AN: Hello everyone and welcome to my very first attempt at fan fiction! I hope that you will all share with me your thoughts and opinions on my story, and I accept any type of criticism as long as it's constructive! Just a few things to note before we begin. One is that I do not currently have a beta or any type of editor to double check my works so there will probably be a few mistakes here and there, so feel free to point them out to me so I may correct them. Second, I am currently a student so I will not have a steady update schedule, so I ask you all to be patient. I will update as quickly as I can, but school is my first priority right now. And lastly, a lot of my stories tend to deal with dark subject matter such as violence, death, rape and other subject matters that may be triggers for some people, so if any of these things distress you, then I ask that you read my stories cautiously, as you know what you can or can't handle.

Well now that that's all taken care of, I hope you enjoy my first chapter! See you all at the bottom :)

Someone to Lose

Chapter One: A Timely Intervention

EPOV:

Letting the mahogany lid fall gently closed on my baby grand, I decided to call it a night and head to bed. Not much progress had been made, but that was no different than usual. These days I found it harder and harder to come up with anything original, or at least something that didn't sound too much like a funeral dirge. Swinging my legs over the side of the padded wooden bench I let my stiff limbs stretch out, grimacing as both of my knee joints cracked in protest.

We had moved to the dreary town of Forks when I was only five years old; me, my little sister Alice, and my Mother Esme and Father Carlisle. My father had been an up and coming surgeon in Chicago when he had gotten the call from Forks Memorial Hospital offering him the position of chief of surgery; an offer that he could not refuse. So there we had it, we became the newest family in a town in which most of its current occupants could trace their lineage back to its founding fathers.

Faded moonlight streamed in from the patio windows across the room, looking out onto the old fashioned wrap around deck that my father and I had spent an entire summer building when I was only fourteen. The house itself was a replica of an older plantation manor, complete with large bay windows, grand entrance room and walk out balconies connecting to every bedroom. My mother, Esme, has always been a huge fan of history and, combining her degree in interior design with her passion built our new home from scratch.

A study just off the main wing of the house had been turned into my music room. My baby grand piano sat in the far corner while various bookshelves, drafting tables, a couch and matching chair took up the remainder of the open space. Glass patio doors took up the entirety of the back wall, connecting my music room to the porch steps that led to the half finished backyard. A portion of the our backyard was dedicated to mothers herb and vegetable garden, a waste of space in my opinion seeing as how Esme Cullen didn't have a green bone in her body let alone a green thumb. She had yet to be successful at growing anything in the wet patch of dirt, which on the wetter days, was nothing more than a mud pit if you asked me.

The rest of the backyard was left empty, only a small decrepit gardening shed which one day would be turned into a greenhouse if mom had her way, which she usually did, accompanied by a pitiful looking fire pit surrounded by wooden chairs with the paint chipping off completed the current set up. It was almost laughable how pitiful it looked, but we had spent so much money on the house that even though we had been living here for twelve years, we couldn't yet afford to do a full makeover on the rest of the property. Mom and Alice both hated the backyard with a passion, but I kind of liked it the way that it was. They would often find me sitting out on the rocking chair just outside my studio with a book of music paper, trying to figure out the next stanza in a song. Wild and untamed the forest encroached further and further onto our property as the years went on, new plants and saplings growing where once there was just empty space, reminding me of the domination nature held over the world. It was raw and real, unapologetic in a world where we were always trying to make things perfect.

Rubbing the back of my head I glanced up on the clock on the wall surprised to see that it was a little past midnight, the time having gone by faster than I would have thought. It felt like I had been playing for no more than an hour or two when in fact almost five hours had passed since I first sat down at around seven that evening. A vague memory of hearing my sister Alice coming in the house having been out in Port Angeles before going upstairs for the night flitted through my mind before I shook the though free.

Making a quick circuit of the room turning out all the lights that my mom had doubtlessly left on for me, I made my way towards the door, flicking the main light switch when I heard a small thud coming from the back deck. Strange noises were fairly common place living on the outskirts of such a small town; all kinds of small critters or even the occasional deer found their way onto our property more than we would care for, but something felt different about this I made my way back over to the glass doors, holding my breath as I peered out into the darkness that consumed everything.

Nothing moved.

Shaking my head I laughed internally at my sudden onset of paranoia, before quickly double checking the locks on the door before turning around and heading to bed. However, before I could make it five steps I heard the same deep thud once more, followed by keening wail that I knew would haunt my dreams.

My heart suddenly took off like a jack hammer pounding in my chest as I raced over to the door, my hands fumbling with the lock as I tried to unlatch the door. Finally managing to twist the deadbolt free I stumbled onto the back porch eyes rapidly scanning the darkness for the cause of the cry. It took only a few seconds to locate the source of the sound, and another few seconds to wrap my mind around what I was seeing.

Lying mostly out of sight half on the cold ground and partially on the bottom half of the porch steps was a girl. Covered in only a ripped blue t-shirt that clung to her soaked figure, her pale skin seemed to glow with a surreal light in the moons harsh glare. Her legs were streaked with mud and her bare feet were a bloody mess. Dark hair covered her face from my gaze and I watched in stunned silence as her small hand trembled in the air as she slowly raised it, only to let it fall ungracefully back onto the solid wood of the deck, making a dull thud.

