Viva la Revolution

A/N: This is my first crack at fanfiction. So please be kind.

I do not own these characters, Stephanie Meyers does. However I do own a bad ass cat who likes to try and eat me.

Chapter 1

It was official. My skinny ass was going to the clink.

I lied face down on the cold concerte floor. In a large dark warehouse that contained so many good memories for me. The only light was coming from the red and blue flashing lights of the police cruisers outside the large open double metal doors. I shut my eyes tight to try and block out the reality of what was happening to me and the ones I loved.

God dammit, I just fucking wish this bitter, harsh, money driven world would leave us all the fuck alone.

We all knew it was only a matter of time before this happened. People like us, the dregs of society, weren't meant to be happy. Our demise was inevitable.

While living with my fellow misfits in our shared community, I noticed that there was a sense of unease the last few days. It seemed like a major change was coming on the horizon for all of us. Yeah, we all knew that shit was going to go down. All of us that is except Alice, her punk rock tattooed ass was always wrong about shit like this. She always told me she could "see the future". Personally, I think she just has acid flash backs.

We built this place, our home from the ground up. We did it by taking care of each other. We made sure everyone was fed, had clean clothes, and a shoulder to cry on. We worked fucking hard for what we had. Most kids here (myself included) never had anyone who looked out for us. We were all outcasts with no one to turn to. So fate brought us all here together.

I remember the afternoon I finally left my dad to search for a better life. I was sitting in my great grandmother's old wooden rocking chair wondering how things had gotten this bad. Wondering how I had made the decisions that led me to this place. To a point in time where hoplessness was all that surrounded me. I felt like all of the promise, all of the dreams I once had within my grasp, had slipped away.

I knew that I only had myself to blame. I had given up the very core of my being to satisfy others. I have always wanted to make the people close to me happy. I wanted to see them smile. So I subverted my needs to fulfill their's. Little did I realize that, over time, this chipped away at me, at my very foundation, leaving me feeling empty and alone.

But like I said, that was my choice. My decision. To take care of the people around me. Even though at times I knew my family and friends took advantage of my martyr-like tendencies. They enjoyed me giving in to them. Being able to always get what they wanted to benefit them. Giving me nothing in return.

I can see it now, the wrong decisions I made. But I didn't have the courage then to live the life I wanted. Instead I lived the life others chose for me so that I wouldn't disappoint them.

Yes, that used to be my biggest problem. I had no courage. I was a fucking wimp. So, as I sat there thinking, I knew what I had to do. I had to leave this small town. I had to leave my drunk of a father, my sorry ass "friends" and crummy after school job.

I had to find what I needed. And what I needed was freedom. Freedom from family and friends who showed me little to no love and affection. I wanted to find a home, a community where what I gave was appreciated by everyone. I wanted to know people who pulled together and looked after each other. I wanted to be taken care of, and to care of those people in return. Yes, that was it. I needed to find people who thought and felt like I did. I needed to find reciprocal relationships.

Sitting in that rocking chair, I quickly jumped up, ran to my closet, and started rifling through all of my crap. I found my large buffle bag at the bottom of the closet. I hadn't used it since I moved in with my father Charlie five years ago. That was also the last time I saw my mother Renee.

I knew Renee had had enough of me long before I moved to the small town of Forks to live with Charlie. She was overjoyed when I finally told her that I though I would try living with him. With me gone, she would finally have what she wanted, a life with her new husband Phil. Free from the "responsibilities" of raising a teenage daughter. But I couldn't deny her her freedom, because like I said earlier, I wanted everyone to be happy, even if I wasn't. Even if what made her happy was never bothering to call or visit me.

I started shoving random pieces of clothing into my bag. Then I went to my bookshelf and grabbed some of my favourite books. At my bed, I lifted up the mattress to find the meagre envelope of money I had hidden there, away from Charlie's greedy, drunken hands. Lastly, I ran out of my room into the bathroom and packed my toiletry bag into my now very full duffle bag. I quickly headed down the stairs, to find the t.v. on to some sporting event. I glanced over the couch to see Charlie fast asleep clutching a beer in his hand.

