This was originally on my other account, but I put it on here to make it easier:)

If the writing looks like this it means that they are speaking French. Also her thought process will be in French, but I won't underline that. I'm not going to put too much actual French in the story, because, well, I don't speak it.
Enjoy. :D

Bonjour, Bella.

Bonjour, Je m'appelle Isabella. I prefer just being called 'Bella'.


My parents lived in Forks when I was born, but when they split up, my mother and I moved to France to live with grand-mère. I was only one year old at the time, so French is my first language.

I've been to America a few times to visit my father, but the language barrier was difficult to work through. We both tried learning each other's primary language, but it was very confusing.

I still don't know much English. At school they taught Italian, not English, like most of the other schools. I know the basics like, 'Hello, how are you?' and 'I am fine, thank you', but that's really where my knowledge of the language stops.


I looked out the window of the car as we drove to the airport. The cool breeze was calming, it distracted me from what was about to happen and soothed me. The fresh spring air in the morning was one of my absolute favorite things in the world. I would miss it.

I was moving from France to live with my father whilst my mother and step dad travelled. He taught baseball at schools across the country, trying to encourage kids in France to play it. It wasn't very big at all in France most people don't know how to play and he wanted to change that.

My Dad lives in Forks, Washington. It's one of the rainiest places in all of America. The weather was one of the reasons why my mother left. She hated the rain, but she also hated the weather when it was too hot.

Like her, I hate cold weather, so I don't know how I'm ever going to cope with rain every day.

I can't let myself to regret the choice to live with my Dad because I knew that it would make Mum and Phil (My Stepdad) happy.

We arrived at the airport - I was trying to hold in my tears. I didn't know how I was going to by living in America. Learning the language was the main thing that I would have to get through, but I would miss Mum and Phil and my whole life that I have made in France.

I had to stop thinking about those kinds of things, or I would cry in front of Mum. I had already promised myself that I wouldn't do that.

All three of us got out of the car and walked into the airport.


"Bella, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's not too late to change your mind." My mother said to me as I prepared to get onto the plane.

"No, Mum. I want to do this." It was lie, but I had been saying so frequently that it was beginning to sound true.

"Tell Charlie I said Hello." She murmured quietly.

"I will. I love you, Mum."

"Aw, Bella," She was right on the verge of tears. "I love you, too."

I looked at the big clock on the wall. I had to leave now or my flight would leave without me.

"Goodbye, Bella."

"Goodbye, Mum."

I gave her one last hug and started walking away.

"Wait, Bella. Here, take this. Open it on the plane."

She handed me a thick purple package with my blue bow on top.

"Merci, Mama."

"Go! Or you'll miss your plane."

I nodded and started walking away from her. The walk away from my Mum seemed so long to me, even though it was just a few meters away from her.

I gave my ticket to a man waiting by a big, blue door. Whilst he was inspecting my ticket, I turned back to my mum, and blew her a kiss.

I reluctantly walked through the door, and onto the plane.


When I sat down in my seat, I opened my gift from Renee. I carefully undid the ribbon first; it was my favourite colour, so I planned to keep it. I didn't take as much care with the wrapping because I was so eager to see what was inside.

I had already guessed that the present was books, so when I opened it I was not too surprised. What surprised me though, were the name of the books.

The first book on top was a dictionary that translated French Words into English. 'Français à l'anglais Dictionnaire.'

The second was named 'Basic English; Lesson 1, 2 and 3'
And the rest of the books were the same series, going up to lesson 10.

On the bottom of the pile were a notebook and a large packet of pens to take notes with.

The minute I get to America, I'm going to send my mum a thank-you email.

I couldn't think of a more helpful gift. Learning English was the biggest obstacle that I have to face (which I keep reminding myself of), so hopefully the books would make it a little bit easier. I had looked at the local bookstore for books to help with my English, but I didn't find anything at all. I have no idea how my mother could have found them, but I was so grateful that I didn't care!

Whilst I was looking at my presents, a stewardess was filling is in on emergency drills, but I didn't feel the need to listen because I've already heard it before during my previous visits to my father.

In the dictionary, I looked up the word for airhostess. It took a short while to piece the individual words together, but I ended up with the words together but I ended up with, 'Waitress of the air'. Yes, I think that's right.

I began reading my books and taking a lot more notes.


When the flight ended, I had filled up almost the entire notebook – although the notebook didn't have too many pages. I had memorized a few things and written down a lot, but I still wasn't sure if I was even using the right pronunciation, but I was trying my best.

Some of the English rules that I had read about in the books were never even heard of in France. I tried not to dwell onto all the little things. I was just hoping that I would be able to remember how to say 'hello' rather than how to differentiate 'who' from 'whom'.

