Every teenager goes through a rebellious stage. There's a pretty wide spectrum to measure the level of rebellion and I guess I was towards the higher end but that was no excuse for what they did to me. Is coloring my hair purple, building up a wardrobe of strictly black articles of clothing, sneaking out of my room at night, skipping classes, and maybe getting in trouble with the cops once or twice really a reason to send me away? Not in my opinion but apparently my mother thought otherwise. She didn't think she could handle me anymore and used the oldest parenting lines in the book, telling me I was disappointing her and that she only wanted what was best for me. Well, to her what was best for me was sending me away to live in a home for troubled teens. I was a troubled teen? Try a normal one. Not like the rest of the freaks in that place.
I arrived at Shea House nearly three months ago. It was located in the small town of Forks, Washington- conveniently the hometown of my father. It was clear that my mom wasn't going to be taking me back home in Phoenix anytime soon. Once they decided I was allowed to rejoin society I would be moving in with my dad and starting a whole new life there.
Shea House was a renovated warehouse. All of our rooms were identical; a twin size bed with light blue bedding, a wardrobe that doubled as the closet and the dresser, a small desk that was nailed to the wall, and a single window that couldn't be opened and gave the grand view of either the alley behind the building or the concrete slab it called its front yard. It was more like a prison than the "home" they wanted us to call it. There were two classrooms where we had our lessons, a few offices for our counseling sessions, a kitchen we weren't allowed in, a dining room, and a library. There was no living room, no big screen TV, no video games, none of that. Everything that you would expect in a home catering to teens was basically taken away. There was a basketball hoop nailed to the side of the building where the parking lot was that we could use during our mandatory recreational time but that was about it.
The first thing they did with me there was color my hair back to its natural brown. When I tried to fight them off, because purple was a good color on me, they threatened to shave it off instead. I saw the clippers. After that I settled down and let them do it. They didn't even warn me about the cut though; all of a sudden scissors were just coming at me and chopping up my hair. It had been really long, reaching almost completely down my back. Now it just reached my shoulder blades. I liked it. I'd never admit it.
To put it in a nut shell, Shea House was my hell. They sought to do everything they could to stomp out our individuality and wipe us clean before letting us out. Sometimes I felt like I was being brainwashed. In fact, I told my therapists that but they said that everyone thinks that before crossing the bridge back to being a model citizen. I told them they were crazy. I realized quickly that wasn't the way to get what I wanted and what I wanted was to get the hell out of there. I couldn't tell these people that I didn't belong here or they would keep me longer. I also couldn't fake it because honestly I was the worst actress that ever lived. It's why I had gotten caught so many times before I wound up there. I had to go through the motions and try to figure out what exactly they wanted so that they would release me.
That's where Alice comes in. She was my savior in this place. I had only been there a week when this tiny girl with pixie like hair came in for a group counseling session. She had been one of the troubled teens here almost two years ago and now she came back to tell her story and help out the people who were going through it now since she had been there. After her parents had died she had gotten into a lot of trouble and that's how she ended up there. Since then she was adopted by a local doctor and his wife who took in a lot of kids for various reasons. After her first visit she sought me out and we talked for hours in my little cubicle room. She told me she really didn't think I deserved to be there and basically handed me over a roadmap of how to act, when to turn corners in my "development", and when to fake relapses. I pulled it off better than I could have ever imagined. I guess I had never wanted something so bad in my life.
Alice was the reason I had gotten my release papers and was signing them so they'd be ready for my dad in the morning. Three months in this place and I was finally going to be free.
I'm Bella Swan and as of tomorrow I am reentering society.
A/N: It's a pretty brief intro so the chapters will be longer from here on out. This is alternate universe, all human, canon pairings. If you aren't open to any of that then I suggest you stop reading this now and find some things that you will enjoy. If you like it then please let me know (: