Disclaimer: I do not own any of this, its copyrighted by Stephanie Meyer, and blah blah blah. Twilight sucks. Hannah's Love, Chapter 1

I woke up gloomily by my alarm clock. 'This is just one of those days.' I thought. It happens alot these days. Mum says I'm going through an 'emotional crisis.' Dad says I just need a man. My friends won't help, in fact they don't even talk to me anymore. All of them exept Adam. Adam wasn't really the kind of guy I could talk to about this. When I told him, he didn't help at all. "Maybe you'll be better when you move to Forks, Hannah." Fucking Forks. Way up North. Which means snow. I HATE snow. I've been described as the 'Summery' kind of person, which I am. All snow means is that it's too cold for rain. I'm usuallly out in the sun alot, but I'm really pale. I've got long, blonde hair and blue eyes, so I'm considered 'pretty'. I don't believe that, because no boys ever took noticed me. I personally think guys are douche bags, the way they act. At least half of them wear shorts under their sweat pants, then take the sweat pants off during school. I'm going to a private school in New Hampshire, unlike here in London. This means I have to wear a uniform. I've seen school uniforms before, with the little skimpy skirts and vests. I think skirts are repulsive. Girls here wear them to show off their asses to the guys. The vests are OK, I guess. I hope the colors are OK. I prefer black, which is what I usually wear so it won't make much of a difference. Mum says black is too 'goth'. Well, goth is me. I'm too shy to actually skip classes, like my new 'goth group' does. I'm afraid Mum and Dad will find out. Hopefully I'll fit in at my new school. I think something just broke in the kitchen. Mum must be pissed. As I go down to inspect what's happening, I hear Mum shriek "IT WON'T FIT!" When I saw what she was trying to do, I wasn't surprised. She was trying to fit the last porcelain cup into the moving box. I think she overreracts when it comes to her porcelain set. Dad was cramming all his 'home work-out' stuff into the boxes. I swear he's as thin as a twig already. I hardly have any stuff, so I've already packed everything. Right now I'm just about dying from boredom. I wish I had friends to talk to. When my friends 'talked' to me, they were usually asking "Which guy is cuter?" Or "Which guy should I go out with?" They mostly communicated with their friends by texting on their cellphones. I don't really see the point in texting when you're 5 feet away from each other. "Hannah, come on. The U-HAUL truck is here!" Mum said. She saw my sad face and said "Don't be sad, I've heard that American boys take a liking to English girls." "Mum, I don't give a fuck about fucking guys." I said. "Well, just last year you said you fancied that Fred boy."
"Did not!"
"Did to."
"Mum, like I said, I don't give a fuck about fucking boys."
"Language, Darling!" She cried as she slapped me. We finally got into the car. I was tired, so I decided to fall asleep. Anyway, the Heathrow was about an hour away from our house, which gives me plenty of time to sleep. When I slept, I had a strange dream. I got to New Hampshire, and suddenly I saw a boy. Not just any boy, but one like an angel. Then I remembered that angels don't have hands. But man, he was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, pale skin, warm, chocolate brown eyes. And from that moment on, I new I was in love.