A/N: ever. Please leave a review. Tell me how you feel even if it's a flame.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight at all! I know it's a crime against nature but Steph M. owns it.
"Ding", the sound brings me back and forces me into the harsh reality. My heart stops as I pick up the plastic stick. The butterflies in my tummy erupt as I prepare myself for the worst but pray for the best. I sit on my bed and force my eyes upon the object in my hands.
"This can't be happening," I mummer knowing that it is. My hands shake as the truth of the moment weighs on me. The tears flow unceasing until I am left a hiccupping mess. My hand drops the offending object and moves to punch the wall. I survey the damage knowing that I'm nowhere near being finished. My body moves in a frenzied panic destroying everything in my path. Torn clothes, broken jewelry, and perfume bottles litter the floor, as my screaming sobs echo thought the empty house. As I look around the room, I notice my reflection. I could no longer recognize the girl staring back at me. Her dark terror stricken eyes were not mine, her sickly pale skin was also not mine, but that girl was me. My blood ran cold as I lifted my shirt and felt the undeniable baby bump. I was going to be a mother.
My body is paralyzed as I wonder how I am going to raise this child. How am I going to love it when there was nothing left in me to love-he took it all. I jumped when I herd the front door slam. I quickly inspect what is left of room and rush to clean it up but he is already at the open door. "What happened in here?", he demands surveying the damage. I yank my shirt down willing Charlie not to notice but he does. He raises a questioning eyebrow and fear catches my tongue and holds on tight. I swallow thickly begging myself to speak but I can't. I bend down and hand him the pregnancy test.
I look down my eyes instantly attracted to the carpet. The air is thick with tension, as I hear my father take a sharp breath and begin to mumble, "Isabella Marie Swan, what the hell when did this happen?". I look up to see the disappointment in his eyes. He sighs and hands me my cell phone, I shake my head vigorously "no". He trusts the torturous instrument into my hand and gives me a pointed look. I know what he wants me to do. I dial the number with sweaty palms. My stomach twists in knots with each ring.