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Chapter 1 - Reflecting
Two faces making faces at the camera. A man and a little girl, a smile gracing both of their faces – bright-eyed and carefree, radiating happiness.
Me and Daddy
My dad, Charlie, and I used to have the closest bond a father and his daughter were capable of having. I remember standing on top of his feet and learning how to dance – not that it helped, I'm not exactly the most graceful person in the world. But I enjoyed those dances nonetheless.
My mother was a slightly different case. I loved her equally, of course, she was my mom, she cared for me, loved me and kissed me goodnight, but she wasn't always there. She acted like I was supposed to act when I was a six year old. Always out, didn't have a job and wasn't able to look after her own family. But I loved her and Daddy was there, so I was more than glad with the life I lived.
But my fog of blissful happiness faded over the years, and eventually disappeared.
Almost every member of my family gave me some money on my seventh birthday so I could study when I'd be older.
Two days later all the money mysteriously disappeared.
Dad had stolen the money, my mom told me when I was eleven.
Where did he need it for?
I'll tell you when you're older wherefore, Bella, she answered the unspoken question.
You have a lot to tell me when I'm older, Mom.
And she did. She always told me she'd explain everything when I'd be older. But I'm seventeen now, and although I know a lot more than I did back then, I want to know every little detail.
Not a week later not only the money, but Daddy also had disappeared. I cried and cried and sobbed and sobbed. Why did he leave? I can't blame myself for not understanding the situation back then. I was seven – just a little girl. But I knew he was coming back. He always would, he promised.
I stubbornly believed no one in a lifetime would ever, ever, ever, break a pinky promise.
And Dad did return, baggy-eyed, awfully pale, clothes crumpled and carrying a stench impossible to forget. He didn't hug me anymore – or Mom, for that matter. He snapped at me for the most unreasonable little things – tripping over stuff, coming home too late while I wasn't late at all… I didn't like the new Daddy and slowly but surely, Daddy became Charlie.
Soon Charlie wasn't the only one snarling, Mom was too.
"I needed that money, Charlie!"
"Yeah, right! Where do you want to spend it on? Perfume, jewellery?"
"Shut the fuck up! I needed that money for food –"
"You never cared, Renee. Why do you now?"
Silence.
It was beginning to become a daily routine – waking up, school, coming home, screaming and eating somewhere in between.
Charlie always left me alone. He just snapped and yelled at me when I did something wrong. But there were these times Charlie was Daddy again. Sweet, gentle and reading Alice in Wonderland, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and A Series of Unfortunate Events for me. I liked listening to his voice, even though it was a lot more hoarse than it was before his mysterious disappearance.
I'd always forgive him for snapping and yelling, even when he didn't apologize.
Maybe I shouldn't have.
The time my eighth birthday approached, everything became a bit too much for Mom. I'll always remember that day. A lot of screaming, of course, and I heard the green-and-orange-and-blue-and-yellow-and-purple vase I made for Daddy and Mom when I was six break into a thousand of teeny-tiny pieces.
I didn't know it was my vase falling at the time, of course.
"That's it!" a voice screeched furiously, "I'm leaving! And I'm taking Bella with me!"
Goodbye, beautiful, sunny Phoenix and hello, rainy, depressing Forks.
I dreaded moving. Mom thought nothing about it, but all my friends lived in Phoenix, Arizona. I promised to keep in contact with them, but long, extended conversations on the phone turned into awkward silences and no two years later those friends were faded memories.
Never in a million years I expected my mom to move to a place like Forks. Mom loved the sun and its warmth, just like I did. But apparently there was this centre for single mothers and their children there that could help us out. We had no money, no home and no one who could help us out.
But why Forks, Mom? It's awful –
Apparently Forks was a place Charlie would never find us. That was true, I gave her that, but why Forks? There were thousands of little towns, why Forks? It was awful, rainy, ugly and green.
Mom got herself a job as a secretary so she could find us a place of our own. The house she bought us was small and a scowl covered my face just looking at it, just like a scowl covered my face every time I thought about something related to Forks.
That included Mom's boss, a man named Phil Dwyer, ten years younger than she was and possessing a language that could make a sailor blush.
I hated waking up, walking into the living room and seeing my mom and some strange, unknown man cuddling up on the couch. I scowled at the pretty picture they made together. Him in his yellow boxers and her wearing nothing but a robe.
