Hello Guys. I know I just started a new story recently, but I kinda had an idea that is that story, and isn't in the same time. I also read it when I wasn't massively sleep deprived and realized how incredibly typo ridden it is. Anyone who wants to Beta for this, let me know!

Just so you know, this story is not rainbows and sunshine, nor is it sparkly.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns everything. Deal. With. It.

Prologue

How does one define hope? Where does it come from, and how do people have it? If you lost it, how can you get it back?

I used to have hope, however, much like almost everything else I ever had, I lost it a long time ago. What was the point in hoping? It would only cause more pain. Hope is something only normal people can afford to have. Now, the only hope I have, is that I can leave quietly and unnoticed, even though I lack the courage to do it myself.

I learned a long time ago that to hope, means to leave yourself even more vulnerable. The best thing one can do, is to remain invisible, and hope it ends quickly.

My name is Bella Swan and, I live in Forks, Washington, a small uneventful sleepy town on the west coast that was almost constantly raining.

I live alone with who the good people of forks know as Chief Swan, the head of the police department here, my father. Everyone loved him, thought he was such a great man. Many people would even say, the best chief this town has ever seen. If only they knew.

Chapter 1: Home Sweet Home

BPOV

I looked around the kitchen frantically, trying to find the basil. I had to have dinner ready for five o'clock, when Charlie would be home. It was already four, and the Lasagna took about an hour to cook. However, he would be angry if it didn't taste right. I just hoped that we hadn't run out.

Finally after about ten minutes of searching, I sighed in relief as I found it, and put it in the sauce. By four-thirty, the lasagna was in the oven cooking, and I was rushing to clean up. I knew the lasagna would be late. It was his favorite, so maybe he would forgiving. Fat Chance.

I winced as I stepped on my fractured ankle harder than intended in my haste to grab the broom. I sucked in a breath, then sighed as the pain went back to being a dull throb, before continuing my cleaning. I was used to this. I was always broken. I was sure I would never be fully put together again.

As usual, at five o'clock on the dot, The doorknob turned, and I felt myself suck in a breath. I stood in the kitchen with my head bowed remorsefully, hoping he might know I didn't mean to be late.

I waited a few minutes, before I felt him roughly push my chin up. "Where's Dinner?" he asked me, his tone angry. I knew he would be angry.

"I-It's not done yet sir. It will be done in a half an hour. I am sorry I am late." I mumbled, my hands already starting to shake in anticipation.

"Late? What, you want me to fucking starve?" He asks, his temper rising, before I quickly shake my head.

"No, of course not! The basil was lost and—"

I didn't get to finish before I felt him grab me, and throw me into the wall. The moment I hit it, the air rushed out of my lungs. "Fucking excuses, like always? You know the rules! Dinner is supposed to be on the table, when I get home, you useless little bitch!" he yelled before I felt his hard booted foot connect with my ribs. I screamed out in pain, whimpering. He chuckled, liking my scream, as he kicked again, harder this time. I felt the already bruised ribs that had only recently healed from the last time he broke them, crack. This time, I didn't scream though. I didn't want to egg him on further.

"Say it, say 'I am a useless bitch'!" he said, before landing another kick to my ribs. I stayed silent though. The next moment, I felt him lift me by my neck, and slam me into the wall again, my head hitting hard. I nearly lost consciousness there, but he wouldn't have it. Instead he threw me back on the floor roughly, before landing a few more kicks.

After awhile longer, he finally stopped, then started towards the living room. "Get me my dinner now. The timer went off."

I had to wait a few moments before I could get up, everything spinning from my more than likely concussion. I made my way over to the stove slowly, and took out the now slightly burned lasagna, before putting it on a plate and bringing it to him. He Tsk'ed but said nothing else as he ate.

After he ate, I spent the rest of the night cleaning, and doing my homework, before finally going to bed an hour before I had to wake up to another day in hell.

My alarm clock woke me from my normal nightmares, and I gingerly sat up, wincing. Everything hurt, and my head was pounding. I slowly made my way out of bed, cringing with every step as I made my way to the bathroom to shower.

