Chapter 1

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, and as she took a side glance in an attempt to make out her pursuers she stumbled once again on the root woven ground. Her mother's necklace pulled her down as if there was a heavy weight attached to it, instead of the small, ruby-encrusted locket. The lightless sky made it even harder for her to find her way through the mass of trees, slowing her escape further as they effortlessly closed in on her. Breathing harder, she could take the weight of the locket no more and collapsed onto the cold ground, a chill travelling up her spine as she heard the heavy footsteps of her end approaching.

Bella sat up and immediately grasped a-hold of her necklace, which was hung around her neck (as always) and saw what had awoken her this time – Ivan's cat had managed to get it's paw stuck in her patchwork quilt and was tugging at it trying to free itself. Ivan, Bella cringed, was Lucinda and Dominique Fawlen's son. Bella's brother through adoption. He was a tall, sturdy boy and had a head shaped rather like a basketball. He wore glasses, had beady, mud-coloured eyes, which were (to Bella's constant amusement) half hidden by bushy eyebrows that threatened to completely smother them. His nose was freckly, his cheeks puffy and he had more spots decorating his face than the dot-to-dot colouring books that he still played with (even though he was almost 18). Mrs Fawlen (Lucinda) on the other hand was very different to her son. She was slender and very average looking, although Bella had always thought she wore the look of someone who had a bad smell floating non-stop under their nose. She too, owned beady mud coloured eyes, but had high cheekbones which stuck out dangerously when she smiled, which luckily, was remarkable rare. Mr Fawlen was again very different to both his wife and son. He was frighteningly tall, muscular and owned a rather handsome face. Which at times led Bella to think he could have done better than his know it all wife and bully of a son. However, that was until Mr Fawlen opened his mouth, spoke his disgusting thoughts about everyone else in world (his family were not exempt to his nasty bitching), and then Bella realised the whole family suited one another perfectly.

Although Bella's adopted parents were never cruel to her, they never showed her any sign of love or any feeling at all. It had been made clear from the moment she was able to understand anything, that she had been adopted and that their only real child was Ivan. It was as though she was an occupant in their home and just there like any other object within their large, uncomfortable house - the smallest room in the attic being her bedroom. Ivan, on the other hand, had a different approach to letting Bella know what he thought of her and showed Bella much more feeling than she would have liked. Nasty asides were thrown in her direction at least three times an hour (when possible) about her face, hair, anything really and were accompanied every now and then with a kick showing plainly how Ivan felt about his adopted sister – pure hatred. Because of this, Bella practically lived in her room and it had become a sanctuary for her in times of need and rest (which were all too often in the Fawlen house). She'd also managed to take a discarded chair from one of the unused rooms to barricade her bedroom door from unwanted visitors. Such as Ivan.

He didn't exactly have the best social skills but somehow he had managed to befriend the nastiest (not including Ivan) person in school and when it was time to annoy Bella he was usually accompanied by her. And she was none other than Bella's eternal tormentor - Jessica Reeves. Now Jessica Reeves was one of those girls that you were sure to steer away from if you passed them in the school corridor, her appearance mirroring that of a bird – a very ugly, dangerously evil bird. She had a beak for a nose and thin slits of a mouth, which were barely detectable as she kept them snapped shut in a line across her face, whilst holding a uniquely sour expression. At all times. She spoke in a constant sneer to all those she looked down upon (everyone) and had no friends. Yet had a single ally and a nightmare inducing ally at that – Ivan. Those two combined were enough to make anyone lock themselves in a room, let alone Bella who (to be honest) preferred her own company above anyone else's and especially that of enemy number 1 and 2 (although she had yet to decide which one out of the pair got the number 1 spot).