It made me sad to see him like that. When I was little he was full of life, always happy and smiling. But he became a bitter man who drank to hide his pain. I knew that Charlie was heartbroken over my mother leaving him 16 years ago. Over time, the loss had weighed on him.

When I first moved in with him I saw how much he had changed. Always moping around the house with a beer in his hand. Seeing him so broken down, so weathered, made me want to fix him. To put all his pieces back together. I decided I would take care of him just like I had been taking care of Renee. And in all that time I spent taking care of them not once did they say thank you.

So I quickly wrote a goodbye note to Charlie, telling him I loved him. Then I took one last look at my home for past five years and walked out the door, knowing that this was it. It was going to be the biggest decision of my life.

It was official that no matter what happened.

If I sank or swam.

That was a defining moment in my life.

Thinking back I know I made the right decision to come to Seattle. I had found exactly what I had been looking for. This was the life I was meant for. Caring for the less fortunate while they cared for me. We were like Robin Hood and his fucking band of merry men (except we had lots of chicks in our gorup). We were a band of revolutionaries fighting for justice, to make sure all people had a place in society. So if that meant we had to rob from the rich and give to the poor then so fucking be it. We were just evening things out.

But, taking five finger discounts from large multi-billion dollar stores isn't why I was lying here on the floor with my hands cuffed behind my back and my feet bond together. No, we were here because of that rich ass golden boy Edward fucking Cullen. He had taken everything from my friends and me. The thought of him having so much power over me and my comrades made me so fucking angry I wanted to cry.

I heard Alice to my left trying to comfort me with loving words. I turned my head to look at her. We stared into each other's eyes. Silent tears started to run down her lovely pale face. I wanted to wipe her tears away but I couldn't and neither could she.

"My cuffs are too tight," she whispered. "They're cutting me."

"FUCK," I screamed. I hated seeing her like this. So defeated, all the life taken out of her eyes.

Then I heard Vicky whisper something. I turned my head to the right to look at her. Her long red curly hair covered most of her face.

"Don't worry Alice this will be over soon," she cooed in a soft voice.

We were the only ones left in the warehouse. Everyone else had already been carried out. I started thinking about how this large space used to be our safe haven. And now it was lost to us.

I heard loud thumping footsteps. I looked up straining my neck and saw six cops in black riot gear come inside. They divded into two groups of three. Three went to my left and three to my right.

"Get the fuck away from me," Vicky snarled.

The cops remained silent as they quickly picked her up and carried her out. Vicky, of course, didn't go quietly. She started swearing and squirming in the police officers' hands. It brought a smile to my face to see how strong her spirit was.

I looked over to Alice. She was still crying when two cops, one on either side of her, grabbed her tiny arms roughly. The third picked up her feet. They hoisted her up into the air and started walking out.

"I'll see you at the cop shop," I yelled trying to comfort her.

"I love you Belle, stay strong," she called out in a choked voice.

"I love you too, Alley Cat."

Now there was just me, alone and cold. I put my face back down on the ground. The strain in my neck was killing me.

Then I heard the sound of footsteps enter the warehouse again. But they were different. They didn't sound like the heavy combat boots the cops wore. They were lighter, softer. I lifted my head once more and was taken aback by what I saw.

"I didn't think you would bother to come and see all your dirty work carried out," I hissed, my teeth gritted in anger.

He was silent. He took a few steps closer to me, his designer shoes in front of my face. Then he bent down on one knee so that we were eye level. His dark green eyes staring into mine. He took a deep breath and sighed. I noticed that his usual neatly combed bouffant of bronze hair was in a messy disarray. He slowly lifted his hand to my head and brushed my long brown hair behind my shoulder. Like he fucking gave a shit or something. He moved his hand to my chin and lightly brushed his fingers along it. He drew his face closer to mine so that we were just a few inches apart. And still he remained silent.

This was the man that stole my home and the people I cared about most in the world. I would make him pay. With my last ounce of strength, I knew what I had to do. I looked him right in his eyes, my heart full of hate. And then I spit in his face, laughing out, "Viva la Revolution, Cullen."