Hello! This is my new story so please go easy on me.

I would reallllly LOVE to have a Beta cause it would make things a lot easier for me. But in the mean time; if you see any spelling mistakes or grammar bummers, please tell me, it would be much appreciated BUT, I'm from Australia so if you see things like "colour" when you spell it "color" then that's just how we Aussies do things… if it pisses you off to no end then PM me or put it in your review and I'll try to remember to change it for future references.

This is rated 'M' 'cause of swearing and future LEMONSSSSSS :D

So if you can't, wont, or don't read those then please don't read this… unless you want me to mark when and where I'll put a lemon.

I don't have a UD schedule. YET. Sorry.

Sooo, yesssm… I think that's all…

Yeah, well, you know the drill, Review! :D

Bella Marie Swan

Chapter One…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I fumble around my dressing table looking for that goddamn alarm clock. My elongated fingers curl around a round object. I grip it for a few seconds to make sure it's actually my alarm clock before I hurl the retched thing at the wall opposite my bed. I desperately try to grip a few more hours of sleep but come to the conclusion of what I was trying not to accomplish. I am now awake. No turning back. Oh god how I wish I could just go back in time and make my mother stay home so she could still be here with me. You see she died last week in a car crash. I was next to her in the car when I heard it. The shrill cries of the car's tires as they desperately try to get a grip on the hard surface. It's weird looking back, one minute we were laughing at all the absurd moves my mother was doing to some strange pop-rock music on the radio, and the next minute my mother is sharply turning the wheel to the left to try and dodge a possum, which then results in the on-coming car in the next lane crashing into us. I remember screaming and crying for mother to wake up as I laid her head in my lap outside the car. But she never did.

So I had no choice but to leave my once warm and loving home in Australia and come over to America so I could live with my father, Charlie, who made the terrible mistake of marrying a bitch of a woman. I thought that name suited her, so my permanent name for her since I was ten is 'step-bitch', but of course that's my little secret that I haven't let slip. Yet. She hates me, and I have no fucking idea why! Yeah sure when I was a little kid I was a bit… well 'naughty' I guess you'd put it… but I was a child for crying out loud! But I guess I can't help whom the bitch hates. Anywho, they had a child a year before I was born. Yeah I know what your all thinking- how was I born if my father was with step-bitch? Well he left step-bitch after Emmett was born and got together with my mother; next thing you know 'pop' out I come after just two months after my mother and father started 'seeing each other'. Then, he breaks up with my mother and goes back to step-bitch. Complicated I know. So that's the whole complicated and extremely boring story of my parents, now back to me.

It's been just five days since the accident and I'm meant to jump out of bed today and start my first day at my new high school after my so-called psychologist redeemed me stable. Five days! I'm so not ready to participate in social activities yet. I'm not ready, mentally and physically. I still have some bruises that hurt like hell and a scar that's on it's way to recovery secretly hidden under my side bangs. Mentally is a different story; I still break down crying when I think of my mother and I have nightmares every night about the car crash. The same thing every night. It's like I'm watching a movie, but at least if I was watching a movie I would be able to pause it or turn it off but it just keeps going and eventually stops but at the same place over and over again until I wake up screaming at the top of my lungs and covered in sweat with my body tangled in the sheets. So yeah, I think I can say that right now my life is hell.

I know I can't stall for much longer so I fling the sheets off of me with a big sigh.

"Time to start my first day at living-hell high" I grumble. Im not really a morning person, can you tell?

Once I've put on my favorite black jeans, red tank top, my black leather jacket, some mascara and lip-gloss, I head up stairs for breakfast.

"Morning, Bella." my father, Charlie, greets me as I sit down at the table with a bowl and some cereal.

"Morning." I answer half-heartedly

I frown as I realize that Emmett hasn't been home for the three days that I've been here.

"Where's Emmett?" I ask curiosity seeping into my voice

"He's been at a friends house." Charlie answers quickly. Strange.

"For three days?" I ask suspiciously

"Mmhmm," is his genius reply "but he's picking you up to take you to school."

Oh great. Emmett must be ecstatic about that. Not.

I start brushing my teeth just as I hear an impatient horn going off outside. Oh I guess I don't need to worry about Emmett not giving me a sign that his outside waiting. Typical. He and I have never really been close. Always fighting about stupid things. I guess that's kinda the usual with siblings but at least they show affection for one another every now and then. Oh well. I'll survive. I rush outside grabbing my bag, notebooks and some money off father.

