Stephenie Meyers owns The Twilight Saga.

I own the books, movie, and a magazine.

That's about it.

This is my first fic. Enjoy. Please don't hesitate to comment.

P.S. Each chapter will start with a poem, assume to be written by Bella, unless told otherwise.

Prologue-Blank Paper

BPOV

"Blank Paper"

I keep trying to come up with excuses,
Of why the page is still unread,
As you know you can't judge a book by its cover,
Yet the words are still in my head,
I think it feels so empty,
Because you aren't here by my side,
The emptiness spills upon the paper,
I feel the pain writing itself in your eyes,
All I see are a bunch of lines,
A pattern of definition,
An article of confession,
For a love,
That will never be again,
And yet I want more,
As the tear is the only emotion,
That's fallen into these pages,
A book of true obsession,
A lifetime of perfection,
From the art of skillful war,
And yet the swords are words,
That I refuse to have to defend myself from,
So at that the battle is won,
My heart beats no longer,
For the one I've longed for,
This book is of self-expression,
For random kindness and senseless acts of beauty.

Phoenix, Arizona

"Are you ready, Bells?" Charlie asked.

I zipped my bag, and took a final look around the apartment. Satisfied that I had everything, I answered.

"Yeah, dad I'm ready, do you need help with mom's things?" I guess I could at least go easy on him.

"Nope, I think we're good, let's get out of here, we have a flight and long drive ahead of us."

The flight wasn't too bad. The drive in the car with only my parents was much worse. Luckily, I drowned myself in my mix cd's, turning my portable player full blast. By the time we made it back home in Forks, I was nearly deaf from the music.

I made a beeline for my room, I locked myself up to unpack, I grabbed my cigarettes first and wretched my window open to fan out the smoke and along with it the smell. I let my mind wander to what is yet to come.

I ground out the cigarette, making sure the flame was completely out before sticking my head out the window and stealthily dropping the butt behind the bush down below. I grabbed a couple pens and pencils, my journal, a notebook, and sketchpad. Drowning myself in my emotions, I began to write, and draw.

Blank paper was my freedom. I could be who I wanted to be. I wrote poetry and dabbled in stories. Most of all it kept me sane, which was my biggest worry. I didn't want to inherit the crazy.

I decided it was late enough that Charlie and Renee would be in bed. I made my way down stairs, grabbed some iced tea, and my secret stash of twizzlers. I entered my room again, and I abruptly noticed my eighth grade yearbook peaking out from under my bed. Deciding to take a minute to be nostalgic, I grabbed it. I didn't make it past the inside cover before I felt tears prick my eyes. I read the passage over and over.

'Isa- I hope this summer you realize your true place, and that it's not next to me. Here's to getting over your obsessions, your clumsiness, and your intentions to annoy me to death. I hope you drown in your tears. -Sincerely Edward. P.S. Have a nice summer.'

Why the teachers thought it was a good idea to pass this around so that anybody and everybody could sign it was beyond me. If this summer wasn't bad enough, I had to get this delivered just to make it worse.

I flipped to Edward's picture and began to study his features. His Bronze hair was in a spiky buzz cut, popped collar on his pink polo. I remember the guys thought it was the new trend. It was those damned emerald green eyes that still got me every time.

I looked over to my picture. I was wearing a simple flower patterned sundress, hair in a high ponytail. I wasn't extraordinary, or beautiful. I was just normal, plain, bland, Isabella. Oh, what they are in store for come Monday. My first day at Forks High School.

I vow Edward. Will. Not. Get. To. Me.

EPOV

Shit, three days, three days until my first day at Forks High.

This summer flipped my personality ass backwards, and I'm not quite sure how it happened. My parents passed years ago in a car accident, and I had long ago coped with the loss. I was just grateful that my mother's best friend, my godmother, kept her promise and took me in.

