she is due to receive, and I won't lift a finger to help her.

"No library for a month." She smiles. She knows my weaknesses though I try not to show them.

I glare and shrug. I won't let her see how much this will hurt me. That library is my sanctuary.

"Are we done?" I ask trying to control my temper.

"Tsk. Tsk. No attitude Isabella." Her smile widens. "Now thank me."

This part is the worst. Thanking her for a punishment. I think about my college fund. The fund my dad left just for me. The fund she controls until I am 18 even though it is in my name. I force a fake smile. "Thanks mother." I turn and run for my room. As soon as the door closes, I let my tears run. I have never once, since I was nine, for 7 years cried in front of any of them. I will never let them see.

I jump into bed not bothering with PJs. I strip to my underwear and through the clothes on the floor before cuddling up to my pillow. I cry myself to sleep for all the bad luck in the world that seems to rain down on me.

Author's note: What do you guys think? Good, Bad, or Ugly? Please let me know. I want lots of reviews to bring me up from my awful depression over this writer's block! Thank you!

P.S. I am not promising regular updates, sorry. Stick with me and alert it to make sure you always get it! Thanks!