With a flutter of the eyelashes Bella snapped out of her reverie. Bubbles, the cat, was still pawing at her bed, so after a gentle stroke she released his paw and shoved him out of the way. But as she did a bead of sweat fell from Bella's forehead onto the hand which still held her necklace. Collapsing back into the comfort of her blankets Bella wiped her face and released the necklace. Why! She thought, going over the details of the dream that had tormented her for as long as she could remember. Lately the dreams were growing so strong that they almost caught her. Bella had had that dream since as long as she could remember. But only in the past week had her followers been in the same place as her, at the same time as her and in the one place she never wanted to be. She had always known in her dream that they were searching for her, like some sort of sixth sense where she could feel them tracing her every move, but now they were so close to catching her that Bella's pursuers were turning the dream into a terrifying nightmare. Sighing Bella closed her eyes, and wished she had someone to talk to, a friend maybe or simply someone who would listen. Just to get the dream off her chest. And although Bella preferred her own company, she had always wished to belong in a world, instead of one where she seemed to be on the outside looking in, a visitor in a place that she could never call home.

Rolling onto her side Bella peered reluctantly at her alarm clock. She groaned loudly. It was 7. Time to get up she thought miserably, covering her mouth with the back of her hand in a failed attempt at stifling her yawn which made her eyes water. Bella's nightmares left her feeling as if she hadn't slept and so was exhausted before her day had even begun. She pushed her covers aside and felt a shiver ripple down her spine as she clambered out of bed and took the single step toward the tiny window. Bella pulled the curtain aside lazily and let the light of day-break fall on her room. It was a beautiful day. Her bedroom was tiny with about enough space to take two steps in all directions. Her bed was placed between her door and window, while her wardrobe was next to the window on the wall facing Bella's bed. All over her walls she had posters of her favourite bands which she had managed to get from left over magazines that Mrs Fawlen had read, with a desk in the corner of her room next to her brown door. On top of the desk laid Bella's most treasured possessions; her CD's, the many second hand books she had bought (which had taken months and months of saving for her to buy), and her school books piled messily all over the left side of the desk. Bella may not have been able to call the house home, but in the room where she practically lived, when listening to her music and reading one of her favourite books, she could almost call the tiny space her makeshift home.

Staring out of her window Bella's eyes were on Sand Wood forest where all of her nightmares had taken place. Ever since she had been forced to go and live with her adopted "family", Bella had been terrified of the very sight of the forest, although she would never admit it, because Bella Hadlow would never give anything about herself away. Mr and Mrs Fawlen however were not stupid (not very stupid) and it wasn't that hard to tell what Bella's worst fear was, seen as whenever you mentioned the word forest her head shot in the direction of the Sand Wood forest and her whole body shook compulsively. Saying the word over and over again became Ivan's favourite game after he realised this, which took him a while because he was very stupid, and before he simply thought that the thing he called an adopted sister or the weirdo that lived in his attic, was a freak that liked to shake a lot. Bella didn't know what it was that scared her about that particular place, but the way it rejected light and the feeling that it was dead somehow, although she knew life must be in there (after all trees were living), she was sure had something to do with it.

Today on a very rare occasion, Bella found that the forest was not as scary to her as it usually was. The darkness had melted from it as the light reflected off the snowy ground, and the forest didn't seem quite as menacing with snow layered on top of every tree forming a delicate blanket over it, as if it were keeping Sand Wood forest warm. Christmas soon, Bella thought grudgingly, the snow reminded her. She didn't like holidays or any type of celebration, they were for families or people you cared deeply about, exchanging gifts that represented the love you felt for one another. Bella had never been given a gift and had only ever given three, a toy car to Ivan, a pair of socks to Mr Fawlen and a tea pot to Mrs Fawlen, all of which she had spent her only ever pocket money on. Bella had been six years old when she had given them. Never being given a present herself, she assumed that she wasn't old enough to get presents, and so she was overjoyed at being able to give presents of her own. Bella however, was devastated when she found them in the bin the following day. She hadn't bothered with buying presents for them since. As Bella had stared into the bin with tears threatening to stream down her face, it was the first time she truly longed for her mum and dad, the first time she understood what she didn't have and the moment when she knew that she could never call the people she lived with a family.

