A/N: It's stifling in my room. Real author's note at the bottom.
Disclaimer: Twilight characters are all the wonderful creations of Stephenie Meyer, but here, a few of them are my own. They play together =D
Preface
Freedom is a good feeling.
It's even better as I walk along the streets on which I was once captive. It almost makes me laugh when I remember that I used to think I owned this city and everyone in it. That was years ago…that was my life.
But I now believe what Carlisle once told me. You can't own a city.
I scoffed so much when I first heard this. He didn't know. He didn't know anything. Or so I thought.
I couldn't feel anything except extreme euphoria, but I couldn't show it. Old habits die hard. My feet didn't make any noise as they padded down the wet, dirty New York street. The Vanderbilt house stared down at me, almost frowning. Upset that it had lost one. Most people don't make it out of here the same. The best feeling came from knowing that I did. I was able to be fixed.
Sirens were going off, as they always did at night, and the sound of the rain hitting the pavement was loud to me. After all these years, the heightened senses were still a wonder to me. As was my hard, graceful, flawless body.
I chassé'd, grand jeté'd en avant en attitude…and just as my toe came down, I heard them. They were about seven hundred feet away, but they were getting closer. I wanted them to see me now, bare and unhidden. I could show them me, pure just like the day I was born. They had seen me at my absolute worst and still wanted me, still loved me. I kept walking. They knew me well enough to know where I'd be, and I needed to do this. I needed to walk past the house that had haunted me for the last half century. It got closer with every step I took.
"Ellie?"
Mé and Alice's voices rang out simultaneously. Still, I kept on.
"Ellie…Ellie…Ellie…"
The nickname that used to make me cringe never sounded better. They meant it affectionately…not maliciously…nor mockingly…nor with fear.
I stopped and stared at the giant, looming house…mansion. Even in the dark, rainy night it was still grand and magnificent. The white bricks used to give me such anxiety, fear, loathing. I felt nothing now, just an extreme sense of pride because I had conquered my greatest enemy. This house and everything it represented was no longer a part of me.
Home never tasted so sweet.
"Eleanor?"
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Chapter One: Forks
"Eleanor."
My father's voice called demandingly from below. I came to the banister and stared down expectantly.
"You're expected at the high school tomorrow," was all he said before he retreated into his study. I shrugged my shoulders and returned to my new outrageously clean cut room. I had no say when it came to decorating this room. My father took mercy on me and decided to paint the walls pink as opposed to leaving them white. He didn't want me to be reminded of that place…or rather; he didn't want anyone to know that white walls reminded me of any sort of ominous place. Doing something nice for me wasn't in his nature.
"Miss Elli-"
"Eleanor," I corrected through my teeth.
"Miss Eleanor," Elizabeth said, a blush coloring her cheeks, "dinner is ready."
"I'll be down shortly. Thank you."
If Elizabeth was surprised at the nicety that just tumbled from my lips, she hid it well. It was a recent development, a result from…
Didn't matter. I made sure I was presentable enough in the mirror before I exited my pretty pink room to eat dinner with my father.
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I sunk down further into my seat as we pulled up in front of the school. Pointless, really, it's not like anyone could see me through the dark tinted windows.
Don't draw attention to yourself. Ignore them, they'll ignore you.
I dared to take a peak out the windows and saw every single student here staring at the car with their mouths agape. I groaned.
"Was the Rolls Royce really necessary?" I asked George shortly. He chuckled.
"I suppose your father wanted to make an impression."
"Sounds like daddy," I murmured under my breath.
"Ready?"
"No."
He smiled teasingly before getting out of the car and walking around to open my door. He held a hand out and I took it before I set my foot upon the concrete of Forks High School for the first time. Maybe it was just me, but the ground made a funny sound, like it was rejecting my Louboutins. As soon as I was completely out of the car, I pulled my Burberry coat tighter around me. I squinted at the rather uninteresting set of buildings in front of me. The rest of my new fellow students were still staring at me as if they had never seen a human being before.
"Your bag, Miss Eleanor," said George as he handed me my tote. I took it and hauled it gracefully over my shoulder before stepping away from the car.
"I'm to take you to the main office and make sure you're all settled in."
"Okay."
He led the way and I followed closely behind, terrified of getting lost in this sea of unfamiliar faces. My eyes looked down, but all I saw was my nose. I tried to put my head down, but it just popped right back up. Old habits die hard.
"Hello, how can I help you?" I heard a sweet, yet bored, voice ask. My eyes looked in front of me. I hadn't even realized we were already in the office.
