Chapter two! This is un-betad. I'll be posting chapter 3 tonight then probably done for the week. Thanks to those who have read already and a special thanks to my first follower eamc2009. Warning for an unmarked flashback!

I don't own twilight and please keep your hands INSIDE the vehicle.


Five months.

Five.

Months.

My mother went on to complete her story. The seven girls who had been caught had named the others. Eighteen in total had been charged with either attempted murder or aiding in an attempted murder. Some of them were only fourteen years old.

They had tried to point the blame at me. They spun the same story that had instigated the attack, but relations with someone other then your soulmate wasn't illegal. Frowned upon, but not illegal. Still, my mind kept going back to the same thing. I had lost five months of my life. I'd almost lost my life all together.

I would have to repeat my junior year. Because my birthday was in September, I had always been one of the youngest In my class. Now I would be an 18 year old senior rather then 17. At least no one would know. I flashed back to the conversation I'd had with my mother. I know my choice would hurt her, but it was the best option I saw available.


My mother was helping me to apply lotion to my dry, un-casted legs. The only good thing about being in a coma is I got to miss out on the casts. They were, blessedly, removed the day after I woke up. I had screws in my right leg and pins in my left hand, but other then a slight limp there would be no signs of it.

She had been quiet all day and I knew something big was coming.

"Bella baby... there's something we have to discuss."

I stayed silent but nodded. My throat was still a little raw.

"The police gave us some options. You can stay here and go back to school... The girls who did this have all been arrested. It's safe here."

She made a choking sound in the back of her throat.

"Or... or you can move up to Forks with Charlie. They offered to change your name. It'll come with no repercussions since... well..."

Her eyes darted down to my wrist where the red tattoo lay and I knew. I was allowed to change my name because no one was looking for me. My soulmate was dead.

"It's not common, I guess. But they know how this stuff can follow you. When Phil brought it up, they agreed. With social media and such, Isabella Swan is likely to be everywhere. You could start over there."

We remained quiet as she applied the rest of the lotion but I knew what my answer would be.


I knew what my mom had wanted. I had always been strong for her. Taken care of her. She wanted me to say I was strong enough for this. Strong enough to go back. I probably would have, but a name change was just too good of an offer.

Soulmates were today's God. To go against the grain was blasphemy. It's why my mother had run all the way to Phoenix with me. It's why both of my parents claimed I was their niece. With social media so easily accessible, people would be dragging the name Isabella Swan through the dirt all over the country. This was my chance to be someone else.

The name on my wrist had dictated so much of my life. I didn't want it to dictate anymore.

From the time of birth, soulmates were celebrated. It was a gift. An honor. To know that one person who could love you above anyone else. Each person was born with a name stamped on their wrist and wore it with pride. It was common to abstain from any kind of contact with the opposite sex in waiting for that one person who would complete you.

My mom was one of the few who hadn't.

Renée and Charlie had grown up together in Forks Washington. Mom's wrist had read " Phil Dwyer" and Dad's "Tina Price". Mom was 23 when she had her "freak-out" as she calls it. She began to fear she would never meet her Phil and convinced Charlie that they should wait together. He was hesitant, but had his own fears and agreed.

Only weeks later, mom became pregnant with me.

She left Forks, traveling to a small town in Phoenix where she claimed her husband would be meeting her. She lived there until giving birth to me. After that, she moved to Phoenix claiming I was her niece and her sister had passed away.

I spent summers with Charlie who had a story much the same, but no one had known the truth until Phil. Charlie's wrist had turned red ten years ago. He'd never meet his Tina.

In a way I think he had it much worse then I did. My name had always been red. My soulmate had always been dead. Dad had years to wait and hope before the death of Tina.

Now, I was going home to the only person who could truly understand me and my red wrist. And I was going home as Bella Dwyer.


The airport took much longer then I had anticipated. I had a new card stating where each bolt in my body was and had to stand still as they ran a metal detector wand over each one.

My new ID with my new name was scanned and tossed around more then I was comfortable with. At least it was legal.

My mom had cried as we hugged goodbye which almost made me late and the flight had been long and tedious. I sat between a new mother with an infant and a man who "fell asleep" on my shoulder, obviously forgetting you can't grope in your sleep.

Finally, after a second run in with security, I was waiting in the lobby at the airport in Seattle. I spotted Charlie and made my way over. He looked the same as ever. He was tall with the same brown hair and eyes that I saw in the mirror each day. He also had an outdated mustache and wore a shirt that said Forks PD across the front. A black wristband was cuffed tightly around his right arm.

Most people wore their names proudly. It was considered "odd" to cover them up. Only those whose partners had died or many who were hiding their sexuality wore cuffs. I fingered my own purple cuff and wondered which the town of Forks would assume about me as I reached Charlie.

He gave me an awkward hug and asked about my bags before we headed out to his cruiser.


"Good flight?"

That's one thing I liked about Charlie. He was simple. Like me. He had never been one for conversation and only really made small talk for my sake. My flight had been awful, but I knew dragging him in to conversation would make us both uncomfortable. Instead I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Good. That's good."

I smirked and nodded again.

"Yeah."

We drove the rest of the way home in silence.


When we pulled up to the house, an old rusted truck sat in the drive.

"Is someone here? I didn't know you had company."

Dad smiled and shook his head.

"It's for you. School starts Wednesday and I figured you wouldn't want to ride around in the cruiser." Charlie blushed and I smiled. I had gotten that from him.

"Charlie, you didn't have to."

He shook his head.

"I did. I owe you that much."

I knew what he was saying. He did it every summer. He was ashamed that he'd never claimed me as his daughter. I gave him an awkward hug and whispered in his ear.

"Thanks, dad."


My room was exactly as I'd left it. It hadn't been changed since I was ten, so that wasn't saying much. The walls were purple and the sheets pink. Judy .B. Jones and the babysitters club lined the book shelves and a flower print rug sat on the floor.

There was a computer and a desk that hadn't been there before. The computer looked old, but it was sweet of Charlie to think of it. My things that had been shipped sat in the corner in boxes. I placed my suitcase on the bed and began the process of unpacking my room.

I replaced all my tween chapter book with my favorite classics, packing the former away to send to goodwill. My few clothes and a couple of pairs of sneakers were packed away in the closet and the pink bed set was replaced with a black and silver one.

Deciding there was nothing I could do about the walls, I collapsed in to bed, removing my cuff and placing it on my night stand.

I laid there for a moment staring at the name that had started it all. Even though the letters had always been red, I still felt the same pang of sadness when I saw them. It was sad to know that I would never find that true love. That all consuming 'one'. I could still have a relationship one day if I found someone else with a red wrist, but I knew it wouldn't be the same.

Red letters had changed my life.

Curling up on myself, I mourned for Edward Masen.