Bella's family had been destroyed before she even knew she had one. She had never known her parents, Rosa and Luke Hadlow; because they had died before she could remember them. A simple locket, within which a single photograph lay, a pair of Pointe shoes and her father's journal was all she had to treasure the parents that she never knew. However, seen as Bella had never been able to take dance classes, she could only look at the shoes adoringly, too terrified to try them on, and the key was never found to her father's journal, so the only real thing Bella had as a reminder of her parents was the locket which she cherished above all else and never, ever, ever took off. Looking at the photograph in the locket it was clear that Bella was her mother's daughter, she was fair with eyes where the colour could not be truly defined. They looked like a beautiful green from afar, but as you got closer you could see the blue and red colours that twisted themselves among others to form the unnameable colour that was truly her own. Her skin didn't need make-up and her cheeks glowed a slight pink. However, Bella had her father's hair colour, a dark brown that shone in the sun, it was wavy and could never quite be tamed but suited her perfectly - no matter how much she inwardly disliked it.

Bella opened her locket as her thoughts turned to her mother and father, like they did frequently, and gazed longingly at her family, her as a baby in her mother's arms whilst her father smiled handsomely at the camera.

"I love you." She whispered, a tear in her eye.

Walking away from her window, Bella opened the door and waited for Ivan's cat Darcy to vacate her room before leaving. As Darcy, the jet black and extremely fluffy cat strutted out of her room, she spotted the date on her calendar. One month to go before I'm 17 years old she thought with no anticipation at all. Her birthday was just another day where Bella would be ignored and the Fawlen family would most likely not even know it was her birthday. Bella only knew because she had found her birth certificate screwed up in a box with her name on it, as well as Trash written in Bold, when she was 7 years old. She also found her parent's belongings in the box and before that she had been told her age every year, but as Bella was only a little girl then she didn't really keep track of her age anyway. As Bella closed the door behind her and Darcy, she didn't see the curtains open themselves, her bed make itself, or the cross that suddenly appeared on her calendar counting down the remaining days until her 17th Birthday.

Bella walked down the cramped attic stairs and along the second floor corridor, spare room one, spare room two, spare room three, Ivan's room, bathroom, Mr and Mrs Fawlen's room ... Damn! She thought as she hit her foot on the cabinet that was, in her opinion, very ill placed, before limping slightly down the stairs. The Fawlen's house was very large, perfectly tidy, freezing cold and in no way Bella's home. Living room, sitting room, dining room, bathroom, play room, kitchen, she thought with a sigh as she walked past the numerous doors that lead off the large unfriendly hallway. She pushed open the white door directly in front of her and stepped down into the kitchen.

"Ten past 7. Such a lazy girl. Now, what have I told you Bella. Ivan needs his breakfast at half past. It is essential that he eats at the same time every day to keep his metabolism working correctly. You are already running late. For goodness sake child what is the matter with you?" Mrs Fawlen moaned at Bella, shooing her in the direction of the stove.

"I'm sorry, I ..." stuttered Bella.

"Just get on with it." Mrs Fawlen interrupted sharply. "Oh, and don't forget that Dominique has already gone to work, so you don't need to put on that extra porridge, he was in such a rush when he left this morning. Shame you weren't thoughtful enough to get up early for him and make him breakfast, but there you are. Not everyone is blessed with manners as outstanding as Ivan's. What a lovely child he is ..."

Bella blocked out the rest of Mrs Fawlen's speech. She knew roughly what it would sound like, Ivan this and Ivan that. You'd think he was perfect.

"...and so handsome, Mrs Frost even said so last week. Don't burn it!" She screeched.

"I know." Replied Bella curtly. Every day Mrs Fawlen would say the same thing when the porridge started to smoke, or when the bacon started to sizzle, but she had never (as far as Bella knew) cooked in her life, so she actually had no idea whether the breakfast or dinner for that matter was burning or not.