Spurred back into action by the small sound I rushed over to the girl, grabbing her around the waist and rolling her onto her back so she was no longer lying face down on the wooden steps. Sucking in a breath I hissed out a curse as I saw the extent of her injuries. Deathly pale and soaking wet the girl's entire front was covered in blood, the soft blue fabric of her t-shirt stained red with it. A small jagged rip in the right side of her shirt revealed the source of the blood. I wasn't a doctor but even an idiot knew a stab wound when they saw one. Whipping off my shirt with a curse I balled it in my hands before pressing it to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Knowing that I couldn't leave her here lest she bleed out and die, I did the only thing I could think of; I screamed for my dad.

"DAD!" I yelled, using my free hand to bang on the side of the house, the irony of such an act not being lost on me. I continued my assault, both verbal and physical until I saw the light inside of my parent's bedroom turn on, and heard his and my mother's concerned voices calling out to me in confusion and worry.

"I'm outside! Hurry, someone's hurt!" I cried out, my breath coming in ragged pants. Hours seemed to pass before my father was rushing to my side even though I knew it took only a couple of seconds to go from his bedroom on the second floor to the back door of the house.

Crouching beside me my father, still in his pajamas, took in the situation with practiced ease. His steady hands replace mine over the temporary bandage my shirt had become, and it was only then that I realize they are trembling, not only my hands but my entire body is shaking and I can't seem to get myself to stop.

"Esme!"Carlisle's strong voice calls out. "Get me my tool bag from my office, and then call the police. Tell them we have an injured girl here, and are in desperate need of an ambulance."

Shaking her head quickly in ascent my mother runs from her position in the doorway back into the house, and I listen to her footsteps as she races back up the stairs to reach my father's office where he always keeps a complete first aid kit as well as a few other medical supplies in case of an emergency.

With an efficiency born from a career in health care my father quickly assesses the poor girl, quickly feeling her neck for a pulse, nodding to himself when he finds it present. Next he lifts the makeshift compress off of her abdomen and inspects the wound muttering under his breath medical terms that I wouldn't be able to understand if I wasn't going into some form of shock. Looking down at the girl, I couldn't help but notice just how tiny and fragile she looked laying there. Her head was tilted to the side, her hair still covering her face in wet, matted strands. For some unknown reason the fact that I still hadn't seen her face bothered me. Reaching out being careful not to interfere with whatever my father was doing, I gently started to brush her hair out of her face, and froze.

The face staring back at me with glazed eyes was not one of a stranger, but one that I was intimately familiar with. It was a face that I had seen almost every day since I was seven years old. It was a face that I saw every day at school, a face that I had seen just six hours earlier. It was the face of my sister's best friend; my best friend Emmet's little sister; Isabella Swan.

"Fuck," I whispered, not able to take my eyes off her. Her usually deep brown eyes were glazed over looking back at me but not really seeing anything either, like she was stuck somewhere in her own mind, unaware of what was going on around her.

"Dad?" I whispered, hating how my voice trembled, making me sound like the child I suddenly felt I was.

"Hmm?" he muttered unconsciously, not taking his eyes off the wound he was gently probing. When I didn't respond right away he looked up and his eyes widen in shock as he too discovered the identity of the girl he was trying to save.

"Son of a bitch!" It was rare to hear my put together, always the professional, mild mannered father lose his shit and curse. If the circumstances were different I probably would have found myself laughing as he sprouted out a creative string of expletives that would have had even the most foul mouthed high schooler blushing, but as it were, it only made the situation that more real.

"Esme!" he cried out, a new desperate edge to his voice. "I need you now!"

My mother came whipping out of a the house a few moments later, a large black medical bag in her hands, switching on the porch light as she came out to join us. Motioning for me to put my hands back on my shirt and to apply pressure my father started to dig through the bag, tossing things he didn't need at the moment off to the side, and placing what he did need in his lap.

The harsh yellow light coming from the bare bulb hanging on the side of the house brought Bella's injuries into drastic relief. Her skin was so pale that she almost looked like she was made of wax. The blood that had drenched her front was beginning to dry and crust, turning her blue shirt black wherever it had made contact. Dark marks spotted her arms and neck, indicating where bruises would soon appear. I felt my stomach lurch and had to fight back a wave of nausea as I realized some of the marks were in the perfect shape of hand and finger prints.

A strangled sound had me glancing up to where my mother was standing. Her face had gone ghost white, her caramel hair a scattered mess around her head as she stood in her soft pick night dress trimmed in white lace, one are wrapped around her middle as if she was in pain, the other held up to her mouth as she looked on in horror at the sight before her. Bella had been best friends with Alice since they first met in elementary school. She had spent countless sleepovers at our house, and my mother had always been fond of her. To see her in such a state must be just as heart wrenching for her as it would be to see one of her own children in such a state.

I watched as my mother choked back a sob and came to her knees beside Bella's head, reaching out with one shaking hand to gently brush the side of her face. Almost on instinct Bella turned her head into my mother's touch, as if seeking more contact, but her eyes remained cloudy, unable to focus on anything. I doubt that she was even aware that she had done so. Letting out a deep breath, I couldn't help but take in the scene before me. I knew that in a better world I would have stopped myself from looking, but all the evidence was pointing to one thing, and I suddenly had to know if my worst fears were founded. Mentally preparing myself, I glanced down towards Bella's other half.

Her feet were covered in mud and dirt forming a hard crust around her ankles with leaves and other forest waste clinging to the souls of her feet. The mud and dirt stopped beneath her knees leaving untouched skin until it came to her inner thighs which were streaked and smeared with blood originating from the apex of her legs. My stomach revolted violently at the sight, and it took everything I had not to start vomiting right there beside her. As it was it was a near thing, and as I gained control of my stomach I looked up to meet the tear streaked face of my mother, the look in her eyes confirming that which was now only becoming evident to me.

So, what do you all think? Is this something worth perusing? Please review and let me know!