Hiya my wonderful readers. Here is the first chapter of a new little story I've been working on. For those of you who have read It's a Cruel World, I will be posting a sequel but not right now. I have recently moved house and all of the notes I had on that story got lost in the move :(

As always let me know what you think.


Disclaimer: I do not and will not own twilight or its affiliated characters.


Runaway in Suburbia.

As the last few lingering notes of The Taste of Ink faded away, I sighed and selected a different track on my iPod then went back to picking away at the chipped black polish on my finger nails. I sucked my lip ring back between my teeth and nibbled on the surrounding skin. It felt like I had been in the back of this police cruiser for an age.

Staring out of the window, the city limits slowly thinned and neat manicured lawns with rows upon rows of identical houses began to appear. I sunk down lower in the seat, as low as I could go without strangling myself with the seatbelt. A group of middle aged women stood on the side walk trading tupperware boxes. All of them dressed in bright gaudy summer dresses and white sandals. It was like a nightmare scene from The Stepford Wives.

I shuddered to myself and glanced out of the other window.

That was a mistake.

A group of teenage girls, no older than myself, were strutting along in ridiculously high heels, short pleated skirts and cashmere sweaters. They were giggling to themselves and flipping their long hair over their shoulders. I bit back the bile rising in my throat.

The car eventually stopped outside of a large white house with a neat little lawn edged with rose bushes and a low white picket fence. It was like Barbie's dream house without all of the pink. It was sickening. The two officers in the front seats got out of the car and made their way up the neatly paved pathway. Everything here was all so tidy. All of the bushes were trimmed back. All of the flowerbeds were well maintained. Heaven forbid there actually be a weed on the lawn.

The officers knocked on the door and waited for an answer. It wasn't long before a medium built woman in a grey and white maid uniform opened the door to the two men. She stepped aside and let the officers in. A few moments later a young woman about my mothers age opened the door and followed the two men back to the car I was still sat in. She held a sad smile on her face, probably only just filled in on my sorry ass tale. Thankfully she hadn't noticed me slouched down on the back seat yet so that gave me a chance to really look at her properly.

She was slight of build, with wavy caramel coloured hair that fell to the middle of her back. She was wearing a pair of tan pants with a pale yellow blouse and grey pumps. She held herself with a relaxed, casual elegance. Not what I had expected at all. I had braced myself for another Stepford Wife type of woman in a floaty summer dress, instead she was the Martha Stewart of suburban housewives.

She paused at the edge of her pretty little garden and began to talk to the nearest cop. It didn't escape my notice that she gave the cruiser a sidelong glance. It didn't surprise me that she didn't spot me in the back seat. I was so low in the chair that my eyes were level with the base of the window.

I was so engrossed watching the woman on the sidewalk, that I failed to notice the police officer she was not engaged in conversation with open my door. I jumped and scrambled to right myself before I toppled out of the car onto my ass. I shoved my iPod into my hoodie pocket and reached for my rucksack that held the small amount of clothing and possessions I owned. I gasped out as the sudden change of angle put pressure on my broken ribs. I bit back my cry and awkwardly struggled out of the vehicle.

The woman gasped as she took in my appearance. Torn jeans, baggy threadbare hoodie and scuffed up Doc Martens. I looked like a rebel from the nineties. I didn't care. It was comfortable and I loved it. She stepped forward and made to hug me but stopped at my visible flinch away from her.

"She's all yours now ma'am." The first officer spoke while the second pulled my guitar from the trunk. He deposited it on the sidewalk beside me then both men got back into their cruiser and drove off.

The woman seemed to struggle with herself before finally opening her mouth to speak. "Hello Bella, my name is Esme Cullen. My husband Carlisle and I are your godparents. I guess you don't remember me, hmm? Well it has been twelve years, so I'm not surprised. Come on inside, I will get Heidi to fix you something to eat." She turned and began to walk back up her front lawn.

With a resigned sigh, I grabbed the strap to my guitar case and followed behind her. The maid from before was standing just inside the front door and snatched my belongings from my hands as soon as I stepped foot into the building. I snatched them back and we were engaged in a power struggle with my poor rucksack bearing the brunt between us. With a sickening rip my belongings flew into the air and scattered across the floor. I fell to my battered knees and scrambled around trying to pick it all up. Heat rushed to my face in embarrassment at the fact that all I own was on display for these women to see.

Esme began yelling at the maid in some foreign language, Italian I think. Another maid came running into foyer, as the sound of the argument travelled throughout the house.

I didn't like it.

Leaving the scattered items on the floor, I grabbed my guitar and bolted out of the still open front door.

I ran and ran. Not knowing the area very well, I soon got lost but that didn't stop me. I still carried on running.

Eventually I stopped outside of a small cafe to give my poor ribs a rest. My breath was coming in heavy pants and I had blood running down my shins from my scabbed knees. I peered through the window of the small coffee shop and had to do a double take. Esme was sitting at a table in a different outfit with a teenage boy about my age. They were laughing and conversing passionately with each other over milkshakes.

Is Esme having an affair with a teenage toyboy?

Didn't she say she was married to Kevin? Carl? Carlisle! That was it!

Esme must of gotten a phone call because she picked up her cell phone and a look of concern crossed her face. She said something to the boy and they both got up to leave after chucking some money down on the table. I darted around the side of the building as they emerged from the cafe. I could hear their voices clearly as they made their way to a large SUV parked across the road.

"Edward dear, Esme said that she only left about fifteen minutes ago, so she couldn't of gotten very far."

Esme talks about herself in the third person?

"Mom, what does she look like?" The lad asked.

"Esme said that she is very thin, almost anorexic." I looked down at myself. Sure I was very skinny but it's not like I'm sick or anything. "She has long brown hair and is wearing incredibly tatty clothing." The Esme clone replied.

"So who is this Bella chick anyway?" Edward spoke once more. I didn't hear the reply as they both had shut their car doors. I stayed hidden until the rumble of the engine indicated that they had driven off.

So Esme has put a BOLO call out on me and her clone and her toyboy are on the hunt.

I slunk back down the alley between the coffee shop and bookstore and run down the road behind them.

Once again I was a runaway in suburbia.


Well what did you think? Shall I continue? As always let me know what you think :)

Much love x