BANG! Ivan came hurtling through the door, and Mrs Fawlen laughed at her 'boisterous' son - Bella cringed internally.

"Morning mother," he said emphasising the fact that Mrs Fawlen was his mum and reminding Bella that she didn't have one, "where's my breakfast?" He added with a brat like tone seeping through his voice.

"Morning darling, she is just dishing it up," replied Mrs Fawlen, catching the look on her sons face she added, "don't worry she knows to be on time tomorrow."

Bella rolled her eyes and handed Ivan his breakfast and a cup of tea to Mrs Fawlen. She grabbed her own toast, and after dodging a kick from her beloved brother, walked out of the room. Back in her bedroom she put on her school uniform, a plain grey skirt with a navy jumper and blazer, before putting her favourite music in Ivan's old CD player and lying back on her beautifully made bed. Humming along to the music Bella twiddled her necklace between her fingers, did I make my bed? She suddenly thought, the fact that it was perfectly tidy finally dawning on her. Must have,she decided knowing that no one else would have made it. She sat there daydreaming about escaping from the house, thinking of replies to questions she would be asked by passers-by as she fled the cage she was forced to live in. This had been a frequent daydream of Bella's for as long as she could remember, but as she got older it had turned into a thought out plan, rather than just a little's girls stupid dream, like being a princess when they grow up. Bella jumped out of her reverie and sat up as she heard a drawn out scream from bellow her, it sounded like a screeching cat that was either being strangle or tortured. I bet that stupid brat didn't get his way for something again and now the whole entire world will have to suffer like always from his screaming and crying and winging ... Ivan screamed again.

"Shut Up!" Bella spoke the words as though she was an angry parent about to explode through exasperation, her voice was calm but full of authority. Wow, she thought as the screaming stopped, that was weird. She sank back onto her bed trying to listen to her music once again before...

"Oh my ... my ... goodness, my b ... baby boy, what is it? What's h ... happened? Darling speak to me? What is it?" Screamed Mrs Fawlen in a much better imitation of a screeching cat.

Bella, sick of all the noise, got off her bed and switched off her CD player, pushing the off button so hard that her entire desk shook. She stormed out of her room and down the stairs to where all the racket was coming from. Ivan was mouthing numerous words at Mrs Fawlen, who was screaming uncontrollably, but no sound was coming out of his mouth, it was like someone had pressed a mute button. Bella burst into a fit of giggles at the sight, but too concerned to notice her, Mrs Fawlen continued to scream at Ivan to talk to her. Bet he's putting this on, she thought after managing to control herself and work herself back into her former irritated state, she was helped by a headache she felt forming from the constant screaming and Ivan's pathetic, childish games.

"Will you just talk already?" Bella shouted over Mrs Fawlen's voice after fifteen minutes of the idiocy had passed.

"I can't," Ivan finally said with a look of utter amazement on his face at being able to talk again, "that's better." He said, words failing him completely, his face the picture of surprise.

Knew he was faking it, Bella thought smugly, but still annoyed. Mrs Fawlen thought that her son had been temporarily cursed, and kept flicking her eyes towards Bella as if she had caused his temporary silence, it never occurred to her once that her precious Ivan darling was faking it. All that time they had wasted on the drama king, meant that Bella hadn't had a chance to sort out her room before she was shoved out of the door, just managing to grab her school bag so that she could get the bus to school. That also meant she didn't have time to think through what had just happened, how what she said seemed to have coincidently controlled her brother or in other words her bully. Need to tidy room, so that's one more chore to add to the never ending list when I get back, she thought as she remembered the previous evening when Mrs Fawlen had spent at least an hour trying to write a colour coded list of all the chores she wanted Bella to do, and not once thinking she could have spent that hour helping with them. At that very moment the bus arrived and Bella clambered onto it with everyone else at her stop.