Author's Note- Hi! First of all, this is my first Twilight fanfiction. And, I am obviously not as talented as some of the authors on here, but I do think that I am fairly good. Please review; good things or bad. Although, don't be too mean—constructive criticism is more appreciated than a flame.

Disclaimer- The Twilight characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. And anything else you may recognize... well, I don't own those either.


Prologue-

When I was five years old, my parents divorced. My most vivid memories from my early years were the fights. They were always loud and very scary. My father would come home from work, tired after a long day at the station. He would sit down at the dinner table after kissing my forehead and nod towards my mother. It would be silent for several minutes before my mother would ask how his day was. She always started out even-toned. My father always gave the same answer—Same ole', same ole.' This however, did not satisfy my mother, and then her voice would change and she would beg Charlie to consider moving away from Forks. I'm bored, she would whine. In turn, he would ask why she was bored; after all, she had me. Renee would look at me for a fleeting moment before turning back to Charlie and repeating herself. I knew, even at a young age, that my mother did not want me.

When the decision was made that my parents would divorce, there was not any question as to who I would be living with. The day my mother packed her bags to move to Phoenix, I sat at the kitchen table, a half eaten pop tart in front of me, watching her move back and forth between the bedroom, the living room, and the kitchen. Charlie had left for the station extra early that morning, leaving me to listen to my mother's complaints. She moaned about how unfair her life was. That was the first time I told myself I hated my mother. She was leaving me, her own child, behind because she was bored. Yet, her life was unfair. Later, I would learn to laugh at the irony of it all.

When Renee left, Charlie and I didn't hear from her. I didn't expect to. Renee was done with this small town life and she was on to bigger and better things. As she said, she married too young, had a child too young, and she needed to live, needed to see the world. But Charlie, he was destined for this life, and he was heartbroken. He loved my mother with every part of his being. Every day that I had to see Charlie with a frown on his face, my hatred for my mother grew. My father was my hero, and it was almost unimaginable for him to be as broken as he was. My mother was the evil villain, and this time, the hero was not going to win. Barely a year after she took off, Charlie's heart began to fail, until finally, shortly after my sixth birthday, he died.

Tracking down Renee had been an ordeal for social services. For two weeks I slept in one of the many top bunks at a group home, each address they found leading to another dead end. Every day I would ask if they had found her, and each time they shook their head, I knew that she was covering her tracks. When they did find her, she was in Jacksonville, Florida, living with a man who claimed to be the world's next billionaire. Renee was shocked to learn of Charlie's death, and for a moment, seemed genuinely hurt. But, then, when she realized it meant that I was once again her responsibility, her voice became forced. I had told the girl in the bunk next to mine that I would do anything if it meant I did not have to go with Renee. However, the group home was becoming very cramped and uncomfortable compared to my simple life in Forks, and I found myself boarding a plane headed south. I lived with Renee and her wannabe billionaire boyfriend for two years before social services decided Renee was unfit as a mother. I was surprised they took me away that day—since the day I arrived at my mother's house, I was taking care of myself. Renee was never home. I guess it just took the complaints of nosey neighbors for the state to finally intervene.

Foster homes were no better than living with my mother. Most families were in it for the money. I barely saw a dime of what the state paid all of my foster parents. I went to four different families and attended eight different schools, each being worse than the last. I did not have new clothes or shoes; I was not allowed the things my peers were; I never really had any friends. My foster siblings were the cruelest of them all, spreading nasty rumors throughout the school on more than one occasion. When things became too unbearable, I would act out—I began smoking at twelve, both cigarettes and weed. The harder drugs came at fourteen. I lost my virginity at fifteen. I learned that by acting out, I could get away, if only for a little while. I could get away from one awful family, but find myself being placed into another.

The summer before I turned seventeen, I met Jacob Black. He was two years younger than me and visiting a cousin, who lived across the street from me. I was grounded that week, after being caught trespassing with some older kids. I knew it was only a matter of time before this family decided I was too much to handle and then I would fall back into the system. The family had gone out for dinner and a movie that night, leaving me alone and locked in my room. Jake had seen me hanging out of the window, smoking a cigarette. He approached me slowly, commenting about how cigarettes were bad for me. I had laughed at him, finishing the one I had in my hand and then lighting another. When I asked if he wanted one, he accepted, despite his previous warning.

