.01.
I heard the rumble of car engines roll down our quiet road, on the north-western side of the United States in our tiny town of Forks, Washington; that's almost always under a constant cover of cloud.
I lifted my head up from my laptop to see which cars would make that kind of noise, as my truck was a close call as a runner-up to rival theirs.
My window is low, that it could almost be part of my desk, so I had no trouble looking out to see. So imagine my surprise when they stopped outside my childhood home.
My eyebrows rose. Who in all that's unholy could these people be and what could they possibly want from my Dad and I? I say want because I know or have been lead to believe all our family is dead minus my mother who I consider dead to me anyway. But as far as I am aware we don't know anyone who owns enough money to buy those sorts of sporty looking cars which I'd be to scared to drive as I'd more than likely crash it.
The car doors opened. Some opening up like if you'd turn the book sideways and you'd open it up on the side, and others, pushed out then swung upwards from the side not middle, and one normal all blacked out vehicles.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The colour of one of the cars alone would bright up this dull green, brown and grey town. They put the Stanley's pink house to shame. One of the cars is a canary yellow, and the other is a lovely blue. Much more beautiful than the Stanley's home for sure, and trust me when I say I did not find THAT house beautiful or feel envy towards it at all.
In fact, I am surprised I've not seen one of them here now sniffing out the threat of popularity, due to someone with clearly more money than them stomping on their ground.
I watched as one by one got out of their cars and my god, each one of them looked like they have just walked off of a catwalk show. They didn't belong in this town at all, and I could clearly see wrinkled noses and obviously, must be comment's of distaste. I knew if they looked up they'd see me probably gaping like a fish.
Low and behold, as soon as my thought process went down that road, one of them looked up. A boy... no man, dressed in a clearly designer labeled suit looked up. Just my rotten luck right?
And for some reason I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and his eyes seemed to continue to bore into mine.
His startling green eyes stayed locked with my boring brown till he and his family, I think they are family, could no longer see mine and part of me didn't know how to process what just took place. His other... I'm going to call them: family members seemed oblivious to our little, um, what would you call it? Moment? As they entered the house.
Hmmm... That must mean my father either heard them and knew they were coming here or already knew of their arrival. Time, day and why they are here. Why didn't he tell me? I could have been more prepared. I could have made dinner, baked a cake or two.
What was going on? What would a family made for places like Hollywood or Beverley Hills be doing in this run down old town?
I could hear voices downstairs, but refused to budge from the comforts of my computer chairs. Now they are in my house, and I had no clue as to why. I felt uncomfortable. Suddenly raised voices could be heard and my insides jumped out of my body, the little hairs on my arms stood on end.
Never have I ever and I mean ever heard anyone raise their voices to my father. Not even the Stanley's or Mallory's would cross his path.
"ISABELLA." My father raised his voice. Probably knowing I'd heard. My blood ran cold. Charlie hasn't called me Isabella in a very long, long time. Only when I'm in trouble... but what could I have possibly done?
I shook my head, double checked I looked half decent in my black hoody - unzipped, jeans, plain teal t-shirt and dark blue socks that had a little hole in the material of my left foot.
My uncontrollable long wavy hair is a mess as per usual, but there's nothing I could do about that. So I made my way to the living room or kitchen, where ever they were in the house and for the first time the walk felt very long and I couldn't understand why I was suddenly feeling these strange feelings especially since this house was in no way large at all or had long corridors.
When I finally made it down the stairs, not daring to look to the left, to see if all those catwalk people were in my living room, I only looked up when I got to the bottom, and my eyes widened upon what I see.
My father. MY FATHER the Police Chief of Forks, Washington has a fucking - excuse my french - GUN pointed to his head. Several in fact.
"CARLISLE, EDWARD! Put those things away now. You are frightening her."
I suddenly felt a woman's arms wrap around me and felt myself stiffen in reaction, having never had that before, in a motherly way and she instantly backed away. Did I flinch? I watched my father's eyes close.
"Swan..." The blonde man hissed. Neither of the men listened to the woman, who told them to put their guns away.
Now don't get me wrong. My father's not a bad one... has no clue how to raise a daughter mind but at least he didn't abandon me, us like my mother did.
I allowed myself to drift around my living room. A long haired brunette with prettier hair than mine, that's probably been died to a way more classier standard than Jessica S or Lauren M's, ever could dream of, looked like the motherly figure. Then theirs a short black haired pixie like girl looking every inch designer and class as the older woman. The pixie girl looks like she's almost buzzing, and stopping herself from bouncing. She's also giving me the same scrutinizing look Lauren and Jessica do but... dare I say it? In a nicer way perhaps?
The men looked just frightening. And this town thought my father was the big bad wolf? It's a laughable fact compared to these men.
One sat in my father's favourite chair close to the women, his eyes on me, rather than the scene before us. He has long blonde hair tied up at the back. I can tell as it's sometimes how I do my hair.
A big muscled man with curly brown locks and a child-like face, but something told me looks can be deceiving. And then the blonde haired man I saw first. Tall blonde doesn't look a day over twenty-five, like the rest of them you wouldn't be able to tell their real ages at all. He looked furious; if steam could be pouring from his ears they would, believe me.
Then there is him... Green eyes, which looked even greener in his presence. Now I could really see him, he has messy brown hair like mine, but with color in it and a tall filled out frame the boy's I know would only dream of having, yet never quite master this clearly man's physic.
The tall blonde man gave green eyes a look and they shared some kind of silent telepathic communication between them as blondie removed his gun, swinging it around casually in his hand on his index finger and then placed it inside a gun belt on the front of his pants, I wonder if they all had one or just him and green eyes?
I don't know why but for some reason, I couldn't look at the man who raised me for the last eighteen years, as much as I wanted to my mind and eyes wouldn't allow it.
"How very rude of me." He spoke in a deep voice, and his eyes immediately shot to the older woman.
"You should not have seen this, this was not how I planned on meeting you and Mr Swan hear shouldn't have called you. You must be Isa-"
"Just Bella," I said, out of habit. I hear Charlie groan.
"Bella..." The man said slowly.
"My name is Carlisle and this is my family of misfits. As you've probably noticed we aren't a normal family." He said.
"Why are you here in my home?" I asked him. And my hand flew to my mouth before I could say anything else that could get either myself or my Dad into trouble.
"Well... you see my dear, your father made a deal with the devil."
Adios till next Thursday...
Thoughts, please.
