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Prologue:

BPOV

Summer Between 8th and 9th grade (2 weeks before high school starts)

I was on the phone with one of my good friends Alice Cullen. I couldn't say best friend because I didn't have one of those. I'll admit it was kind of depressing, but really, the endless amount of acquaintances made up for it. I was the most popular girl in school, so I always had someone who wanted to be my partner. I didn't date because first, I was fourteen and my father wouldn't allow it, and second, because who wants to date kids going through puberty anyway? Especially when you live in a small town like Forks and have known everyone since kindergarten.

Alice was nice and wasn't fake, which made her okay in my book. We had even hung out a few times. She was crushing on this new guy named Jasper Hale. He had a twin named Rosalie that Alice's older brother Emmett was crushing on. They were both blond and beautiful, and being new made them some what of a novelty in this small town. Emmett was going into 11th grade, and the twins were going into 10th grade. Even though we were rising freshmen, I reassured Alice that she could probably still get Jasper, what with her status being as high as it was. Not to mention her cousin Edward was coming, and she was trying to set me up with him. He was going to be a freshman too. I hadn't met the kid, but Alice said that he was really cute, and that I should at least consider it. Apparently he was really smart too; almost as smart as me. Yeah right. I guess I'll make my opinion when I see him on the first day of school. I plan on sleeping the rest of my summer away.

"I just can't wait to start high school," she exclaimed.

"Yeah," I agreed, "it should be great."

When I was off the phone with Alice I figured that I would go say goodnight to my mother. My father was working the late shift at the police station tonight, and even though it was summer, I was still too tired to wait up for him. The house was really quiet, and as I made my way into my mother's bedroom, I noticed that the television was on, but she wasn't in here. The light in her bathroom however was on, and I heard a lot of movement. I also heard some moaning. I grimaced. I guess my father had decided to come home early after all.

As I turned around to walk out the door, I heard a man's voice that I didn't recognize that said "bitch" in a menacing manner.

I stumbled into the bed, but made quick work to get into the first place I could find. The closet. When I got into the closet, I closed the wooden blinds that made me seem invisible, but I could still see out.

My mother and the strange man came out of the bathroom. He was holding her by her hair, and she was crying. He kept punching her, and throwing her around like a rag doll. I cried silently, knowing that if this man knew of my presence, it wouldn't be good.

That is when he took out the knife. My whole world came crumbling down. With each stab that the man made into my mother I winced. I counted seven stabs. My eyes were wide as the man started to walk away. I didn't even get to see what he looked like. Just as I thought he was leaving he turned at the doorway, pulled out a gun, and shot my mother's lifeless body one last time.

"Where is that little bitch?"

I'm guessing that he was talking about me. In my stunned state I somehow found my phone. Everything happened so fast, I didn't have time to use it, let alone remember that I had it. I could hear the man destroying our house, turning it inside out, looking for me probably.

I dialed 911, and since it was probably a slow night, my father, Chief of Police answered, "911 operator."

"Daddy," I whispered.

His voice instantly filled with panic, "Bella baby, what's wrong."

"Mommy's dead, come quick, please." I said in quiet gasping breaths.

"I'll be right there baby."

Less than two minutes later, I saw the lights flashing through the bedroom windows, and heard the police sirens. They were here.

I heard the man mutter, "Shit," and leave the house.

Even though I knew he was gone, I couldn't find it in me to leave the closet. I couldn't find it in me to comfort my mother and hold her. She was gone, and so was I. Detached, I sat in the fetal position, waiting to be rescued, but knowing that the damage that has been done is permanent, and I can't really ever be rescued. As I hear the police's feet stomping up the stairs, I whisper "I love you mommy," and drifted off, not knowing when I would wake up.

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