If there was one thing my life had taught me, it was not to trust anyone. But I found myself somewhere inside of Jake. He made me laugh, a real genuine laugh. An hour had passed quickly and when I leaned in to kiss him, he didn't object. I knew it was wrong, considering he was barely fifteen. But I pulled him into my room regardless and in a mere twenty minutes, we were laying in my bed, completely naked. That night, he told me he loved me and intended to spend the rest of his life with me. I told him he was being a pussy and it was because I was his first. But, at the end of the summer, he insisted that I head back to Washington when I was eighteen to be with him. In his mind, we had a happily ever after.

Regardless of my pessimism, when my eighteenth birthday rolled around, I dropped out of school and used the bulk of my savings to purchase a plane ticket. I had not told Jake I was coming, not sure if I would follow through with it. I told myself over and over again that I was foolish to be giving up whatever I could have had for a boy. And that's what he was, a boy. Love did not exist and I was merely following Jacob to occupy my time. I knew what love did to a person, and I was not going to become my parents. But, when I found my way to the La Push reservation and up to Jacob's house, my heart broke into a thousand pieces when he opened the door, shirtless, and I could see a girl lying on the couch, her shirt unbuttoned and skirt around her ankles.

I hated myself after that. I had done the one thing I told myself I would never do. Jake had stepped outside, closing the door quickly behind him, I knew to hide the girl, but it was too late. Bella, he had whispered. He tried to take me into his arms, but I pushed him away forcefully. He stumbled, falling against the door. I was fighting tears of both anger and sadness. I didn't say anything to him as I walked away, ignoring his attempts to get me to come back. Twenty minutes later, the screen on my prepaid cell phone lit up. I knew I only had a couple of minutes left, and I knew the quicker they ran out, the sooner Jake would be forced to give up. I hit the talk button but didn't say anything. I could hear Jake apologizing over and over again, begging me to say something, anything. And then there was a click and Jake's voice was gone.

My first year in Washington was hard. After leaving Jake's house, I walked aimlessly down the side road until I realized where I was. I was in Forks. Memories of my parents' divorce suddenly filled my mind. I walked for nearly a half hour until I found it. There was a demolition notice on the front door and the steps of the porch were sagging. The grass was so overgrown it was almost over my knees. I carefully climbed the steps and forced the front door open. My childhood home was almost completely empty, besides a broken coffee table and a dirty couch. I wondered if anyone had lived in the house since Charlie's death. I didn't dare go up the stairs, afraid they would fall through. I made my way to the couch and sat down, allowing myself to cry for the first time in years. I had always said I was alone and put up the I-don't-care front, but now, I really was alone and somewhere inside me, I did care.

After that breakdown, I decided that I really did not need anyone but myself. Somehow, I was able to secure a job at a local sporting goods store. For almost a year, I was homeless, living mostly on the ratty old couch in my old home. Every two weeks I would cash my paycheck from Newton's and stash the money under one cushion. I wasn't stupid—I knew I couldn't live this way forever. I had gone to the local high school and signed up for the G.E.D. program. My plans of spending forever with Jacob were quickly replaced with getting a college degree. Although I was a problem child, I had been fairly smart, despite the grades that said otherwise. I finished the program in half the time, and with the help of Ms. Newton, I would be attending the community college one town over.

That was when I met Mike. Mike Newton was the son of Mr. and Ms. Newton. He was my age, and was home from college visiting. When I walked into the store that day, I had stopped dead in my tracks as he stocked the back wall. He was absolutely gorgeous. The protective barriers that I had spent the last year and a half rebuilding were knocked down the moment he spoke to me. He was sweet and kind and charming and I was in lust all over again. I was blown away by Mike and in a matter of days, I was staying with him in his hotel and at the end of his two week stay, I was telling Ms. Newton that I was going to the University of Washington with Mike. Although disappointed she would be losing me as an employee, she was overjoyed at the prospect of gaining me as a daughter.