It was disgusting.
But I did eventually warm up on Phil a bit and living with him wasn't too bad. I just couldn't understand how easily Mum replaced Charlie. She'd been with him since she was eighteen and here she was, five months after leaving her husband hugging and kissing with him like they knew each other for years.
"How would you feel about calling Phil 'daddy', sweetie?"
No way. I would never call Phil that. Who did she think she was? I would never call anyone 'daddy' in my life. Especially not after that day.
We got a letter that day – Tuesday, August 14, to be precise – and I knew Mom shouldn't have opened it only by seeing the ugly red stamp that was glaring at me. But unfortunately Mom did open it. I watched as her eyes roamed over the letter, her eyes watering and finally rolling down her cheeks in the form of tears.
"Oh, sweetheart," she sobbed, "Charlie is dead."
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said quietly, my voice pitying, "I knew Uncle Charles was really important to you." I never really got to know my uncle and his wife Makenna myself. They were there at family party's, but –
"No – oh, God – sweetie, Bella," and it was her voice that was full of compassion this time. "I mean Charlie, your father."
And with that I flew to my room, jumping on my bed and crying and screaming in my pillow.
Mom never knew I cried.
Charlie had thrown himself in front of a train.
Drugs does that to you, Mom told Phil and me as we reflected.
Drugs? As soon as the words escaped my mother's lips she knew she was wrong. Her face twisted into an ugly grimace and her eyes flickered from Phil, who was sharing her horrified expression, to me.
I was thirteen when I had my first joint. My neighbor Jane, a small girl with pale brown hair who was the very first to welcome me in my new neighborhood, somehow got in possession of drugs.
"I don't know, Jane," I mumbled anxiously. "How did you get them?"
She smiled deviously, "You know my mom's friend Chelsea, right?" I did. Chelsea was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. She worked as a prostitute in Seattle and was Jane's mom's best friend, even though Chelsea was roughly twenty years younger. I shouldn't be surprised Jane got them from her – Chelsea was a wild one. "These were in her purse."
Drugs does that to you, my mom's words repeated themselves in my head. I shouldn't do it, but Jane was one of the nicest girls I'd bumped into here and she was really cool.
"I really don't know – this is illegal, you know?"
"Aren't you sick of being the good girl all the time?"
I think that did it. I stupidly nodded my head as she handed me a the joint. I should've shoved it back at her, but I didn't. She watched me, inhaling herself as she put the stick between her lips, and I took a small drag. I coughed a bit at the foreign feeling.
"Make sure you really inhale," Jane told me.
Sorry, Jane, but I'd rather not cough my brains out, but I did as she said and put the joint loosely between my lips. I took a deep breath and I swear I felt it going down my lungs. I coughed again, harder this time, gasping for air. Why did I ever agree on this? I tried again, taking a very small drag and really holding the smoke down for a few seconds, before exhaling.
I didn't really feel the thrill Jane seemed to feel, but a second one soon followed and I was rolling over the floor with her. Laughing hysterically about how Jane's socks looked like the rainbow and how pretty the colors of the rainbow actually were, then laughing about the fact that we were laughing about something like rainbows, then laughing because we couldn't remember what we were laughing about and then laughing because we forgot what we were laughing about.
Jane had an older sister, Heidi, who proved to be a much better friend, but that didn't mean Jane was out of my life for good. There'd happened too much between me and Jane to pretend we were friends and act like nothing ever happened. Jane also had a twin brother, Alec, who mostly kept quiet. I liked Alec – he lets you scream and throw with stuff, but doesn't ask if there's something wrong.
Heidi was only a year older than I was, but I'd always looked up to the pretty brunette. There was a period in my life I considered her my best friend, before I went to High School. She introduced me to her friends, Irina, who was even more fucked up than Jane was, sleeping with so much guys she stopped counting at twenty, Aro, Caius, Marcus, Demetri, Felix, Charlotte and Peter, all of them much older than I was and so unbelievably cool. Aro immediately took the role of big brother, saying I was 'cute' and would really fit in with them.
God, I was a fool.
There was fire everywhere. My heart was racing and beads of sweat were seeping over my forehead. Everybody was laughing and nobody seemed to be scared of the vicious orange flames that were taking over the place. I looked back at Aro, but he, just like everybody else, had this lazy, serene smile on his face and didn't seem to think much of the terror.
