Author's Note:

[This is just my musings about the chapter, feel free to skip it to the main story.]

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the main character of the story acted completely out of character. Initially, I wanted to write about this with Harry Potter and somehow whatever scenarios I came up with it felt cliché to me. Be it evil! Harry, independent! Harry and so on. I asked a Psychologist what would be the definition of Psychologically Out of Character, she replied, this would like the subject differ from person to person and perspective to perspective and so I am doing this with, wait for it, Twilight. As I have not read many a twilight fanfictions, I don't know whether this is cliché or not, so please bear with me.

Also, I must warn you I read the books twice but four years ago, I am going by the character analysis of my friend who is reading the story now and summaries of each chapter available online.

This is just in case I don't get biased.

I know it must be romance, but I haven't decided any pairing yet. And we will cross that bridge together if you stick with me. This will be in Bella POV and Bella centered, yet different from Stephanie Meyer's creations.

Summary: A slight alteration in the character may lead to major alteration in one's life and this is the main theme of the story here. This revolves around canon (as much as possible) with a psychologically and emotionally different Bella Swan. Bella POV.

Prologue

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt - sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America.

My mother Renee had escaped this town when I was mere months old. According to her the town was gloomy and depressing. I would believe her, a town without sun is something that would not suit her lively and sunny personality. Yet, she stayed there for my father, because she was in love with him. When I hear their love story, I am surprised by the fact that she left him but I cannot opine and I should not opine. Neither on my parents, nor on the climate of my imminent new home, Forks.

I did not spend enough time there to make an opinion.

Like many individuals my age, that is, seventeen, I am opinionated on various topics and have firm beliefs. Also, I have resolved, after many incidents, never to make an opinion or a prejudice about anyone on the basis of second-hand knowledge, biased speech or lack of experience.

You don't know what a person is going through until you have been in their shoes. I haven't been in neither of my mother's nor my father's and thus, I make it a point to shut about their life and marriage.

Whilst I had spent one month of every summer in Forks I believe I haven't experienced it enough. The only people I have met of Forks are the residents of La Push, an Indian Reservation near Forks so I don't know anything about their scanty population.

I am not the best conversationalist and was never one of the popular kids of school back in Phoenix and sometimes I did feel out of place, maybe a new setting and a new beginning is what I needed.

It was to Forks that I now exiled myself - an action that I don't know how I feel about, to be honest. As much as I would like the reason behind this decision be self-less like my mother believes it is a bit selfish. Yes, I want to give my mother and Phil, her new husband privacy as well as long time with each other. The latter would be possible without me as Phil, being a baseball player toured a lot and Mom would love to be with him even though she assures me she is fine and happy, I know her enough to see through the fact.

I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city but even with the crowd, I sometimes feel lonely, I don't know why. Sometimes I feel it is some sort of self-compulsion I have placed upon myself, either way, a change of scene seemed like a necessity.

"Bella," my mom said to me - the last of a thousand times - before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."

My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, hair-brained mother to fend for herself?

Of course she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still...

"I want to go," Yes, that I did, I wanted to go.

"Tell Charlie I said hi." Mom says and does not fail to sound indifferent, maybe even feels that way?

While my mother has been my best friend, my only best friend, she has been tight-lipped about the whole Dad plus Forks scenario and I respect her privacy, while this does not stop me from wanting to know more.

Besides, them being my parents, I can't just let go with not knowing, I need to know, well at least some things, some things which peak my curiosity. So no, I won't know about the latest fashion trends or the juicy celebrity gossips, yet I would know all the trivia about my favourite book and author and singer, whatever they do, I will know.

"I will." I reply, trying my best to keep emotions out of my voice. This was the tradition and that is how the two of us behaved whenever my father came up.

"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want - I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise, she would be back in a blink of an eye if I need her but I know it would hurt her.

"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged my tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.
It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Dad, though, I was a little worried about. The both of us, were people of little words and as I spent most of the year with my mother I don't know much about him. But I am sure, this would be an opportunity to know him, to understand him and get to know his side of story.
Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I took in the musty smell of the mud, somehow calming. I had said my goodbyes to the sun. And I was yet to make an opinion about the rain. But the sense of calmness I felt was reassuring, somehow saying that it was going to be alright.
Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Cheif Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows traffic down like a cop. No offence, but I was still a seventeen year old girl, joining High School in mid-semester.

Dad hugged me. I mentally chastised myself as I kept oscillating between referring him as Dad and Charlie. In my opinion, I did not feel close enough to call him Dad but I did not want to hurt his feelings by calling him Charlie.

I refer to him Dad sometimes, though. I never felt like calling any other of Mom's boyfriends as Dad. Dad, even though less frequently, had always been Charlie.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad."

I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.
"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy." I found myself smiling at that, I was prone to accidents, or just mishaps, as I was undoubtedly clumsy and the lack of friction in Forks due to snow and rain would not help me. So a truck suited me fine. It was the best option for me, a sturdy truck which could survive bumps and the like.

"Where did you find it?" I ask, still smiling.

"Do you remember Billy Black from La Push?"

"Yeah, the guy you used to go fishing with, right?"

"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie said nodding, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask.

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine - it's only a few years old, really."
I hope he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. "When did he buy it?"

"He bought it in 1984, I think."

"Did he buy it new?"

"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties - or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Dad, I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic..." I say, uncertainly, my mom was not the best in savings and well, we were not that grand. I was aiming at finding a part-time job within the next week or as soon as I adjusted to the new...everything.

"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."
I shake my head but acquiesce; now only one problem remains.

"How cheap is cheap?" I ask.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.

Wow. Free. I smile and almost hug him, I would have given him a full hug but he stopped me not to mean offence or anything. I would just say two words to explain his behaviour, chief and driving.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad."

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he said this.

Dad, like me, was not good with expression of emotions. I smile, I had to make some changes in myself because I did not just need to survive this but live here, happily. I had two years, well almost two years of high school and then University, I needed to bond with Dad to the best of my capability and Mom's marriage and her need for privacy had given me the perfect opportunity, which I am sure, I would use to the best I can.

So, in a very unlike 'me' manner, I smile brightly and say, "Thanks Dad and give him a kiss on the cheek."

Dad smiles brightly, and in that moment I can imagine an eighteen year old Renee falling for a twenty-one year old Charlie.

So, this is the first chapter I would love to learn your opinions on whether should I continue this story or not. Please feel free to add your ideas in the reviews because I am making this up as I go along.

Love,

Anka.