IMPORTANT A/N

I am a 19-year-old Pre-Nursing student, going to school full-time, and working three part-time jobs on the side. I'm sorry that I suck at updating, but education is important, therefore I have to go to college. College is expensive, therefore I have to go to work. Work takes up much of my time, therefore… you get the point. As much as I love writing, more important things hold my attention at the moment. I appreciate the constructive criticism, the positive and negative feedback, ALL reviews, ALL favorites, and ALL follows. Stick with me, please. I have much planned for this story.

Love you all!

Izobella

CHAPTER 1

"The beginning is always the hardest." I told the people staring at me. "They always tell you 'No clichés. Nothing too extravagant, but nothing too bland; you want to catch the reader's attention. You want them to read what you've written. Don't start with a question, and never use I, me, or my.' But weren't the rules made to be broken?"

The tearing of paper from a notebook could be heard where I was standing, but I just kept my face in my paper.

"We've all cheated and lied. I cheated on my spelling test in third grade, and almost got caught. But I lied to get out of it." A giggle. "We wear white after Labor Day and we make jokes about things that ought not to be made fun of. And, although most of you would never admit it, I know, for a fact, that at least half of you have played with fire." My eyes flickered above my paper just a moment before searching for where I left off. "I used a calculator on my homework in sixth grade, even after my teacher told me not to, and I changed my answers in class when she called them out to get a better grade." A sigh.

"In sixth grade, I stole a cookie from my friend's lunchbox, but told her that someone else did it. I wrote answers to a test, that I didn't have time to study for, on my arm in seventh grade. I've broken many rules and told many lies, but that doesn't make me a bad person, that makes me hum-"

Ring!

Everyone rose from their seats in front of me and I relaxed my shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief. I hated speeches.

"Don't forget that everyone with the last names R to Z will finish presenting Monday. Take the time this weekend to study your presentations, maybe improve what you already have. Be safe, don't talk to strangers, say no to drugs. Dig it?" Mr. Walker asked the class.

"Dug it!" Everyone hollered as they left the room.

"Your speech sounds wonderful so far Miss Swan. The beginning caught my attention right away, as always." Mr. Walker smiled. "Your parents will be proud when I tell them about it tonight. We're still on for dinner, of course?"

"Yes, Mr. Walker. Mymother and Iwill see you tonight." I spoke with emphasis and started to pack my belongings into my bag.

"Oh, yes, of course." he mumbled, turning away from me with guilt in his eyes.

I pulled into the driveway in my clunking truck, noticing how haphazardly my mother had parked her car today. My brow furrowed.

She was always careful about that, always complaining about others who "can't park".

I tripped over the threshold into the front hall and rolled my eyes at myself.

Only me, I thought.

My bag created a loud thump when it hit the floor, and I cringed as it echoed through the house. I paused on the way to the kitchen, kissing the framed picture of my father, and staring into his paper eyes.

"I miss you, daddy. So does momma." Charlie looked back at me, smiling. And I smiled back for a moment, wiping at my watery eyes, before continuing into the kitchen.

It had only been three months since he had died, and I was still having a hard time getting used to his absence.

They say that the mind blocks out painful occurrences, and I guess that's what happened to me. Because when the officer came to our door with Charlie's hat and the news of his passing, all I could remember the next day was... well, I couldn't. When I awoke in my bed, a large bump on the back of my head throbbing, Renee explained that I fainted. I couldn't remember why.

I had passed out again when she told me.

Renee tended to me all day, never letting on how she felt about the whole situation. She had stared at me with empty eyes, and caressed my face whenever I cried. But she never showed any emotion whatsoever.

Weeks passed, but she still never left her numb state. She couldn't escape the pain the way I could; I had the woods behind my house, my room, even school and work. She had none of that. She hadn't had a job before he died, and she was even more unwilling to work after he passed. Her room was a constant reminder of her dead husband.

She couldn't even look atme.

"You look so much like your father." she would say monotonously, before quickly leaving the room.

I heard her at night, whimpering quietly, as I lay outside her door. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew that she needed time to be by herself. Sometimes I wanted comfort as well, but it was hard for her to be around me, to look at me.

I wouldn't begrudge her that.

A sudden bark brought me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see Jacob running down the stairs toward me. His tongue hung out of his mouth as he smiled at me, jumping up and putting his paws on my shoulders.

"Hi baby boy." I smiled, and leant up to peck along his furry snout. He huffed in pleasure, his tail swinging back and forth wildly. He might have been tiny and malnourished when we found him behindNewton's almost a year ago, but he is over half my height on all fours now.