"Yes, this young lady here is a new student-"
"Ahh, Miss Estay?"
"Yes…" George looked quite disconcerted at being cut off. That didn't happen where we came from. I held back my chortle.
"Of course. Here is your schedule, a map, and I'll need you to get your teachers to sign this slip,"
she handed me the papers, "and bring it back to me at the end of the day."
"Yes."
"I'm sure there will be plenty of students willing to show you around. Do you have any questions?"
"No."
"Alright, well I'll let you get to class. Have a great first day, and welcome to Forks."
"Thank you."
I turned around and walked outside into the rain. I felt George following me.
"Eleanor," he called hesitantly. I turned around and raised an eyebrow in question. This was new. There was always a 'Miss' in front of my name when it was being uttered by our servants.
"I don't think this is my place, please stop me if I'm being too forward," he began cautiously. I nodded, gesturing for him to go ahead.
"This is your second chance. I believe this new environment will be the best thing that could happen to you. Please, take advantage of it."
His eyes really seemed to beg. I had always liked George. He had done so much for me, and even though I knew he didn't really care for me, he was very good at pretending that he did.
"I will," I promised. He nodded his head and turned around to return to the car. I pivoted on my right foot and walked towards the rest of the buildings, looking down at the map as I went.
Until I felt an enthusiastic tap on my shoulder.
"Hey, you're the new girl right? Eleanor Estay?"
I nodded.
"Hi, I'm Dan. Pretty much the all-knowing around here," he joked. I smiled half-heartedly before I walked ahead of him.
"Hey, you need someone to show you around?"
I turned.
"No." I pivoted again and took a step, before grimacing and turning back around.
"But thank you."
He gave me a half smile before walking away. I sighed and continued on my way to class.
And what an interesting school this was. The last time I had experienced a 'real school' was years ago, far enough in my past that I couldn't exactly remember what it had looked like. The walls were full of posters encouraging academic excellence, and there were metal, storage units…I believe they're called lockers, lining the hallways. I finally made it to my first period class and I entered, a few minutes late. The class was quietly working and the teacher sat at an oak desk in the front of the room. My face almost betrayed my surprise.
There were desks…I thought those were only in movies! The students actually sat at desks…writing with pencils and pens…didn't they have computers?
"He-hem," the teacher cleared his throat. I turned my head away from the scene in front of me and walked to him.
"Hello. My name is Eleanor Estay, I'm new here and this is my first day," I said politely before handing him the slip the lady in the office told me to get signed. He nodded and signed it in the designated spot for first period and handed it back to me. He held a finger up at me, a universal sign to wait. Again, my face almost betrayed my emotions. Civilized people actually hold up fingers at you?
He wordlessly handed me a large, square, heavy book and pointed me towards a seat right in the middle of the room. Appalled, I headed towards my new seat and sat down.
The rest of my day was about the same…some teachers were nicer, some made me introduce myself to the rest of the class, which totally messed with my 'don't attract any attention' plan, but it was my first day in a small town, people were bound to talk. Even in my old city, it would've caused gossip; we just would've been classier about it.
But I wasn't there anymore, and like George said, this was my second chance.
This was a blessing bigger than any I would ever encounter in my existence.
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BPOV
Lunch.
The bane of our existences. I saw Renesmee twirling her spaghetti around, bored as usual. I stared at the plaster that had changed since the last time we were here. My sensitive eyes saw the patterns that were too small for the rest of the human students to see.
"Everyone's been buzzing about the new girl," Rosalie said airily.
"Déjà vu," Edward teased. I smirked.
"You have a thing for those, don't you?"
"Hm…well if she's a brunette…"
The table erupted in silent laughter; Emmett's shaking the entire table. Only Renesmee had an expression of disgust.
"Gross," she spat. Alice's laugh tinkled.
"How do you think you got-"
"ALICE!"
I giggled and turned to look up at my Greek God of a husband. He smiled crookedly down at me, and my dead heart pulsed.
Suddenly, the silence in the cafeteria was deafening. I knew what this meant.
The new girl had arrived at her first lunch.
"What did you say her name was again, Alice?" I asked. She closed her eyes for a moment.
"Eleanor Estay."
"As in…the Manhattan Estays?" Rosalie asked. Alice shrugged her shoulders, an imperceptible movement.
"I suppose."
I made sure to not look too curious as I inconspicuously turned my head to survey the newcomer.
