A/N: So here's another fanfic. It's been in my head and on my computer for a while now so I thought I'd just throw it out here and see what y'all think.

BPOV

I looked into the grungy, dirt covered mirror. I didn't recognize myself. I wasn't me anymore. Now, I was just some lonely girl who stayed at this apartment and wallowed in her own self pity.

Had it really only been a year? A single year since my world had come crashing down around me with just four simple words? It scared me that I had gone from a happy teenager with lots of loving friends to this. Whatever this was…

"Bella!" Renée shouted through the door, though there was no need it was so thin. "Hurry up! I have to put my face on!"

Fat lot of good make up will do you. I thought towards her as I opened the door of the bathroom and walked passed my mother…or whatever she was to me. At this point, I didn't really care.

Before I could make it to what little of a safe haven I had in my bedroom, Liza stopped me.

"You're coming with us tonight." She said as more a command than anything.

I leaned against the doorframe. "No I'm not. I don't want to go." I said with a sad sigh.

"Yes you are. Now get dressed we leave in ten." She sauntered off to her bedroom.

I didn't feel like an argument so I went with it. I pulled on a pair of my nicest jeans, a white spaghetti strap shirt, and a pair of sandals. I left my hair down and didn't bother with makeup. For where we were going, this was considered formal wear.

We were walking down the long, dark, frightening streets of the bad part of Chicago at 9:15pm on a weekday. I was getting many suggestive stares from the men standing at the corners.

Of course, Renée and Liza thought they were whistling at them, therefore pushing out their chest and swaying their hips more when they walked by the disgusting men. I folded my arms across my chest and walked with my head down behind them.

We finally made it to the bar. I made a beeline for the booth in the back corner of the bar away from everyone. This was my usual spot when I came here with these two middle aged women, which was probably the better half of the week.

"Hey, Bella." Rosalie Hale, one of the bar's two waitresses, addressed me. She wore the typical uniform the bartender/owner required; short, black skirt with a tight, low-cut T-shirt that had the bar's logo on it. She also wore higher than Mount Everest red heels.

"Hi, Rose." I mumbled as I picked at my nails and sat back in my seat.

"The usual?" She said, holding the tray in her hand under her arm.

I nodded. "Thanks."

I closed my eyes and listened to the horrible music that poured from the speakers of the stage.

Three…two…one…

"Hey, sexy." Aro, the bar's middle aged manager, sat down next to me. This was typical.

"I'm still seventeen, Aro." I told him, my eyes still closed.

"So, you're close enough." He said, scooting closer to me. I felt his lips on my neck just under my ear.

I shifted away from him. "It doesn't matter. I don't want you. Ever." I opened my eyes, searching the room for help.

"Oh I don't believe that, honey."

I stood up. "You should." I walked towards the exit. It didn't matter if Renée and Liza knew I was gone. By this time, they'd probably forgotten that they'd brought me.

So do you all want me to continue this one? Of course, it would be 2nd priority to my 2 stories I'm currently working on.

Leave me a review!

-Kelli