NB: I do not own Twilight. This story is my own re-imagining of the Twilight story. I've tweaked the vampire mythology - if that's not your bag, please kindly choose another story to read.

Enjoy!

BELLA POV

My red cloak billowed out behind me like a ship's sails as I fought against the prevailing wind. My wicker basket contained the food I had bought from the local supermarket. There was nothing on my mind except for one thing. Getting home. I had to get home as quickly as possible. Charlie hated it when I dawdled. It made him even more reluctant to let me out of the house. If he had got his way he would have driven me to the supermarket and back but I wouldn't allow it.

"Dad, I want to walk." I had said in a stubborn voice.

"No. Bella. I won't have it. You know how dangerous it is out there. Do you want to be killed?" he replied angrily, making the vein in his forehead pop out like a worm writhing under his skin.

Not this again. Charlie and his endless talks on danger. I rolled my eyes. "No I don't want to be killed. And I don't want to die of boredom either but I will if you keep me cooped up in here." I said in an exasperated tone.

Charlie's expression intensified. "You will take this matter seriously, young lady. This isn't a joke."

"Dad, I do take it seriously," I said in a pleading tone. "But I want to feel the ground beneath my feet and I want breathe in the fresh air and stretch my legs."

"You take gym class at school, don't you? Isn't that enough exercise?" he argued.

"A smelly gym hall is not the same as being outdoors," I snapped angrily.

I wasn't going to let him win this argument. I had already sacrificed too much. I was going to fight for every little scrap of freedom I could get. I scowled at him with my arms crossed.

Charlie's face softened as he considered my stubborn stance. "Bella, I'm only considering your safety –"

"Well, can you please consider my sanity?"

He sighed and looked defeated. He knew he was going to lose this one. "Fine. You can go out. But only in the daytime and only for thirty minutes maximum."

"Thirty?" I spluttered. "That's like going out the door, walking for ten minutes then turning back home again. I want fifty."

"I say forty,"

"Forty-five?"

"It's a deal," he smiled, reaching out his hand to shake on it.

I uncrossed my arms and reached for his palm. "Thanks, dad," I grinned.

I shook his hand then let him return to his newspaper that he was reading at the kitchen table. I turned to run upstairs feeling elated with my hard fought victory.

"Oh, Bella?" he called out.

"Yes, dad?"

"The Rules still apply for going out," his voice rang out from the kitchen.

I stopped in my tracks and ground my teeth in frustration. Those godforsaken Rules. Ugh. "Okay, dad," I tried to say in a breezy tone with my teeth gritted together.

I hated The Rules more than anything. In my head 'The Rules' was a phrase with capitalized letters. They were specific and had to be obeyed as it if were law. Charlie would not let me out of the house at all if I didn't follow them.

The most important Rule of all was the cloak. I had to wear a red cloak at all times whenever I was out of the house. It was bright, pillar box red and the length of it almost touched the floor. I was allowed to button it up or wear it open. It had a hood which I wore whenever I was outside. The cloak was the bane of my existence. I was teased endlessly over it at school. I only had to walk through the hallway to hear someone snickering behind their hands or pointing and laughing at me.

It marked me out as a freak, not that a cloak was necessary for that. Everyone knew my face. They knew I was the daughter of the crazy police chief who had suffered a mental breakdown a few years before my mother Renee died.

It wasn't easy coming to live with Charlie when mom died but I never realised just how fraught it would be until he sat me down and explained to me exactly what his Rules were. There had been screaming matches over the cloak. Why did I have to wear it? Why did it have to be this garish red colour? Why couldn't I go to school and dress like normal kids my age?

Those were questions whirring in my head at the time but I had more pressing concerns that I couldn't bring up with Charlie. Like why was he so paranoid? Why was he going to such extreme lengths for my safety? Why was he caging me up like a bird that couldn't stretch her wings?

I couldn't talk to anyone about it. No one else had a dad like mine. I could still remember my first day at school. I naively thought I could blend in as just another anonymous face. Keep my head down and not be noticed. That seemed perfectly reasonable to me. I could throw my cloak into the passenger seat of my truck and walk around like a normal student.

I remembered walking into my first class, it was an English Literature lesson. I was walking towards an empty chair when I saw a girl with light blonde hair smiling at me. I smiled back at her, relieved to see a friendly face. Her smile twisted and became mangled as I saw the true intention behind her smile.

Oh. She was laughing at me.

My heart sank and I cursed myself for returning her smile. She must have thought I was some kind of village idiot.

The rumours had been flying thick and fast weeks before my arrival. There was talk that the CPS had investigated my father before he could take full custody of me. That was just one nasty rumour floating amongst the high school crowd but there were many others.