"Aro?" I tugged at his shirt to get his full attention.
His grey-blue eyes found mine, "Yeah, Bella?"
"Why's nobody scared of the fire?" I asked, distress coloring my voice. Really, I was frightened and I didn't know what was going on. I knew they'd used cocaine and other drugs. I'd known them long enough to know that, but this was going too far.
"There isn't going to happen anything. Everything's planned out," he replied with a playful little tug at my hair.
"For what?" I asked curiously, but his steely look was enough to shut me up. He put the joint that was safely tucked between his fingers in his mouth and a content smile covered his face. He closed his eyes, looking unbelievably careless for someone so troubled. One eye opened idly once he realized I was still looking at him.
"You have nothing to worry about," he grinned, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Want one?"
Without breaking eye contact I slowly shook my head.
"Aro, I got it," a voice broke our gaze. I looked up to see Caius, Aro's half brother, walking towards us with a very satisfied expression on his face.
Aro smiled, looking very pleased, and without so much as a goodbye, left, flanked by Caius, leaving me alone. The panic from before returned as I looked around me. Not that I could see much – the air was thick with smoke from the fire and the cigarettes and the pot everybody was smoking. I was almost scared to breathe, because every time I did everything became fuzzy and the people around me turned into blurred silhouettes.
I looked around again, feeling uncomfortable. Everybody was so much older. I knew most of them – I saw Irina, a bright green bottle in her hands, sitting on some boy's lap, and Marcus, observing just like me, but, very much unlike me, he looked like he belonged here and knew what he was doing. I saw Peter too, his arm around Charlotte's shoulders, laughing with some of his friends.
God, what am I doing here? I peeped at my watch, realizing how much time had passed since Aro left with his brother…
He wasn't coming back.
I'd been so scared that day. I'd always liked hanging out with Aro and his cool friends, but they weren't themselves at times like that.
Did they ever act like themselves then?
The sibling-like relationship I shared with Aro blurred. The stupid thing was that he didn't seem to realize he'd seriously hurt me that day by not coming back. He still acted like he did before, with his 'hey, Bells', because he knew he was the only one who was allowed to call me Bells. Daddy – Daddy, not Charlie – always used to call me Bells. And although I did tell Aro not to call me that, he was the only one to continue.
I still see Aro, Heidi, Irina and their little group once in, oh, two weeks.
When I was fourteen I started High School and I realized how small my world had been. There was so much more than Aro, Heidi, and their group. You don't have to smoke, drink and go to third base to gain friends, I learned from Rosalie.
Rosalie Hale and I hated each other at first sight. I thought she was a manipulating, attention-seeking bitch and she thought I was stupid, good-for-nothing wanna-be her. I never believed in the aspect 'hate on first sight', but once I saw the tall, blonde-haired girl on my first day at Forks High School, I got the urge to scream at her and childishly pull her hair.
That was until we got to know each other. I remember that day very clearly – I went for a walk through the woods. Really, as much as I hate Forks, I can't deny the woods are very picturesque and rich. It's just too bad there isn't a sun to embellish the massive branches and colorful leaves. There was this huge tree with a human-sized hollow in it. I liked to just sit there and think about life in general. About Daddy – about Charlie – and Mom and later boyfriends, friends and school.
Seriously, how could I ever known that was Rosalie's secret place too?
She was sitting there, cross-legged, her hair in a messy ponytail, and writing in what looked like a journal. As soon as she heard the leaves crunch from my footsteps, she looked up.
Never, ever I have been in such an awkward situation.
And after a few acid 'what the hell are you doing here's and 'did you actually follow me?'s there was a silence. I don't really know what happened, but at a point we just talked. She told me she had been coming to the hollow of the tree since she was four and the rest of the conversation just followed. She told me everything about her life. That she hated that according to her parents she could never do something right – her grades weren't high enough, she didn't sport enough, she should do something with her life…
And the words just poured out. I told her everything. Stupid, actually. My mom tried several therapists, but none of them seemed to understand. But a therapist was for the best, my mom insisted. The therapist isn't someone close to me, so that person can't judge and would understand better. But Rosalie was a lot more helpful. We cried that day – and we saw each other at our worst.
And that's how Rosalie Hale became my best friend.
AN: My very first chapter on FanFiction! Please review!
Dory