I spent two years with Mike. Our relationship was very satisfying physically, but emotionally, Mike and I would never be compatible. Mike was ready for marriage and told me on a daily basis that he loved me. I never said it once throughout the duration of our relationship. I knew that love was not possible, despite how much Mike wanted it. He proposed to me on my twenty second birthday. I made him cry when I told him no, I did not love him and that I thought we should end it. I told myself I should have never gotten as close as I had to Mike. He tried for months after this to convince me to change my mind. He finally gave up when he graduated and headed east for his new career.

When I was twenty four, I managed to secure a degree in elementary education. A career involving children had not been my first choice. When I transferred to the University of Washington with my A.A., I was going to go for an English degree and perhaps settle for a receptionist position. But, a girl in my Advance Literature class had convinced me to tag along with her one day when she volunteered at an elementary school. I instantly became fascinated by these kids and I knew that I wanted to work with them. When I graduated with my bachelor's, I applied at every inner city school in Washington.

That had been almost two years ago. And, now, as I sat behind my desk, I smiled, a true genuine smile. I knew that due to my childhood, I was able to relate to these kids. Most come from situations similar to mine, although others had it much worse. But helping them out and offering them a hope that I knew I no longer had was somewhat gratifying.

It was Friday. School had ended a little over an hour ago, but I was staying longer, grading spelling tests and multiplication quizzes. My cell phone suddenly went off, making me jump in my seat. I did not recognize the number. The area code was familiar. I knew I had seen it before, but I could not place it. I debated for a moment whether to answer it or not. After all, it was more than likely a wrong number or a telemarketer. After a moment, the ringing stopped, my voicemail cutting on. Whoever it was did not leave a message, but after a minute, called again.

"Hello?"

"Is this Isabella Swan?"

"This is Bella, yes. Who is this?"

"Ma'am, this is Lieutenant Daniels. I am with the Jacksonville Sheriff's Office and I am calling in regards to your mother, Renee Dwyer."

"Um—" I stated. Dwyer? "Are you sure you have the right person?"

"Let's see…" I heard the ruffling of papers in the background as Lieutenant Daniels muttered to himself. "Her maiden name is Higginbotham."

"Oh, yeah, that's her." I paused for a moment. "Look, what is this about? I haven't seen nor spoken to my mother in almost twenty years."

"Well, Miss Swan, your mother and her husband, Phil Dwyer, were killed in a car accident this afternoon."

"Yes?" I knew I sounded detached and it was making the Lieutenant uncomfortable.

"You are listed as your mother's next of kin, after Mr. Dwyer, of course, and therefore, you must be notified as soon as possible."

"Oh. Well. Okay." I didn't know what to say. "Thanks, I suppose."

"Yes. All right." He was definitely uncomfortable.

"Is that all?"

"Well, no. There is the matter of your brother."

My brother? What brother? I was Renee's only child and hell, she couldn't even take care of me. There was no way she had another one that the state let her keep. "What?"

"Your younger brother, Miss Swan."

"I don't have a brother."

"According to my paperwork, Mr. and Ms. Dwyer have a six year old son, named Gabriel. You mean you have no idea who this child is?"

"I have never heard of any brother," I replied sharply.

"Oh. Well, then." He sighed heavily. "Well, thank you for your time, Ms. Swan, and I apologize for your loss."

"Thank you," I replied, pulling the phone from my ear, until—"Wait." My brain was screaming. What are you doing, Bella?

"Yes, Ms. Swan?"

"With my mother and her husband gone, what will happen to, what did you say his name was? Gabriel?"

"Well, being there are no other living relatives, we will have to begin the process of placing him into a foster home."

"And, if I, as his only living relative did know who he was? What would be the options then?"

"Well, naturally, you could become his legal guardian."

I sucked in a breath. My mind was arguing with my heart and I felt caught in the middle. It felt as if I was another person and then I said, "Don't put him into the system yet; I will be there by morning."


End Author's Note- A big thanks to my best friend, Ms. Priss, for giving me the encouragement to post again. She's an awesome writer, a lot better than me, so check out her stories too. She's on my favorite author's list. Anyways, once again, please review, even if it is just a word to let me know if you like it. The more reviews I get, the more determined I get, and the sooner I post. Thanks!