Hello readers this is my first story I hope you all like it, I also wanted to say that I do not own Twilight if I did Bellice would be canon XD but sadly I do not :C.
I won't tell you which person is this chapter POV but at the end I do hope you know or you have a guess, of course this is a Bellice so if it's not really your thing just please don't read, also all comments are welcome. n.n thank you for reading and enjoy (I hope)
I want to give the credit she deserve to my editor Midori that will be helping me out with this story as she does an splendid work with my not so splendid use of words hehehe.
Well on to the story!.
Chapter 1 Tomorrow?
How should I begin with my story? There is no good or bad way of telling any sort of
events, or is there? How could you know? How can you tell apart from good or bad? How
do you know what's real?
All these questions I've had, for as long as I can remember, from the day my mother gave me to the orphanage, come around the only thought that could form in my mind: why would you do that to your child? How could she abandon me? Was it because she wanted me to have a better future? Or was it because I would be a problem on her life? I suppose it was the second option, since the director seems to like to remind me all my failures, even the ones I don't have a saying in.
Oh haven't I told you? I'm "broken", or so the director says. I was born without the capacity of controlling my own legs, meaning I should remain on this stupid thing that gets me moving around the house, this chair. I actually wouldn't care as much, if the director wouldn't remind me that I was a mistake, and as such, I would never get adopted. I would never know the warmth of a mother's hug or a father´s advice. When the director said those kind of things it saddened me the most… it was not like I wanted to believe, him but after you have been in this place for as long as I have… well, I guess all the stuff he says starts making sense. Who would want a broken old toy when you can get a brand new, perfect one? I guess no one, since I'm 16 years old already and my best shot of getting out of here is becoming an adult.
I don't actually know what's his problem with me; as far as I know, I haven't done anything to him, but still, it wouldn't matter in the end, I guess… at least he still gives me food and shelter and from time to time he handles me some clothes, so I guess I should be grateful even if it's just enough for me to survive. Hey, don't give me that face! I am grateful! I'm breathing at this same moment, ain't I? Well, I guess I expected more from my life as… well, almost as everyone does.
But still, here I am, lying on my bed thinking about my actual life and dreaming about a life I will never have, when I should be sleeping, since I've only have…What? Around two hours of sleep before the first day of school. Ah, school…at least thinking of it brings a smile to my face, since I love it. It's a place I can be free, I can be myself without anyone telling me I'm wrong or that it doesn't matter what I say since "broken" things shouldn't matter.
On other topics I hope some, if not all my friends from last year are on my same classroom. Angela, Jessica, and I…even Mike! We've all got to know each other over the last school year, because a teacher paired me up with Angela. She then invited me to have lunch with them and her friends did like me, as much as I liked them! Ever since then, I looked out for every time I could get away from my "home", and went out with them. But I couldn't shake the bad feeling I got every time we went to someone's house. I saw the way their parents treated them. You could say I was jealous. As a matter of fact, my so called house was out of question every time we agreed to go out… because I haven't told them I was an orphan.
I guess now you question yourself why wouldn't I tell them or even my best friend Angela? I guess I don't have a real answer for that. I don't want their pity, I have my own already. I also like it when they tell me about their families, even when they have a fight. I like helping them even if I have no experience in the matter. It's like, I'm the friend that gives you advice in romantic maters even if I have never been in love, even if it kind of saddens me… since it's a remainder of what I don't have. Oh god, I am such a masochist!
I'm still thinking, even if time won't stop moving, maybe I should just close my eyes and dream of her again… or at least I think it's a she. All I can see through the blur is long light brown hair, and hazel eyes. I don't know why I dreamt of her five months ago, but ever since, those eyes have been haunting my thoughts as well as the meaning of the bell that appeared after she did. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better…