Okay so first post…deep breath..here goes….
AN: I don't own the characters I merely manipulate them to perform my every whim (minds out of gutter please ladies)
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In all my years I've learned one thing about life, It goes on. - Robert Frost
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Anonymous-
If I had known how it would end, I doubt I would have changed anything at all.
The truth of the matter is it wasn't the end that really mattered, nor was it the beginning, it was what lay between.
It was my journey, our journey that changed everything.
And yet, one thing remained the same.
Love.
…
Bella-
Some people say that when a person dies you feel it in your soul; others say you experience a collision of sound, sight and emotion that leaves you broken inside.
Whoever they are they lied.
When someone dies you don't hear anything, for a moment you feel suspended in silence, and when that moment ends and the world comes crashing down you don't feeling anything.
For a long time you're numb.
A week after Mom's death I was stuck in my own personal hell…a limbo of nothingness.
And now I was being sent back to the one person who never wanted me in the first place, Charlie. I suppose he'd want me to call him Dad but I can't say I ever felt any paternal connection between us. Truthfully, I hadn't seen dear old Daddy since I was six years old and my mother walked out on him.
Although, that didn't seem to bother Aunt Cathy who was hastily shoving my belongings into a duffel bag.
"It's nothing personal sweetheart." She panted, trying to squeeze one last pair of jeans into the bursting bag. "You know I'd keep you with me if I could…It's just that I'm on a tight budget and your mother…well she didn't really account for…for…well for anything and I just… I just…"
"Its okay Cat. I understand." I murmured softly.
I did understand. Mom hadn't been quite herself after she left Charlie, I used to listen to her cry herself to sleep at night through the thin walls of her apartment and that made me angry…at her, at myself for being such a burden but mostly at Charlie.
Things had gotten tough before Mom died, we were struggling for money and Renee had started drinking again. But I couldn't blame her for that. She was stressed, working two jobs in order to keep our little disaster zone we called home and to keep me happy. Mom only ever wanted me to be happy.
But she wasn't here anymore and Cathy didn't have the time, money or inclination to take care of a broken 17 year old who she hardly knew anyway.
"I miss her too Bella." Cat soothed with a pitying expression.
I felt the sudden urge to cry as I realized that I would be leaving the last thing that connected me my mother in an hour, my home.
I suppressed the tears as I had been doing for over two weeks and gave a small smile, which probably seemed like a grimace, to my aunt, "It would be hard not to Cat."
Then I didn't need to cry, Cathy was doing it for me and enfolding me in a warm embrace that would most likely be my last for a long time.
I arrived in New York right on schedule which would no doubt please Charlie, whom I'd been informed, was strict on punctuality.
Though I can't say much for my alleged father I can say that he has managed well for himself, working his way up the ranks from small town Police chief of Forks to the Police Chief of the entire city of New York.
I quickly collected my dismal baggage and headed out of domestic arrivals searching for any sign of a familiar face.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Eventually I lost track of time as I sat atop my ugly red duffel and watched as the last of the new arrivals drifted from the airport.
I'd been forgotten.
After sitting in the airport foyer for nearly three hours I decided to check the nearest help desk for a phonebook. The perky blonde behind the counter merely glanced at me non-judgmentally before handing me what I assumed to be her only mobile phone and a telephone book. With a polite smile she headed off to the baggage claim desk and left me to my searching.
After 15 minutes I came to terms with the fact that Charlie Swan wasn't registered so I made my way to the taxi bay, exhausted and homesick. I figured I could take a taxi to Madison Avenue where Charlie's new apartment was and get someone to pay the tab for me. Unfortunately the taxi bay was empty.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I whispered harshly.
With no money, no taxi, no one to care that I was here or that I didn't even know where I was going I trudged out into the rain determined to somehow find my way to Charlie, the worst fucking father in the world.
It was dark, cold and bleak in the city and soon enough my clothes were soaked through. Still, I refused to give up. But I was lost. Utterly and terribly lost and the only person who would've cared is gone.
At the thought my chest starts aching and then I feel the warm wet sluice of salty water down my pale, cold cheeks. I'm crying and I hate every second of it and with every second I loathe my father more and more.
I don't know what to do and so I find the nearest underground car park, huddle in the corner and, for the first time in my life, I cry myself to sleep.
Too soon after I feel a sharp poke in my side and snap awake searching for the perpetrator only to come face to face with two police officers.
"Miss, what exactly are you doing in the car park?" One tall, too pudgy, red head male asked with condemnation lacing every word.
"Sleeping, obviously." I bite back at him.
"Now, now no need to get feisty…" Pudgy starts, resting his ugly hand on his holster in warning.
"Did you run away from home, are you in some kind of trouble?" The other officer asked with kind eyes, interrupting his partner.