I patted his head once more before he jumped off of me, running toward the kitchen to get his dinner. His hip hit the wall and a picture frame almost fell to the floor. Rolling my eyes, I followed after him.

As Jacob ate, I stared around the kitchen, nibbling on my thumb nail. Something didn't seem right. The bright yellow walls screamed at me, and I squinted my eyes at them.

After my father had died, my mom had repainted the kitchen. The god-awful yellow color was supposed to make us feel lighter.

It only succeeded in making me want to puke.

It took me a moment to realize where the uneasiness was coming from; Renee hadn't come to greet me like she always did when I got home. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my irritated stomach, and turned toward the hallway. With slow steps, I made my way toward the bottom of the steps and took a deep breath.

"Hey mom? I'm home!" I holler up the stairs. No reply. My heart beat faster.

I shouldn't go up there... Something is wrong.

I knew she was there though. Her car was out front.

She's just sleeping is all. That's all...

My feet moved faster the closer I got to her door, until I was running. But I froze when I reached her door, my hand on the doorknob.

I heard her mumbling incoherently to herself in her room, and my shoulders sagged in relief. But that relief was short-lived when I heard a familiar click.

I'd heard that click before.

Charlie wrapped his arms around me after watching me struggle with the gun for at least a minute or two. His strong hands pulled back on the gun, cocking it quickly. Click.

I'd heard that click before.

I smiled up at my daddy before staring straight ahead at the target, placing my finger gently on the trigger.

"Remember, not too much pressure. You need to be able to hold your arms still, and hope you don't break your nose. I don't need another trip to the emergency room, Bells." my father chuckled, and I heard my mother giggle. I shot her a glare over my shoulder, and she held her hands up in surrender.

"Mama, NO!" I screamed, but the words came out as a grunt as I wiggled the locked door handle. Silence met my plea.

"Pull the trigger sweetie." My dad whispered in my ear. I took a deep breath, welcoming the silence that suddenly enveloped me. My finger slowly tightened on the trigger.

BANG!

A loud thud sounded in the room I was facing and...

Silence.

Frozen.

Nothing.

And then everything.

A shrill ringing echoed in my mind as I backed away from the door. My body seemed out of my control as I repeatedly flung myself into the door. When the weak wood cracked, my body fell through the doorway, the rough edges of the broken wood cutting up my face and arms. But I didn't notice. I just noticed the blood. The deep, red blood. So much blood.

So much blood.

I sit up quickly, the thin blanket falling from my torso. Goosebumps cover my skin as I try to control my rapid breathing. My hand flies to my brow, pressing down to reduce the ache there.

A groan comes from the girl next to me, and her cot squeaks as she turns over.

"Do you ever sleep through the night, Swan?" she grumbles. I roll my eyes and slowly make my way out into the hallway. I glare into the bright light on the ceiling.

You try dealing with these nightmares every night.

I sigh, my feet squeaking softly on the clean wood floors. Linda looks up at me as I approach the table in the hall and I see her worriedly glance at Dr. Tibur's office before smiling brightly at me.

"Bathroom, hon?" Her soft voice echoes in the bright, empty room. I look over at the windows, noticing how dark it is outside, and nod silently. She's smiling sadly at me when I look back at her. She stands from her seat and unclips her keys from her belt loop. The silver metal clinks loudly as she moves toward the bathroom door.

I follow quietly behind her. As we pass Dr. Tibur's office, I hear his muffled voice rising and falling in volume. There is no response that I can hear, so I assume he's on the phone. After Linda unlocks the door and searches the bathroom for anything suspicious, I smile at her softly and make my way slowly into the bright white room.

The shower curtain flutters when the heavy door shuts behind me. I open it like I always do, and relax a small amount when I see the shower stall is empty. I slowly drag my feet toward the toilet and squat above the seat, not trusting that the cleaning crew washed away all that there was on the toilet seat.

After finishing my much needed business, I step over to the automatic sink and wash my hands carefully, scrubbing under my barely-there fingernails. The cold water soothes my weak fingers, so I gather a small amount to rub on my face. I rub the scar that stretches from my forehead, cutting my eyebrow in half, and stare at the person before me.

I watch the drops of water roll slowly down my face, dropping off of my chin, onto my continuously growing breasts. I glare at them as they move up and down with my breath, and then sigh when I realize that hating my growing body won't change anything. Nothing will change now. I won't kill her. I can't.

My hands move down my body, resting on my breasts, then slowly continuing down to my protruding stomach. I turn to the side and notice that it seems to have grown overnight. I poke my hardening belly button and feel a small nudge back. I smile and run my hands around my stomach.

"I know, sweetie." I mumble to my stomach. "I love you too."