Tall. Skinny, but not scarily so. Eyes cast downward, head held high. She was trying to portray timidity, but was failing miserably. Her upturned nose showed her confidence. Her steps were fluid and perfect, easy and not calculated. I felt a tinge of jealousy; why couldn't I have had that grace when I was a human? Jasper sensed it and gave a snicker.
Her eyes were brown, as was her hair. Not mahogany like mine, more chocolate. Dark chocolate. Her three inch heeled designer boots were the only noise audible in the entire cafeteria. She didn't look anyone in the eye.
I had gotten so distracted that I didn't notice her coming this way. I felt a bit of panic arise; she couldn't possibly want to sit with us, could she? No, she didn't know any of us.
But she wasn't coming to our table. She was heading towards the empty one next to us. No one sat there; they were all too intimidated by the dangerous, lonely Cullens. Not her.
She pulled out a chair and sat down, placing her designer tote on the chair next to her. Everything she wore was expensive and something you'd see in a Vogue magazine. She and Alice would get along nicely…if they were ever to get along at all.
She didn't have a lunch tray, nor did she get up to get something to eat. Instead, she pulled out a brown paper bag from her tote and placed it on the table gently, hardly making any noise. She ignored everyone else as if we didn't exist. Three seconds later, everything was back to normal.
I turned my head back to my table and glanced at Edward. I saw something unexpected.
Confusion and a hint of frustration.
"Edward?"
"I can't…her mind. It's…selective," he finished lamely. I tilted my head in confusion.
"I can only hear certain things…trivial things like…like, what's in her lunch bag…but nothing else. I know there's more…it's like there's a wall…and I can't get past it. I can only hear what she wouldn't care if anyone heard…the rest is…hidden."
All of our eyes glanced at the new girl, sitting peacefully, eating her way through her lunch.
Who was this girl?
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ELPOV
I felt their eyes on me.
The rest of the cafeteria had since gone back to their normal activities but these people who sat at the table next to me just couldn't stop staring. I knew I was a little better looking than most, but that was no reason to stare. These people must have been used to seeing beautiful people; they were all gorgeous. So then there had to be another reason they were staring at me.
I tried not to get angry, but this was much more attention than necessary. So I did something I hadn't done in months.
I looked up from my pasta and glared. I didn't want to tempt myself too much, so I used an intermediate one. Not as lethal as others I've used in the past, but effective. They took their eyes off of me. Finally.
I rearranged my face to its neutral expression once more and continued to eat. I finished about forty minutes before lunch ended and didn't really know what to do with myself. I had seen this scene in movies billions of times, but lunch was something else at MSA and in the movies, the character always had friends. I didn't.
So I looked around to see what other people were doing. Most were socializing, but I saw that some were doing homework. Good enough, I thought. I pulled my new textbook (I had learned the name for these books during my second period class) toward me, got a fresh, new notebook out and began my homework.
I read the indicated passage and answered the questions. Boring and tedious, and I was already fluent in French. But kids have been doing this for centuries, and I was sure I could do it too.
The bell rang loudly and everyone rose from their chairs, grabbed their belongings, and made their way to their next class. I followed, already seeing a routine taking place. I found I liked that idea. This whole normal high school thing was relaxing. If I stayed away from people, my life would be drama free. The homework was easy, the classes were calm and serene…I think this might actually work.
"Miss Estay," the teacher said in recognition as I walked into the Biology lab. I nodded my head and handed him my slip. He took it, signed it, and returned it.
"You can sit with Edward and Bella," he told me, to which I responded with a blank stare.
"Edward Cullen and Bella Hale, last table on your left," he clarified. I nodded and turned to walk to my new seat. Edward Cullen and Bella Hale were already there, sitting and talking quietly. I felt myself tense. They were at the table I glared at during lunch. Ugh. Maybe they'll forget about it. We can still be civil to each other, or at least I can.
I pulled out my own chair, still a new thing to me, and sat down gently. And they stared again.
I decided to ignore it this time. I acted as if I were the only one at that table, and although it didn't work at all like my glare, they eventually gave up and looked at the teacher as he reached the middle of his directions. We were to do a lab today and I was not excited. All of these kids have learned the material for this class, I hadn't. Hopefully they were smart, because I had no idea what was going on.
"Would you like to go first?" Bella asked kindly, a high, chiming voice. I looked up at her. Her eyes, as well as Edward's, were a golden brown. Hmm. Never seen that before.
"I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for."