"I…I don't know how…um…I can't get home." I stutter, my voice raw and gravelly.
"What do you mean you don't know how to get home?" Mr. Pudge demanded.
Before I could respond the kind faced officer held his hand out to me and pulled me up.
"We're going to take you home now miss." The kind officer smiled and led me to the cruiser parked outside.
"You wouldn't, by any chance, happen to know where Chief Swan lives do you?" I asked.
AN: This is one of the stories I have started. The one which gets the most feedback will probably be the one I continue with…so press that button and show me some love/or hate I'm not opposed to either.
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The apartment was huge, flashy and reeked of money. I hated it. When I reached the door after coaxing the doorman to actually let me in I was reluctant to actually ring the ostentatious, ugly, gold bell that rested on the perfect, mahogany door frame.
When I finally pressed the god awful button a shrill chime sounded and I winced as I heard footsteps rush to the door. But these were not the heavy footsteps of a male.
The door opened to reveal a scantily clad, young female I beg who glanced at me sharply before releasing a pitiful giggle that sounded far too youthful. "Charles! I believe you have some unexpected company." She called out in a lilting tone.
I hated her. I hated her perfect red hair and her perfect skin and perfect lingerie. Most of all I hated that she made me so acutely aware of my own inferiority.
"What on earth are you talking about Vicky?" 'Charles' retorted irritably. "Come back in here my little tigress before I have to drag your beautiful aaa…."
Charlie trailed off as he emerged from a room to find me standing at the door, sopping wet, shivering and worn down to my very last tether. "Hey Charlie, how's life?" I uttered dryly.
"Bells? Is that you? What on earth are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be here until the seventeenth!" He raged, pulling me inside and slamming the door closed behind me.
"Which would be today," I replied, "But I can see you were otherwise occupied." Glaring at the gaping girl beside me I dropped my drenched duffle bag to the cold marble floor resulting in a satisfying 'splat'.
"Charles, this street urchin belongs to you?" Little miss perfect laughed until she caught Charlie's expression and darted from the room, "I'll just…uh, fetch some towels."
With the red head out of sight Charlie turned on me. "Why on earth didn't you call me?" he yelled.
"I don't have your phone number let alone a phone to call you with."
Charlie's only answer was to growl indignantly, "What seventeen year old doesn't have a mobile phone Isabella?"
"One who doesn't have the money to buy one." I answered softly. Charlie reared back suddenly and his livid expression was replaced with one of remorse.
"Oh Bells, I'm uh…that was a stupid of me I…why don't you just go to bed kiddo and we'll talk about this in the morning."
Feeling uncomfortable I nodded and headed in the direction of the room he pointed to. Without getting changed or even getting dry, I fell asleep on the crisply made, white iron bed.
Early in the morning I heard soft laughter and chuckling from down the hall and groaned. I decided to shower to drown out the noise only to find it hadn't ended by the time I'd finished. I felt dirty again, violated. It wasn't right. Why should he get to be so happy when mom was dead? Why should he get to act like a teenager when I felt like every ounce of my humanity was slipping away? I hated him. I hated this house. I hated my life.
I looked into the mirror and saw nothing and no one staring back at me. My mom used to tell me that I was beautiful every day. When I asked her why she simply smiled and answered, "So that you'll never forget just how gorgeous you are." I didn't feel gorgeous, I felt ugly, horrid, sub-human. The long brown hair that used to have life looked limp and dull, my brown eyes, once compared to hot chocolate, soulless. I'd been reduced to a walking shell of a person. Who cares?
No one.
When I heard the exchange of goodbyes and the definite click of a door I figured it was safe to emerge from my room and quickly slipped into the kitchen. I was followed by Charlie who swiftly poured himself a cup of coffee before sliding a mug and the pot over to me.
"So kiddo, are you all ready for school today?"
"School?" I sputtered.
"Yes. You know…books, teachers, learning…" He continued with a flourish of his hand.
"No." I whispered.
"I've gotten you into St. Jude's, quite a reputable school too. Their known for their sensitivity towards the uh…needs of their students." He continued unwaveringly.
"Charlie…" I whimpered as he paced around the kitchen.
"Vicky bought some clothes for you from the store, their in your closet and I had the school send over anything you might need."
"Charlie…I can't go." I told him, more firmly this time.
"Don't be ridiculous Isabella. Now I have to get to work, I'll have someone drop you off to school. I don't know what time I'll be back so don't wait up." He continued as he walked towards the door.
"Charlie!"
"Have a good day Isabella." And he closed the door with a resonating thud.
"I'm scared…" I murmured to myself.
Standing on shaking legs I made my way back to 'my room' and pulled open the closet to reveal and endless collection of brightly coloured designer clothes.