I had always referred to them as Aunt Esme and Uncle Carlisle, so it was comforting when they took me in at the age of seven; it seemed natural. I even grew accustom to calling them mom and dad. Alice and Emmett were always like my siblings, so I took to calling them sister and brother, which they also reciprocated.

It wasn't until mid-June that a package arrived. I guess they had sold my parents' house finally and the new owners found a few things that had been left behind. I nearly wretched again thinking about its contents.

The hospital records were in it and it took me three days to get up the nerve to read them. The first thing I noticed was the report of a cocktail of anti-depressants which my mother was on. This made me flinch, because I never remember her being unhappy. It was the alcohol level on my father's tox. report that sent me in a whirlwind.

Don't get me wrong my father was not an alcoholic, but it angered me to think he'd be stupid enough to drink and drive. Even though the report states that the accident was caused by the other driver, I couldn't shake the knowledge. I blamed him, I blamed her, thus my transformation over the summer.

Since then, I've grown my hair out, Em says it looks like glorified sex hair, which I find ironic. I pierced my lip. I mainly wear bondage pants, band shirts, chucks, or combat boots. Sometimes I sport black nail polish and 'guyliner', much to Carlisle and Esme's dismay. I never talk to my old friends anymore. I find them completely immature and ignorant. I quit playing sports and joined the band and chorus this year.

I've thrown myself into music this summer, playing, listening, appreciating. Esme was thrilled that I started playing the piano again, even if she felt the tunes were 'melancholy', but whatever. I have even written quite a bit of poetry and lyrics. They might not recognize me this year, and for that I am entirely hopeful.

All the anxiety of going back to school was creeping in so I decided that I needed a cigarette. In the haste of getting my nicotine fix, I dropped my lighter. I knelt down to reach under my bed, but it wasn't the lighter my hand first made contact with, but my yearbook.

I grabbed the cigarette-blocking book and quickly found the runaway lighter. I decided to familiarize myself with the faces, before I had to take to the halls Monday. I smiled at the fact that I had everyone's signature. Except hers. Isabella Swan.

I kind of felt bad considering the crap I wrote in hers. She was never mean to me though she was a little obsessed with me. The guys were always pushing me to treat her shitty or say completely rash things to her.

I made my way out to my balcony, and proceeded with smoking. I ran my thumb over her face, a picture of her pure innocence, well as innocent as I was aware. She had an abrupt change to her though. I couldn't help but to laugh at the last vague conversation I had with her.

"One day you'll realize that you are, in fact, not as cool as you think you are." Isabella's voice was clipped, and determined.

"If I'm not that cool, then why do you blush every time I so much as look at you sweetheart? What is it that you find irresistible if it isn't my cool factor?" I asked her in the best silky voice I could muster.

"Your eyes." She shrugged.

I stood speechless for a full minute before I could muster a smirk. "They were my mother's, though I think they look good on me, don't you think, honey?"

"Of course, but if you're not careful they will lose their power on us girls, behind your asshole demeanor, shittastic attitude, and all the fuckery you pull." She replied in a huff, before turning to stalk away from me.

To say I was speechless was an understatement.

She usually cried or ran from me, but those last couple of days her eyes seemed vacant and cold. I knew things were going to shit with the chief's wife. Never, never had I heard Isabella curse before, she always berated me when I did. That rant floored me, and I had realized in that moment that something was terribly wrong. I never got a chance to verify that, because after that day, she was gone.

I snubbed my cigarette out before retreating back into my room. I took one last look at her picture before tossing the book back under my bed. I needed to know what turned her world over, and fix it. I needed to know her.

I would fix Isabella. Marie. Swan

A/N:

The prologue is rather short, the chapters tend to be quite longer...

Prologue Playlist

1. Warning- Incubus

2. Like a Man Possessed- The Get Up Kids

3. Psycho- Puddle of Mudd

4. Nowhere kids- Smile Empty Soul

5. Numb- Linkin Park

Reviews are more than welcome.

I hope you continue reading...