By now I was in the airport, awkwardly holding my bags whilst trying to also hold all of my books and a jacket.

I got about halfway to the door when it proved to be too hard to manage, and I ended up dropping everything. My pile of books fell to the ground with a large 'thud'; my pens began rolling all over the floor and loose pieces of paper flew all around.

My face went a crimson red, and I prayed that no one had seen the incident. I looked around, and people did see.

I detangled myself from my bags and went to pick up the pieces of paper – they had travelled the furthest away from me.

A boy who looked close to my age came over to me. He had blonde spiky hair, and light blue eyes.

"Would you like some help with that?" He asked.

I only recognized the words 'would you'; the rest of it was completely foreign to me. Was it really going to be this hard for me to learn the language?

"Err, I... err…Pardon?"

"Excuse me?" He asked politely. I recognized that immediately. He was saying 'Excusez-moi?'

I scrambled for the right things to say, but I was under too much pressure and couldn't think of anything from the top of my head. I settled for something that the most likely would not understand.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak much English. I'm from France."

He knelt down and helped me pick up my things. So, was that what he wanted? He wanted to help me! I was instantly grateful. He gave me the pieces of paper that I had dropped and then went over to pick up my pens. I went over to my books and put them in my bag along with my papers that he had handed me. He gave me the pens and I messily threw them in my bag and zipped it up.

"Me." He said, pointing to himself. I looked up at him. I guess he was trying to make communication as easy as possible.

"Help?" He pointed to himself, then to my bags. I nodded. I think he was trying to say something like 'help' or 'carry'.

"You." He gestured towards me.

"With these?" He pointed over to my bags again.

I was almost positive that he was trying to help me carry my bags. He had a friendly face, so I didn't hesitate to answer.

"Yes…" I thought for a moment trying to translate the word 'please'. The word was right at the tip of my tongue. Finally, I got it. "Yes, please."

He called out to who I guessed where his parents; they were a few metres away. "Mum, Dad, I'm just going to help this girl with her luggage." He gestured towards me and I waved without making eye contact.

"Okay, be back soon. Your brother's flight lands soon."

He took my larger bags and I took my smaller ones.

"My name is Mike." He said in trying to be polite, he looked at me to see if I understood his words.

"My name is Bella." I noticed the huge difference between the ways we introduced ourselves. He said it so easily and naturally, but I sounded so strange when I said it. I have rarely spoken English out loud. He smiled, and I was guessing it was because of my accent.

When we walked outside of the airport I was greeted with the unwanted cold, rainy weather. The cold breeze made me shiver. I looked around, and took in my surroundings.

"It's so green!" I exclaimed a little too loudly; then I realized– no one has any idea what I was talking about.

"Bella?" A familiar voice called.

"Papa?" I asked confused, not knowing where he was.

I turned around to see my father dressed in a police uniform. His badge read 'Chief Swan.' He looked almost the exact same as last time I saw him. The only difference was his hair was shorter and he now had a moustache that matched his hair colour.

"So you'reBella Swan?" Mike said in realization. I nodded even though I wasn't completely sure of what he was saying.

I walked over to my dad. "Bonjour, Papa." I gave him a kiss on each cheek. It mustn't be a typical greeting here because my Dad looked really confused. I pointed to the space between my nose and my lips. "Moustache." I giggled.

He laughed. "Well, yeah…" he muttered.

"I was just helping Bella with her things…" Mike mumbled awkwardly.

"Thank you, Mike." My father said giving Mike a firm handshake. "You know, Bella is actually going to Forks High, would it be too much trouble if I asked you to help her out a bit? She's shy and also not very good with English…"

"Yeah, I'd love to help!"

The foreign words were lost on me. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Well, I should be going; my parents are waiting for me. Nice meeting you, Bella." He said to me. "Goodbye, Chief Swan."

"Wait, Mike." I walked over to him, gave him a kiss on each cheek and said; "Thank you."

He blushed slightly. "You're welcome…" he mumbled. He walked back into airport, smiling slightly.

I turned to face my dad. On the plane I used my English dictionary to try to translate a whole sentence.

"Will we home now?" I asked, trying to imitate an American accent. I smiled slightly in achievement.

Dad looked slightly confused.

"Is that right?" I asked; I even became a little confused, I was sure that was right!

My Dad thought for a moment. "Um… yes."

"How long is the trip?" I asked, hoping that this sentence made sense.

"About… an hour?" He said it like a question, and I didn't know how – or if – I should answer it. I decided to keep my mouth shut and not speak too often unless I was completely sure of what I was saying.

Ok, Bella. Just wait one hour. Just one hour until you can cry all you want and end this 'happy' act.

Just an hour.

Please Review, I wanted to know if you like it, and what you want to happen! And If I have any mistakes, please let me know!

Xxx