A/N: Rated T for Teen. Please review. I have to know what's going through the reader's mind. Ha-ha. Many thanks to my friends for encouraging me to write this, especially thanks to VampireAngel15, your support has been nothing shy of greatness and wonder. Thank you, my walking dictionary. (:

Feeling the wind through my hair, and the clouded sun on my face didn't make me feel very special. It could have been because my sun dress was really a sheet draped over my clumpy body, but it could also have been the fact that I was moving into small town of Spoons. I remember telling my mother about wanting to move to Spoons like it was only yesterday.

It was only yesterday, but still.

Paul told me to leave, that there wasn't enough room for me anymore. I didn't know if that had to do with my mother being married and probably starting another family, or the fact that I had gained another hundred pounds. Either way, I was leaving. I saw Charlie's police truck pull up to the airport and he strapped me into the trunk, all six hundred and twenty seven pounds of me. Only like a loving father could. He turned to me and said,

"Now, I'm going to keep the window open, so if you want to talk, we can."

"Sounds great, Dad," I responded. He nodded and started the car.

"You know," he said, "I really missed having you around, Bells."

"Well, Charlie -- err, I mean, Dad, sorry, behind your back I like to degrade you as a father figure by calling you by your first name -- I missed --" Just as I was about to finish that heartwarming statement, something flew into my mouth! I started choking and coughing.

Crap! What do you do when you start choking, again?

Oh, yeah! Stop, drop, and roll!

I put myself in the best rolling position I thought possible, and I started twisting and turning…and still coughing.

Finally I threw up and found that I had swallowed a fly! My white sundress (curtain) was full of yellow chunks of I don't want to know what, but that didn't matter. I was safe. See, I was clumsy, and usually things didn't end up in my favor when it came to safety.

"Seeing you too," I finished. I always finish what I start. That might have been the reason I became the weight that I am…

"I'm glad to hear that," he responded. I became annoyed.

"Must you always have the --" I started coughing and joking again.

Stop, drop, and roll.

My stop was abrupt, the drop opened the trunk door, and my roll was just strong enough to allow me to fly out of the car.

I landed with a thud. Luckily we weren't still on the high way.

"Darn you, flies!" I screamed.

I picked myself up and started towards the direction the police truck went. Leaves and dirt and other things from the earth were stuck to my dress thanks to the stomach acid. Also known as throw up. I like using large words and specific descriptions. It makes me seem smart, even though I am a modest person and I deny any thing that's said good about me. Although, I secretly believe myself to be full of potential to be the mate of some supernatural creature. Like a merman.

I really want a merman.

I had walked a few yards and I felt exhausted.

"How do people do this?" I asked myself.

"Bella!" I heard my father's voice. Thank God. I couldn't walk another step. "There you are. What happened?"

"Firemen lie, that's what!"

"…You know, I'm a police officer, and I know some very respectable firemen."

"Well, you can tell those respectable people that when you stop, drop, and roll, you end up in brush!"

"Did you catch on fire?"

"I wish."

"What?"

"I swallowed a fly! Can you believe that? A fly. I wish I was dead."

"I forgot about how over dramatic you are."

He strapped me in the back again and we drove the rest of the way to the house. Which was half a block away.

"Welcome home!" Charlie shot open the door. He always did love his police gun.

The house looked exactly the same. Oh! There was the cinnamon roll I had set out for later, before I realized that I hated Spoons and called my mother right then and demanded she bring me home.

I suppose it could be considered later right now…

I picked up the roll. It was hard, stale, and gooey. Perfect. I tried biting into it, but it was too hard. Like concrete.

"Father! We need cinnamon rolls." I looked around and something in the China hutch caught my eye. "Dad! You redecorated."

He smiled with pride.

"Where did you get all these rocks?" I asked, picking up one of the many black rocks.

"My genitals." I quickly released the stone from my hand.

"What?"

"Those are my kidney stones, Bella! I was so alone here, and having kidney stones is kind of like having kids, except men can do it too. These are like my children… They're like your siblings."

"Yeah… I'm just going to go upstairs to unpack."

"You do that," he responded, gazing admiringly at his "children". "Oh! Before you go up to your room, I know how much you hate climbing stairs, so I made you an elevator!"

"Really?" I was astonished. "Thanks, Dad!" I looked around. No silver doors in my sight. "Where is it?"

"Here." He opened a closet door and I saw a basket with a string tied to it.

"Um, Dad, I don't think --" I started.

"Don't even think about it. It was my pleasure building it. Go on! Take a sit in the basket! It's not going to kill you." I stared at the tiny, evil basket that was supposed to be my elevator.

"I don't know about that."

"I bet you will be using it every day!"

"Oh, you'd lose that bet."

I attempted the "elevator", but I just hurt myself.

"I'll just use the rope," I muttered.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I have to unpack, don't I?"

He sighed.

"Alright."

Charlie brought out the rope and tied it around my waste. He then grabbed the rope and pulled me up the staircase with all his strength.

"We're almost here," he grunted.

"Thanks, Dad," I mumbled.

"I'll be downstairs. Counting my kidney stones."

"Um…"

"Don't go supernatural on me, now!" He grinned. Weird expression. I have never heard it before. Maybe it's a Spoons thing?

Whatever. No one has time for the supernatural this day in age.

My room hadn't changed either. Except instead of a crib, there was a bed, with brick supporters, of course, and an old looking computer. Oh! And even the rocking chair.

I might as well sit in for old times sake.

I took a seat in the wooden rocking chair, it was awfully uncomfortable.

How can anyone sit in this thing? It must be for kindergarteners! I tried one last time to sit comfortably into my childhood chair, but I ended up breaking it.

Woops.

Oh, well, it wasn't because I was fat or anything. Seriously, any high school student would have broken the chair. It's for young kindergarteners after all!

I swept the broken wood chunks under the rug. No one would have to know. I saw that under my bed was a Scrapbook.

"More memories!" I squealed. I looked at the pictures.

Every single one of them was of either Charlie or my mother holding me as a baby on the rocking chair.

At first I didn't know it was me. I was embarrassed to find out that what I thought was a young calf was really me at six months.

Then, there was even a picture of Charlie with my mom on his lap. They looked happy. They didn't have the strangled looks on their faces that they had when I was on their laps. Actually, there was even about two inches on each side of Charlie's legs.

"Why?!" I shouted.

"Bella! You're disturbing the stones."

"THEY AREN'T YOUR CHILDREN!"

"They are just like children, except they don't break your heart."

I rolled my eyes at his nonsense. When have I ever broke his heart?

"Dad! I can't stand it in Spoons. I will not stay here during the summers, you'll just have to come to Arizona with me and Mom!"

"Bella, you're breaking my heart…"

Oh. Right. Well, tomorrow would be better, or worse. It's not like I'm psychic. It's not like I know any future-seers. School tomorrow, though. First day at Spoons High School.

"Good night, Dad!" I yelled to Charlie.

"You're going to bed already?"

I couldn't respond. The world had already become dark, and I was already dreaming of donuts…