As I race outside I see Emmett in a sleek black Mercedes with heavy metal music blasting away like no tomorrow… yeah, 'bout the car… did I forget to tell you that my dad's rich? No? Well… now you know.

I jump in and I've barely got my feet inside the car when he's already driving off.

"Hey! Watch it! You could have waited until I closed the god-dammed door!" I yell at Emmett.

"Well good morning to you too sunshine. Oh and you were taking to long." The big oaf states it like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Jerk."

"Now now, would you like me to drop you off at our school or would you like me to kick you out of the car right here so you can walk the rest of the way? Which would you rather?" he looks over at me expectantly.

"School, please." I mumble as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Ok then."

It seems that we're at Forks High way too soon for my liking. Maybe it was Emmett's insanely fast driving. I'm telling ya', he shouldn't be allowed to drive. He's lethal.

"If you want a ride home then be here when the bell rings, otherwise if your not here 5 minutes after the bell tops then your walkin' home. Got it?" he says seriously. Strict rules. Jeez.

"Yeah, yeah." I say as I get out of the car and make my way to the front gates. As I make my way onto school grounds I see people whispering and pointing to me. Oh great. I knew this was going to happen. Let the torture begin.

Classes go by in a blur. Luckily only two teachers introduced me to the class. Those subjects were advanced calculus and P.E. Well now I hate the subjects and the teachers. Even though I hate P.E I'm still really good at it. I hear the bell ring and I start to get an awful feeling at the pit of my stomach. Lunch. Oh goody. Now I can have all these people stare at me cause I'm the new kid. I hate it when guys stare at me, I mean I know I'm pretty and stuff but the way they just stare… and stare… and stare kinda gets on my nerves. So sue me. I hear the hum of voices as I step into the enormous cafeteria. Oh god, so many people. I bite my lip as a wave of nervousness crashes over me. It's so strong that I just wanna crawl into a ball and become invisible. I decide to buy some time so I go over to get a bottle of water and a fruit salad. I look around for empty seats as I walk. I spot a guy sitting alone at a table a few feet from me. He's cute. I think, as I get closer. He has this amazing bronze colored hair that could only be described as 'sex-hair'. I Really, really, like 'sex-hair'. His body looks pale; like the kind of pale that you tend to worry about. He's wearing a black top and what looks like black skinny-jeans. Colorful kid.

"Mind if I sit down?" I say, but I don't wait for an answer; I place my food on the table and my bag on the floor.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" he says, venom dripping off his words. Green eyes. I think I just dribbled...

"Well aren't you just a charmer." I say as I put my elbows on the table and rest my chin on the backs of my hands.

"Answer my fucking question, bitch."

"Well, I'm sitting." I say as if I'm explaining it to a three year old. And let me tell you, he don't like to be talked to like a child.

"Fuck off! You fucking bitch! Get off my table!" he yells loudly but not enough to get anyone's attention. As I study him I realize with a start that this foul-mouthed, superior attitude is just a Facade. This isn't how he is deep down. And the only reason I know this is because I've been keeping up the exact same thing since my mother died. It's not very hard. People don't look hard enough for the truth. Most of the time they don't even want the answer to "How are you". They're just saying it because they don't wanna sound rude. I remember hoping that someone would figure out what I'm feeling and just hold me and not ask me questions about it or tell me that I'll get over it in time. I just want them to be quiet while they hold me. And I think this guy wants that too.

"Why do you feel the need to keep up this fake Facade? Why do you feel the need to cover up your feelings with fake anger and hatred for everyone? Is it because you don't want anyone to get close to you? Did something happen where someone you love was taken away from you? Or betrayed you? Is that why you don't want anyone to get close to your heart? Because you think you'll end up loosing them too? It's that isn't it? Someone you love was taken away from you, so you figure that if you don't let anyone in, then no one else can get out." I say with as much understanding and caring as let slip out. I know I'm right 'cause he's just sitting there with his mouth hanging open; I'm surprised that it didn't hit the floor. But I'm not done yet.

