Kimberly

by only.if.my.lungs.let.me.breath

Another story about a character named Kimberly. There is no Bella, but the Cullens are the same. Lemons later on

Chapter 1

I ran down the crumbling stairs and across the overgrown lawn of my father's run down house. I whistled loudly, and my dogs came running around the torn down fence that led to the backyard. I held open the passenger side door of my 1977 Ford truck. My Great Pyrenees, Brady, and my Siberian Husky, Syria both jumped in and sat, waiting. I threw the bag holding my remaining few possessions in the bed, and opened the drivers side door. As I was climbing in, my father slammed open the screen door in one of his drunken stupors. "Kimberly, I'm sorry, please, don't go." He looked so pitiful that for the smallest fraction of a second I almost turned around. But I wasn't going back this time. It was far too late for that. I turned the key in the ignition and my truck rumbled to life. "Fine, you stupid little whore, I don't need you. You were a mistake from the beginning." He yelled as he turned back and stomped into the house. I rolled down the window although the weather had turned wintry, the cold air helped clear my mind, and the dogs certainly enjoyed it. I pulled my plaid hoodie closer around me. My truck rumbled down the street as I made me way out of Seattle. I was headed to my mother's house in Forks.

Four hours and two rest stops later, I made it to Forks. My poor truck was wheezing from the trip, and my animals were certainly unhappy. I pulled through the town and made it to my mother's house about ten minutes later. I pulled into the drive and stared at her house for a moment. My mother had done rather well for herself. She was an RN at the local hospital, and being alone, she had enough money that she could retire now and be quite comfortable. Too bad she wasn't the type. My mom would probably work until the day she was unable. She loved her job. She liked life in a small town, she liked the people, she liked the weather, she liked it all. And I was so glad that she was happy, though I knew she would be happier now that I was home. Her house was one of the larger ones in all of Forks. It was white, and two stories. Three bedrooms, and each with it's own bathroom. That was the best part. My own bathroom. I knew where she kept the spare key, but I could reach above the door. I climbed onto the window frame, balanced, reached over and grabbed the key from the door. I hopped down, and walked back over toward the door. I put the key in, turned it, and quickly ran into the house. I called after Syria and Brady. They followed me quickly into the warm house. I stood in the kitchen and realized that nothing about this place had changed. It was still painted a pale yellow, the cabinets were still the same dark cherry color, the floors still tan porcelain tile, the appliances the same stainless steel, and as I looked around, I realized that this was were I felt at home. I smiled as I reached into the same cookie jar I'd been reaching into for years, and pulled out a homemade chocolate chip cookie. There were cupcakes in a glass holder on the counter, and take-out Mexican on the counter. My mother must have been here recently because there was a note taped to the bag. She even remembered my favorite food from my favorite Mexican restaurant in Port Angeles. I smiled as I read the note and finished my cookie.

'Kimberly,

I hope the ride was ok, and I'm glad your home sweetheart. There's food in the bag, I didn't have time to cook, but I did bake. Cookies in the jar, cupcakes on the counter, and there's a chocolate pie in the fridge I didn't know what you would be in the mood for.

I'm afraid your room is a little bare, but I'm leaving the hospital early so we can go shopping and get you ready for school on Monday. I'm sure you need clothes, and supplies, plus stuff for your room.

Well, I'm rambling, so I'll let you eat. I love you, and it really is good to have you home.

-----Mom'

I smiled as I put the letter on the counter, and opened the bag. It smelled so good. My mouth started to water a little as I grabbed a fork out of the drawer and walked into the living room. I plopped down onto the oversized black leather couch. There was a smaller sofa under the window, an oversized recliner with an ottoman on the other side, and a big black coffee table in front of me. I grabbed the remote off of the end table closest to me, and I turned on the 55' television that hung on the wall right above the fireplace. I opened the styrofoam box that contained my food and I began eating while I watched Tom and Jerry.

I finished eating quickly, and got up to throw away the container. I walked around the house a little, and looked around. There were pictures of the two of us all of the house. I opened one of the many picture albums she kept on a shelf in the dining room. I sat down at the large mahogany table, and flipped through the pages. They were filled with pictures of mostly me. I came across one that made me stop for a moment. It was a picture of myself and my mom. I was about four, and my mom was holding me. I was dressed in a black leotard with a pink tutu, black tights, and black ballet slippers. It was right after one of my recitals, and I had one my very first ribbon. It was pinned to my leotard, and I looked so proud. My mother was smiling like I'd one the Pulitzer and everything seemed alright. I felt something warm touch my cheek and I realized that I was crying. I wiped the tear quickly with the back of my hand and I slid the picture out of the plastic holder quickly. I took one more glance at it before I placed it in my pocket. I grabbed my bag off the kitchen floor and slowly began walking up the stairs. I turned left, and walked immediately into my room. My mom wasn't lying. My room was completely bare. There was no furniture. The floor was solid black tile, and the walls were white. Looking straight across, I saw a large sliding glass door. I walked over to it, and slid it open. It opened onto a large wooden balcony. There was nothing out here, but I was sure I could fix that. There was a window on the left side of the door but there was absolutely no window coverings or anything. I turned and there was a closed door on each side of the door I had come in through. One the left hand side I knew was the closet. It was an extremely ample sized walk in closet. The tile was the same as the bedroom, and the walls were still white. There was a wall full of drawers, a wall that shared shoe holders, and a large floor to ceiling length mirror and a wall covered in racks for clothes. I gasped a little as I realized my mother had had some remodeling done.