"Have you not taken Biology before?" Edward asked, his voice like smooth velvet.
"I'm afraid I haven't." There was a flash of annoyance on his face, and it was gone as soon as it came.
"Well, we can do it, and try to explain it to you as we go along. Sound good?" Bella asked. I nodded, not wanting to talk anymore. There was something about Cullen, Hale, and the rest of their family. They weren't normal. I couldn't really find it in me to care about what exactly it was.
So I treated them politely, and made sure to make Biology the extent of our contact.
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That failed. I found out the next period that they were in my gym class. Well, the females were anyway. I wasn't prepared for gym, which seemed ridiculous to me, so they made me sit out. Apparently, one was to change into sweatpants and a t shirt for this class. The teacher managed to find me an old uniform which I would wear the next day. I sighed as I watched the class play volleyball. Some girls cringed away from the ball while others played and looked to be having a good time. I let my eyes wander to where the Cullens were a few times. Their movements were graceful.
I took this time to observe them. One was tall, statuesque, blond, and the most beautiful of the four. Another was the polar opposite; tiny, inky, spiked hair, and sharp, pixie-like features. The girl I knew as Bella Hale was somewhere in the middle, with long, wavy, mahogany hair. The last one was around Bella's height, and her face was extremely similar to Bella's, but had a mixture of Edward's as well. She had that strange, bronze colored hair. Curly.
But the most peculiar thing about them all was the similarities they all shared. Pale alabaster skin, golden-brown eyes, and grace that rivaled a ballerina's. Their strangeness only further encouraged me to stay away from them. I had a feeling that associating with them could only end in disaster.
The rest of my day passed by in the same fashion. I had no other classes with the Cullens, fortunately. At the end of the day, I made my way over to the main office and handed the lady my slip. She told me her name was Ms. Gatz. I thanked Ms. Gatz, and left to find George leaning against the car, waiting. I smiled and walked over to him, my Louboutins still making a funny sound against the concrete. He opened my door for me as soon as I was close enough. I thanked him with a smile and sat down lithely onto the luxurious, leather seat. George was still driving the Rolls Royce so I made sure to keep my eyes down. The last thing I needed was eye-contact with any of these people.
George promptly returned to his seat and peeled out of the school parking lot. I thought about what to do with myself once I got home; I hadn't gone home right after school in years. What did kids do with themselves after school?
Homework? Was that a safe assumption? I thought so; in my experience, procrastination was never encouraged.
As soon as I got home that day, I began my assignments. I finished within two hours, much shorter than I thought it would take. I didn't know what to do with myself then; I had never had that much free time. I even went downstairs to see if the maids needed help with anything. I received the strangest stares; understandable, considering I had never once voluntarily offered any act of kindness towards them. I then walked into the parlor where the baby grand piano sat. I figured I had time to kill and I hadn't played in a while.
Playing the piano had never relaxed me unlike it did for others. It was usually a source of frustration, especially when I was working with deadlines. I was always proud of my compositions in the end, but the amount of time and work that had to be put into them seemed unnecessary to me. I didn't care much for the actual composition; I cared about the visual aspect of the entire final product. The visual would be created around the music, of course, but the visual was what I loved.
I sat down and stretched my fingers. I warmed up with a few arpeggios, major scales, Happy Birthday, and Chopsticks before I started playing a few of my favorites. Beethoven, Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Debussy…their tunes filled the room for the next two hours before I called it quits. My fingers were starting to cramp and I needed to get ready for dinner anyway.
Dinner was a formal affair in my family. So old and traditional, but so were the rest of the families where I came from. Nice slacks and a buttoned, collared shirt would do nicely, but I bet normal teenagers were allowed to wear pajamas to dinner if they wished. They didn't know how good they had it.
I got ready quickly and returned downstairs to find my father lounging in the living room with a newspaper in hand. I nodded to him in greeting and walked to the built-in bookshelf all along the west wall. I selected a classic, Sense and Sensibility, and sat down to read. I quickly became immersed and just barely noticed when Elizabeth walked into the room and announced that dinner was being served. I snapped my book shut as quietly as possible and followed my father as he walked into the dining room. He sat at the head of the table and I three chairs down from him, in my usual seat. The further away I was, the better.
"How was your first day, Eleanor?" he asked. I shrugged.
"It went as well as could be expected, I suppose. My teachers seemed decent enough and the students were more than willing to help me find my way."
Maybe that was stretching the truth a bit, but I didn't lie directly. I didn't tell him that I refused any sort of help that was offered; his assumptions were his own business.