"I know what its like. Loosing someone you love. It's hard, excruciating really. I know how fucking annoying it is when people tell you that it's better if you talk about it or that you get over it over time, and I also know that that's total bullshit. It doesn't help to talk about it and you most certainly do not get over it over time. But I do know that you need to open up, you need to be loved to be able to put the pieces back together. But to be loved you need to love that person too and allow them to come in." my voice still held all that caring and love and I'm surprised that I didn't just pull him into a back-crushing hug right then and there. I grab my bag and get up off the bench, but before I walk away I say; "The pain doesn't go away, but it does eventually get a little bit better piece by piece when you have that special someone to help you." I give him a small smile before turning around and making my way through the crowd and out the door.

0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.

Arghh! When is this day gonna end? Who in their right mind would think of doing six hours of this everyday! Mad man.

I'm tempted just to skip the next class, seeing as its just science. I mean I'm not gonna become a scientist, so what's the point? Fuck it I say... well think.

As the bell rings I gather up my notebooks and head for the door. But as I'm just about to step out into the busy corridor I see fake Facade guy, well that's not really his name but I forgot to ask so I don't see how it can hurt to call him that until I know for sure. He's looking at me. It's true; as soon as he sees me he freezes, stops packing up his stuff and just stares at me with curiosity, as if he's trying to figure out an extremely hard puzzle. He is rather good-looking with his muscular build. His eyes are so green, I've never seen anything like it; it's like a forest. So deep and calm, but sometimes conquers up a storm-like-battle. But they hold an undeniably soft gaze. That's actually how I figured out that he is more than just an anger ridden, foul-mouthed teenager. His eyes. While I was in my own little world I let out a yelp as I realize that I'm being tugged out the door rather roughly. I'm shoved up against the wall as I look at my attacker. He has thin dirty blond hair that looks rather messy, but also looks pretty good on him, Blue murky eyes and a honey tan. He's wearing black skinny jeans - what's with all the boys wearing black skinny jeans with them hanging halfway down their butts? – And a nice white shirt that hugs his chest and semi-abs nicely Oh great it's that rich boy. What was his name? Oh yeah, that's right: Mike. His being eyeing me very closely since I got here and it's starting to creep me out.

It's then that I notice that no one's in the corridor. Where is everyone? Oh class must have started

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? You're a pretty one aren't you?" Mike says as he strokes my cheek. It would have been a sweet gesture if his eyes weren't clouded with lust and an evil glint. Instead it just made me feel sick to have him this close.

"Take your disgusting hands off me!" I yell in his face. He just chuckles at my ferocity as if I just said something that he found extremely funny.

"Feisty aren't ya? Well, lucky for you I like them feisty," he says as his hand runs down from my cheek to my neck as he strokes it up and down in a menacing way. I try to push him away but he just presses himself more firmly against me.

"Get. You're. Fucking. Hands. Off Her." I hear in a menacing and deadly voice. I turn my head and see Fake Facade Boy standing there with fists clenched and shooting daggers at Mike. I hear a growl and turn to see Mike glaring at Fake Facade Boy, in other words; his distracted, make a run for it! I take my chance and wrench my grip from Mike; making a run for Fake Facade Boy's direction, but before I can make it safely to his side I'm wrenched back into Mike's chest as a strong and firm arm wraps around my waist. I try desperately to get away but just results in Mike tightening his hold on me until it's hard to breath. He lowers his head and whispers in my ear, "Stop struggling and I wont severally hurt your friend here." My eyes go wide as I take in what he said. His a rich guy so I don't doubt for a second that he will get some big, dangerous man to do a little beating around. I look at Fake Facade Guy- ok; I really need to find out what his real name is 'cause this 'Fake Facade guy' name is getting on my nerves- and can't help but cringe at the thought of him battered and bloody. Not him. I stop struggling in an attempt to spare him, Mike chuckles as he whispers in my ear; "that's a good girl. Now I know what your weakness is." He starts kissing down my neck and I'm trying to resist the urge to puke when out of nowhere a fist connects with Mike's cheek.

"I told you to keep your fucking hands off of her. Mouth included." My hero. Fake Facade Guy gently pushes me behind him so that his between Mike on the ground and me.

"What's she to you? She's just a bitch who will no doubt turn into a whore like all the rest of the bitches around here." Mike says.

Ok, now that was harsh and completely un-called for, and to say, I'm quite bit offended.

"She can do or become what ever, or who ever, she wants. But she has the right to say no to Fucking Pansy Cupcakes like you."

I'm about to open my mouth to say that I actually really like cupcakes, when I think better of it at the last second. I can tell him later.