The Leather Jacket
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight nor the characters mentioned in it. I do not make money from this work. All rights belong to Stephanie Meyer
Author's Note:
Here is one of my last attempts to write a Twilight fanfiction. I hope you enjoy.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: I understand that some things are very triggering to people. This story very well may contain quite a few of them. I am not trying to be insensitive here but I will not post a warning beyond this one. It ruins the plot if you do. That being said, I am willing to answer in a private message whether or not your trigger is included thus far.
All chapters will be in Bella's POV unless otherwise noted.
Chapter 1:
Sighing, I slowly opened my eyes to greet another morning. As I blinked the sleepy film from my eyes I could tell it would be a day filled with the same monotonous routine that had plagued me for the past year since moving to this small little town filled with small minded people.
As I lay here contemplating if I want to force the routine on myself today or lay in bed I let my mind wonder about how I came to be here. Why I forcibly sent myself to this hell hole and why I continue to stay.
My mother, if you stretch the definition of the word as far as imaginable, was not cut out to take care of herself much less a kid. I learned very early in life how to take care of myself. I've been cooking my own food for as long as I can remember, learned around the age of 7 how to pay the bills when they came in the mail, and how life is not what everyone cracks it up to be.
My father had no clue where I was located nor did I know that he cared. I never knew about him until two years ago.
He is the chief of police in the little miniscule town that we both now reside in. My mother and him were married many, many moons ago and that's where I come from. I guess when she found out she was pregnant she started to feel the walls closing around her and took off with me when I was about 3 months old. According to him he was never able to figure out where we disappeared to. To be as scatter brained as she is I will never quite understand how she managed to evade him all these years.
Finally, two years ago he managed to track us down after seeing her in the background of some news report he was following on TV.
That's how one very sunny morning I woke up to my mother screeching her head off and some man yelling. Since this was not a really rare occurrence I hadn't thought much of it at first. I had continued to sketch on my pad and hoped they would shut the hell up soon. After it continued for a while I started to get concerned though. So I quietly put down my drawing and walked silently down the stairs to peak into the living room.
There stood my mother and some man dressed in the most hideous flannel and corduroy outfit. Seeing as neither of them noticed me I decided to listen in before making my presence known.
"She is coming with me. I think that she has been denied the chance to know me long enough." Was the first sentence I heard out of fugly dressed guy's mouth.
"Charlie, she doesn't even know you exist. There is no way she will willing go with you to that horrible town I saved her from. She's happy here with me and that is where she will stay. I do not see that you show up here demanding things you have no right to." Was the retort that my mother provided.
Well at least I now knew the man's name which was something. Judging from what little I had heard I guessed that the man was my father but wasn't sure why he was there. As far as I had ever known he didn't want me.
Listening in again I heard him telling my mother how she had stolen me away and it didn't matter how happy I was here that I would be coming with him. That we both deserved a chance to get to know each other after all this time. If I decided in the future that I was happier here I would bring me back.
Well at least he's thinking about how I feel a little bit.
At this point I figured it was about time to make my presence known to the occupants of the room. I mean they are having a conversation about me. Shouldn't I be involved?
As soon as I had entered the room completely they both went silent. My mom was looking at me with a glare that promised I wouldn't like her once we were alone again. Charlie or I guess I should call him my father looked at me as if I hung the moon which was kind of freaky considered this was my first time meeting the man.
I watched as his eyes scanned me for what I now know was the first time. I saw his eyes widen as they took in my long black hair with emerald green ends that reached my waist, my ripped jeans, and the black hoodie that covered my frame. I was the total opposite of my mother. Lastly I saw him come to a rest at my grey eyes. The ones that everyone always assumed were contacts but as I gazed back I saw the same eyes staring back.
That's the beginning of my long trip to Forks, Washington just a few weeks later. How I forced myself to leave the only home that I had ever known to get a chance to know that man that is my father.
Pulling myself out of my thoughts I decide that I have to get up and get moving no matter how much I don't want to.
At least the monotony would be broken up a little considering it's the first day of my last year in hell, I mean high school.
Standing up I go to the small bathroom that I share with my dad and turn on the shower. Looking in the mirror I see the heavy black smudges under my eyes and the crimson smeared across my lips. Damn, I need to remember to take off my makeup before bed I thought to myself with an annoyed sigh. Jumping into the scalding shower I relax into the burning of the water and take time washing away the last few days.
After I'm done I step out and look into the mirror again. Staring back is someone I haven't seen in over half a decade. The me that I left behind so many years ago. Disgusted at my train of thought I quickly walk back to my room, thankful that my dad isn't home so that I didn't have to get dressed in the small bathroom.
After throwing on my normal outfit of ripped jeans, a black hoodie, and leather boots, I hurry over to my computer desk to apply my heavy makeup which consists of tons of black eyeliner and some sort of dark red lipstick.
Feeling as confident as I could with my look I headed down the stairs and out to my car. Now he is my pride and joy. I am not much of a car person but I think most people appreciate a classic. Diablo, as he his aptly nicknamed, is a 1969 Trans Am with a matte black finish. I stroke my hand lovingly across the door frame and step inside. Throwing my messengers bag in passenger seat I cut on the radio, crank it up, and head to hell.
Author's Note:
Here is the first chapter. I hope you enjoy and look forward to posting the next one soon. Please feel free to review.
I do ask that you stick with me for the next chapter where we get more into the story but I believed some back story was in order for the beginning as to not have to keep doing flashbacks later on.
Ivory Ash.