Before getting into the shower, I assessed myself in the mirror for new injuries. The girl staring back at me had ugly brown eyes hollowed in dark circles from lack of sleep, sickly pale skin, and long lank brown hair. I could see where the ribs were broken, my whole torso an ugly purple color from bruising, with my bones jutting out from malnourishment. My ankle was badly swollen from a couple of nights ago when he almost completely broke it. By all rights, I shouldn't even be alive still, but I wasn't so lucky.

I turned away before carefully making my way into the shower, and letting the hot water soothe my aching body. After a short ten minutes, I stepped out, and got dressed in a loose pair of black jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and my black hoodie. Before I left the bathroom, I made sure no marks were visible. When I was sure, I slowly headed downstairs, and started making Charlie his breakfast.

As I made him his eggs and bacon, my stomach growled at me. Charlie hadn't allowed me to eat now in over a week, and I had no money to get food at lunch. All I had eaten in this week was a few bites off of one of his unfinished plates, since that one night, he had gone to bed right after eating, before I cleaned up.

Charlie came down, dressed in his uniform, and sat down silently as I put his plate in front of him. He immediately started eating, not even glancing at me. At least it seemed I was off the hook for this morning. It didn't seem like he was in the mood to for another session.

A couple minutes after he finished eating, he left for work, and I left for school.

I shivered the moment I made it outside. It was freezing, and as per usual, raining. School was only about an hour walk away, but it was enough that in my current state, I was exhausted and freezing by the time I made it there.

Students were already gathered in the hallways, talking animatedly with one another when I got inside. They paid no attention to me, which I preferred. I always did my best not to stand out, and generally succeeded. Not even the teachers seemed to notice me at all anymore. It was just easier this way.

By the time lunch came, I felt worse than normal, the room taking on a slight spin. I hadn't been able to focus all day, and my headache was worse. I didn't know if it was the head injury or hunger at this point, or even exhaustion. Either way, there was nothing I could do about it.

I sat down at my normal table at lunch, in the corner of the room, and curled up, drawing my knees to my chest as I took out my old copy of Wuthering Heights, and started reading. Reading was my only escape, the one thing I truly enjoyed to do anymore. It made me almost content.

After too short of a time, the bell rang, and I put my book back in my bag and slowly stood back up. A rush of vertigo almost sent me right back to my chair, but I grabbed the table, catching myself before I could fall. I took a deep breath, and slowly started to my next class, English.

As I made my way in, I noticed our teacher wasn't there, but thought nothing of it. He was probably just a couple minutes late. I made my way to the back of the room, and sat down in my chair, resting my head in my hands, willing the spinning to stop.

A few minutes later, the principle walked into the room, with very possibly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was tall, with a lean build, and pale skin. His hair was a mess of almost bronze on the top of his head, and he had the most beautiful emerald green eyes.

After I realized I had been shamelessly staring, I realized I wasn't alone. Already the girls were giggling and whispering.

The principle cleared his throat. "Hello class, I have some news for you. Mr. Adams had to leave for health reasons, and more than likely will not be back. However, we have a new teacher. His name is Mr. Cullen. I expect you all to be on your best behavior." The principle stated, before leaving the room, leaving Mr. Cullen alone.

He looked around the room, seeming to catalogue everyone, before smiling. "Hello. As Mr. Johnson just stated, I am Mr. Cullen, your new English Teacher. Being as Mr. Adams did not leave a lesson plan, I am going to need someone to fill me in on what we have already covered so far, and where we are." He smiled. He had a voice like a velvet lullaby.

A girl with pretty brown hair raised her hand. Mr. Cullen looked at her and nodded. "Yes, Ms…."

"Angela Weber." She filled in for him shyly. "We just finished Night from Elie Wiesle. We were about to start on Shakespeare." She says. "I have our syllabus if you need it." She added helpfully.

"Thank you very much Miss Weber. That would be very helpful. Thank you." He said before continuing on. I spent the rest of the class listening to his voice. For once, I actually enjoyed a class.

Please read and review! I have one more chapter to post right now. After this, I will post more based off reviews! I need the motivation! Please review!