"Did you make any sort of…friends?" he asked warily. I nearly frowned. He only cared because bad influences would prove that history does indeed repeat itself.
"No."
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That was the first night.
It started when I noticed him drinking much more wine at dinner than he normally would, not that he normally drank on a Friday night. I stopped counting after the fourth glass. I excused myself from the table as soon as I took my last bite. The amount of alcohol he had consumed was disconcerting and I did not want to be around to witness my father drunk. I locked myself in my room and continued to read, trying to block the sounds of his boisterous laughter. The louder it got, the more anxious I became. Before long, I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and towards my room. If he had cared at all my entire life, I might not have been so afraid, but my father's room is on the opposite side of the house and he had never once come to check on me.
So it was no surprise I flinched horribly when he pounded on my bedroom door.
Trembling, I stood up and went over to answer it. All I registered was the strong stench of alcohol before he grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and dragged me to the center of the room.
"You filthy little murderer," he slurred right before slapping me across the face. Tears sprang to my eyes at the awful sting currently in my right cheek. I brought my hand up to my face, but before I could even reach it, he had grabbed me again by the elbow and thrown me against the bottom right post of my bed. My entire left side slammed against the thick post and I cried out. There was no more feeling in my left arm.
"You slut…how dare you…ruined my life," he murmured drunkenly before he grabs me by my hair. I felt a few strands get pulled out and I whimper. The last thing I feel is an agonizing blow to my head, and then everything is black.
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2:09 a.m.
The red letters seem to be glaring at me. I wasn't even sure how long it took me to get into this position, but the bright light of my room and the alarm clock make my splitting head ache ten times worse. I manage to sit up against my bed and take deep, heaving breaths. I wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep for the rest of my life, but I was bleeding and I severely needed to clean myself up. Using my bed for leverage, I try to lift myself up.
Nothing.
After about seven tries, I finally manage to stand, leaning against my bed. My head is pounding, but I wouldn't have time in the morning to clean myself off and get to school on time. I stumbled into my private bathroom and kneeled down on the floor, looking for the first aid kit in the cabinet under the sink. I found it and quickly treated the wound on my head. Fortunately, it was mild and could be easily concealed with make-up and my bangs. There were indeed finger-shaped bruises on my arms, but it was winter, I would be wearing long sleeves anyway.
When I went back into my room, I noticed there was a blood-stain on my white carpet. I groaned and realized I would have to ask Elizabeth in the morning to clean it up. Awkward as it was, I realized, Elizabeth was well-trained. She wouldn't ask anything.
I went to sleep that night afraid of possible nightmares.
But I don't dream anymore.
A/N: So uh...don't kill me too bad for posting a 'New Story' before updating Dirty Dancing. But seriously...
This plot won't leave my effing head =/ Using up all my creative juices...DAMN THIS STORY!
Anyway, about DD...Well, for the last few months of school, I was very, very busy...ridiculously busy. Too busy for my liking. But anyway, I hadn't been able to even look at Dirty Dancing.
And then the worst happened.
I'm retarded and didn't save my shit on a stupid external hard drive...I think you know where this is going. Basically, Computer Virus= Lost everything. So I had to start chapter eleven from scratch, and RYHO as well. Which really fucking pissed me the FUCK off because I was almost done with the first chapter of RYHO and now I can't remember shit. And what's worse with DD? Serious case of writer's block&&a raging case of 'Needing to regroup' because I was finally able to really look at it sometime last week, and I only have a vague idea of where I want the story to go. Chapter eleven was a little important, so I really need to get back into that and start thinking again. So unfortunately...I'll have to postpone that even more...consider this my official notice of a HIATUS on that story, but maybe not this one.
About this one...you'll notice that in this chapter, it's not so directly Twilight, but I assure you, as the story progresses, it becomes so. No, this is not a romantic story. Eleanor isn't a homewrecker...she's classier than that. I'll change a few things, but for the most part, this will stay true to the story. And in case any of you were wondering, this takes place about seventy-eighty years after Breaking Dawn. The Cullens have moved back to Forks for the third time, and Eleanor...well, you'll see...if I decide to continue this story.
Which reminds me.
REVIEW! I need serious feedback on this story. Its status will be 'Complete' for now. I want to see if I get enough encouraging reviews.
Phew! That was a mouthful. So anyway...review? Please? Sneak Peak of DD Chapter Eleven if you do!
Mm, yeah, I went there.
