I sat on my bed, looking out the window. Well, it's not really a bed; it's more of a bunk cot. My orphanage can't really afford nice beds, but I didn't care. All I did, every day, was sit on the top cot and looked out the window. I'm not sure what I was looking at. But I did it every day, every hour, every minute for seven years.

Something sharp poked my side. It startled me out of my staring and I screamed. My face twisted into a scowl when I saw fuzzy black hair poking over the side of my blanket. "Alice," I growled. "I told you not to do that!" Alice just giggled and rolled her eyes. She grinned and jumped onto the bed with me.

Alice was my only friend. She was five years younger than me, so she was much smaller than me. In my personal opinion, she looked kind of like a modern Snow White. Her skin was, well, snow white. Her eyes were a beautiful light brown, golden in the light. I looked at her inky black hair and sighed. Last year she decided that she was going to try and cut her own hair. It didn't end well. Before, it had been long and wavy, reaching past her waist, making her look like a wild child. Now it barely made it past her ears, and her cowlicks made it point in every direction.

"Bella, I told you that you shouldn't scowl so much! It makes you look like a grumpy old man!" Alice complained. She never shut up.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Alice, I told you not to call me Bella! My name is Isabella!" I hated the nickname Bella. "And why are you on my bed? I told you not to get on here."

Alice made a face at me. "Chill, Izzy. I just came to tell you that there's a family coming soon and Mrs. Hendricks said to be on your best behavior and not be antisocial." She looked me up and down. "You need to change into something nice. Make a nice first impression, you know?" She jumped down and landed gracefully on her feet. Another reason she annoyed me. I was almost as graceful as a drunken elephant.

I climbed down using the ladder, and went to stand by Alice, who was rummaging through the closet. I tuned out her complaints by thinking about the day Edward had left. I remembered how much it killed me, and I couldn't help but hope that the new family would ignore Alice and me.

A pink dress was shoved into my face. "Wear that!" Alice chirped. I gave her a look. "No. I'm not wearing a dress, and there is NO WAY I'm going to wear pink." I rolled my eyes. "Dummy."

Groaning, Alice turned back to the closet. For me, she picked out a white long sleeved v-neck and a black knee length skirt. For her, she picked out a bright blue sundress. Something seemed to occur to her and she turned to me slowly with an awful grin on her face.

"What?" I asked, cautious.

"Izzy-bella needs to wear a…" she started to pull out something from behind her back.

Oh no.

"BRA!" She shrieked. Laughing like a maniac at my horrified expression, and waved it over her head.

I heard footsteps behind me, and heard someone snort. "You two are such freaks. Seriously, you're playing with bras?" I hate that nasally voice.

Lauren pushed in front of us to get to the closet. She was so stuck-up and Alice and I hated her. She even had the nerve to section off a part of the closet, call it hers, and take all the pretty clothes. If anyone tried to wear one of "her" outfits, she screeched at them for hours and made their life miserable for a few weeks. I speak with experience.

"Buzz off, Lauren." Alice warned.

Lauren turned her piercing gaze onto her. "You little brat, don't talk to me like that."

Drawing herself up to her full height of four feet eleven inches, Alice squared her jaw and crossed her arms. Lauren let out a snort and flipped her hair. I watched, both amused and anxious.

"Don't waste my time." Lauren hissed as she picked out the frilly pink dress that Alice had tried to get me to wear a few minutes earlier. She stormed out, undressing on the way.

I whipped my head around and stared at Alice. Her expression was black. "I hope she gets adopted today." She spat.

I sighed. "Calm down, Alice. Ten year olds shouldn't get so mad."

I thought I heard her mumbling something about knowing where I sleep, and so I shut up. Alice shoved the bra into my arms and pushed me into the bathroom. "Get changed fast, Isabella. I still have to do your hair and makeup."

"You're not doing anything to my face or hair, Alice." I mumbled.

I heard a whatever in response.

I took off my clothes slowly, my body on autopilot. My mind had drifted back to the day Edward left. How many years had it been? He had left around June that year, and I was eight at the time. That means it had been seven years. With a jolt, I realized that he would be almost seventeen by now.

I shook my head to get rid of my thoughts. I looked in the mirror, filled with self-loathing. Everything about my face I hated. Everything about me, in general, was hated by me.

My face was heart shaped and white. Almost whiter than Alice's, it was basically see-through. I suppose it could be pretty, but not until I was in my twenties. I sincerely hoped that by that time my acne would have gone away. All over my face angry red dots stood out, like bee stings. My eyes were dark, so dark they made me look like a demon sometimes. It didn't help that my eyelashes were thick and made it nearly impossible to see my demon eyes. My nose was small and slightly round. My lips were dark red, so it constantly looked like I drank blood.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from the reflection. I tried brushing my hair, but the brush just got caught. Maybe Alice wasn't so crazy when she cut her hair. My hair was as dark as my eyes, and wavy enough to cause me grief. It stopped around my mid-back, and was constantly greasy. I washed my hair everyday, but it just wouldn't get cleaned.

I looked down at my body. I was apparently a late bloomer, a very late bloomer. I was fifteen years old and just starting puberty. I was short for my age, and that didn't do flattering things for my figure. I was skinny, but I still had obnoxious pockets of baby fat on my stomach, butt, and thighs. I wanted to get rid of them but I lacked the motivation to work it off. Through my shirt, I looked like a lumpy marshmallow. I looked away from myself with disgust.

There's no way anyone would want to adopt me.