On the right hand side was the bathroom. Same tile. Same wall color. A small sink with an oval mirror hanging above it was on the left. The toilet and a shower on the right. Straight through under another window was one of the biggest bathtubs I'd ever seen. I smiled as I walked toward it. It had bubble jets. I giggled to myself. I felt like I had walked into some kind of fantasy world. This was such a big step up from a two bedroom, one bath run-down trailer on the outskirts of Seattle. Where the roof leaked, the water only worked half the time, and the electricity was even more unstable. I frowned at the thoughts of that place. I was never going back. He had seen to that.

I ran down the stairs as I heard my mother walk in through the front door. I smiled at her, and at first she smiled, and then she saw. She grimaced a little and then she made a face like she was going to cry. "Don't you dare." I said to her as I walked toward her. "It's just surface, it goes away. And I do believe you promised me a shopping trip." I hugged her, and she laughed. "Alright, let's go." She stroked the black and purple bruises that covered the entire left side of my body. I followed my mom to her SUV, and we made our way to the mall in Port Angeles. We walked around for hours, buying everything from clothes to stuff for my room to stuff for school. After we were finished, we were both famished. My mom and I drove around a little, and we came across a small Italian restaurant. We walked in, and were immediately greeted by a pretty young waitress. "May I help you?" She asked as she looked at my mother in an attempt, I think, to conceal her stares at my face. I smirked a little. "Yes, we need a table for two." My mother replied in a slightly icy tone. "Right this way." We followed the waitress to the table, and we sat across from each other. We ordered almost immediately after we were seated. My mother and I had always been close. We didn't speak, not because there was nothing to say, but simply because we were comfortable in our silence. We ate in almost complete silence, enjoying each other's company. The meal lasted longer than anticipated and we were both yawning as we walked to the car. I napped on the trip back to Forks.

My mother and I unpacked the car as quickly as possible. I was in a hurry to finish my room and everything. I had school in two days, and a lot to do. She helped me move everything into my room and then she looked at me. "Do you need help?" She asked as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "No, I'll be fine." I smiled at her, and dismissed her to go to bed. "Goodnight, Kimberly, I'm so glad you're home." She kissed my forehead. "I love you." "Love you too, mom." I said as she began walking the short hallway to her bedroom.

I walked into my room and swiftly changed clothes. I changed into an old pair of torn up jeans, and a black long sleeved shirt. I pulled all of the bags, except for one, and things into the hallway so that my room was completely bare. I reached into the bag I had spared, and pulled out the iPod stereo/alarm clock my mother had just bought me. I hooked my iPod Touch up to it, and plugged it into the wall. After setting it up, I turned my music on low. Lie To Me by 12 Stones came on. I pulled my sleeves up, and dragged two gallons of paint into the room.

I started by painting. I painted the wall that holds my north and south walls black, and my east and west walls a light pink. I then painted my bathroom light pink with the exception of the wall that the bathtub was against. I painted it black. Then I moved onto the closet. I painted the whole thing black. I looked around at what I'd done and smile. It looked really good.

Then it was time to move onto the furniture. I had to put everything together. I sighed at the thought. First I put my bed together. It was a large king-sized bed, with a simple black boxed frame. No headboard. Just enough of something to keep it from touching the ground. I pushed it into the corner of the south and west walls facing the north wall. I then put together my end table. It was simple, black and square. I placed it beside my bed. I then put together my desk and a large bookshelf. Both were black, simple and square. I put them both against the east wall. I put my new black DVD holder in the corner of the north and west walls. I then did some heavy lifting. I smiled to myself. I hung my new 32" television on the north wall in front of my bed. I smiled as I realized that I'd done it all myself.

Then it was finally time to decorate. I placed all the DVDs my mother had bought me in the new holder. Then I moved onto the bed. I put white Hello Kitty sheets on the bed, a black blanket, and a black comforter. I had two pillows that were covered with the same Hello Kitty print as my sheets, and a Hello Kitty plushie. I placed the iPod alarm clock on the end table with a solid black lamp with a light pink shade. I put my new laptop on the desk, and plugged it in to charge. I then hooked the printer up, and added another lamp just like the one on my end table. I put together a new black swivel desk chair, and added a smaller Hello Kitty plushie to the seat. I added my book collection to the book shelf. I put three notebooks, a binder, a pack of pens, a pack of lead pencils, and a composition book in the top left hand drawer of the desk, and in the top right hand side, I put my journal. It was black with a worn cover and bent spine. It was beginning to show it's age. I put my new digital camera in the bottom left. I put two pictures on the desk. Both with the same frame. One was the picture I had taken from the book earlier, and another was a picture a stranger had taken at the mall earlier. I was standing beside my mother. She was smiling. Her age beginning to show in the lines on her face. Her scrubs wrinkled and her hair pulled away from her face in a messy bun. She still looked beautiful to me. Then there was me. My black hair was teased out with dark blue clip in extensions in my bottom layer. A big navy blue bow on the front. I wore lots of eyeliner, and four black balls decorated my extremely pierced lip. Spider bites on both sides. I had on a navy blue long sleeved shirt that showed my hip bones under a navy blue, white and black plaid hoodie, dark skinny jeans, and navy and blue plaid ballet flats. I was smiling but it wasn't reaching my eyes. My entire left side was covered in an array of blue and purple bruises left over from my father's last big drunken stupor. I frowned as compared the two pictures. I used to be so happy, so carefree.

I put all my clothes, shoes, accessories, and bags in my closet and put a light pink plush rug on the floor. I put black towels and washcloths in the bathroom along with my favorite strawberry shampoo, strawberry soap, a new razor, and shaving cream. I put my toiletry bag under the sink, and walked into my closet. I grabbed a new pair of black and gray pajama bottoms, and a black long sleeved shirt that showed my hipbones. I walked over to the bed, and set the alarm for the morning. I had church, I smirked. I hadn't been to church in so long. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.