The spiteful, sneering creature that had laughed at me was called Lauren. If spreading malicious gossip was an Olympic sport, she would definitely have been gold medal winner. She had gone to great pains to inform everyone exactly who I was. Lauren's description made me sound like I was part of the Addams Family. I could handle her making me out to be an oddball but I hated to hear anyone talk badly about Charlie. He was my dad after all.

On that same day, I overheard my future nemesis, Lauren, talking loudly in the lunch cafeteria. "You'll never guess about her dad. He's never been the same. Not since…you know what," she said, tapping the side of her forehead ominously.

"What happened?" a girl asked, full of curiosity.

Lauren mouthed the word 'breakdown,' which made the girl nod in understanding. My lip curled up in disgust.

"He has all these weird theories and will tell them to anyone. He's a total basketcase, you know." she said in a snotty, superior voice. "Living in the woods because he prefers to be alone. Crazy old coot – I'm surprised they haven't sent him to the loony bin,"

It was like something had snapped inside of me. I couldn't remember what happened after that. I suppose you could say I saw red. Apparently, I had some kind of adrenaline rush and slapped Lauren squarely in the face which caused her to bleed profusely from her nose. I do remember the blood that splashed everywhere – the nauseous smell almost made me bring up my lunch.

I was hauled into the principal's office immediately and Charlie had to be called in. I was dry-mouthed with panic when I realised my cloak was still lying inside my truck. The principal wouldn't let me leave for even one moment despite my desperate pleas. He probably thought I would make a run for it. Which was probably true. I had broken the Rules on my first day and Charlie was going to be hopping mad when he found out.

When Charlie entered the room he coolly appraised my appearance which somehow made me feel worse. Charlie managed to convince the principal that my violent behaviour was out of character and assured him nothing like that would happen again. The principal was sympathetic – he had probably read my file and noted my recently deceased mother – and I was dismissed for the day and taken home with Charlie.

I hoped the cloak issue would be forgotten in the wake of my violent outburst but that was sadly wishful thinking on my part. When he got home he was apoplectic with rage. Worse than anything I'd ever seen. I was worried he would have a heart attack if he didn't calm down. From then on I kept my promise to wear the cloak at all times just like he said. The only exception being gym class. It's funny because it made me hate gym class a little less.

I was suspended for a week for my behaviour and anyone who might have been a potential friend was scared away by my crazy behaviour. "Like father, like daughter," I would hear in the corridor as I walked past.

I tried not to let it bother me or get me down. If I was in their shoes I might have acted in the same way. High school is brutal and self-preservation is the key to survival. It's a lesson for life really. The world is full of Laurens. It was up to me to dig deep and not let shitty people like that affect me.

This was my life so far. I checked my watch and saw I had eight minutes left. I couldn't run in this damn cloak and had to settle for walking briskly. The house was in a clearing in the woods. Charlie had built it after he had his breakdown. It had helped him to recover, gave him a sense of purpose. He wanted to be far away from everyone else. He didn't think it was safe to live near other people.

I say the word 'house' but it wasn't really a house. I refused to call it a cabin because it made me sound like some country livin' hick. I couldn't call it a cottage because it didn't seem pretty enough to be called a cottage. Perhaps with some vines growing on a trellis and nice flowers planted in the front it could earn the title 'cottage' but until then it had to settle for being called a 'house'. A very well built wooden house I must say, for a living space built deep in the woods. Charlie's friend Billy Black had called friends from his reservation to help dad build it.

Charlie's constant worry about safety didn't really make much sense to me but I didn't question it. He talked about 'safety' with a religious fervour that almost frightened me. I knew it had something to do with his breakdown but that was a topic that was off-limits, discussion-wise.

Not that I ever wanted to sit him down and discuss it. I couldn't even imagine how that conversation would start. "Hey, dad, remember the night you went crazy? That was some freaky shit, right?" The memory was uncomfortable for all concerned. I stayed with Charlie despite his strict and forbidding ways. He was all I had left after mom died and I loved him dearly.

The light was beginning to dim as I reached the edge of the woods. I always tripped over the tree roots and had to hold the folds of my cloak with one hand while clutching my basket with the other.

The darkness was creeping into the spaces between the tall trees which cast tall shadows along my path. I carefully trod over the sprawling roots of my favourite tree – which I called Old Timer because it looked so old – and knew it wouldn't be long until I was home.

The woods were quiet which didn't bother me usually but I didn't like the darkness. I glanced behind me quickly. I saw nothing but shadows and surrounding trees. My mind was playing tricks on me. I took another backwards glance. Everything was still except for the wind rustling the leaves. Is paranoia infectious? What was I expecting to see?

The house came into view and I sighed a breath of relief. I could feel that my heart had been hammering in my chest.

My hands were hot and clammy as I fumbled for my house key and strode through the door. I put down the basket and hung my cloak up.

Like father, like daughter, I thought to myself. I really am going crazy.