This is my very first fanfic ever, so please R&R and tell me if it's any good. I'm really nervous. Feel free to give suggestions and correct me on anything, if necessary.

Chapter one: Guilt

My eyes shot open, and I woke up in cold sweat. This was the third time this week. The dreams were getting more and more vivid, with every second that I kept my eyes closed, masking my line of vision. This time, mom was in a dark corner of a room, alone and starving. Her only hope of survival was my generosity, the one slight chance that I might provide her with a source of warmth, food, or safe passage. Her shriveled body was up in the fetal position as her cold eyes gazed at mine. Damn. The guilt was really getting to me.

I tip-toed downstairs, trying not to wake dad, who I knew usually slept on the couch after a long day in the line of duty. I slowly opened the fridge door and cupped my hand around the ice cold juice jug.

"Surprised you're up," came a familiar, husky voice from the living room couch. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No, I could sleep. I slept fine. Like a baby," I lied.

"I'm not stupid. This whole thing with your mother isn't going to blow off soon. You've got to be at least a little upset about it, Bells. I'm your father and I'm sure you'll come to reason and talk to me about this at some point," he finished with a sigh. "At least we have something in common."

"What's that?"

"We're both here because we didn't get along with her."

Yeah, I guess you're right," I chuckled.

"Ah, Renee," he said, most likely remembering their days together.

"I like what you did with my room," I commented, nonchalantly changing the subject.

"Oh, really? I knew you liked reading. Ya know, I really thought you would come and visit more often, Bella."

Great now I was hurting both of my parents. How was I supposed to answer this? "I'm Sorry… dad." It had been a while since that word rolled off my tongue. He was right. I really hadn't spent enough time with him. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Guess that'll have to be good enough, sweetheart. Guess that'll have to be good enough."

After our negotiation, and an awkward bowl of cereal, I took a brief tour of the house and remembered how I used to spend my summers as a child. I inspected the diminutive bathroom near my room.

In the hallways leading up to it, Charlie kept some of my old things. Drawings. Pictures. School projects. Some were neatly tucked away in boxes and some were dangling on the wall. He never forgot about me. I could tell that my fallout with mom was bittersweet for him. On one hand his former wife, and his daughter, were both suffering. On the other hand, his little girl was coming back to spend quality time with him. Although Charlie wasn't one to show it, he was very sentimental.

I made my way to my room and prepared for the day ahead. I was going to be here for a while; considering mom would want to spend every waking minute with Phil. Charlie was right, this thing wasn't going to just blow over. And today was the start of my new life with him. And that meant school too. How bad could it be? Forks was Forks.