Forks

The car ride with her father from Seattle-Tacoma International Airport to her new home in Forks was, for the most part, uneventful. Although Bella had spent every summer with her father in this small Washington State town up until the year she had turned twelve, she found that now she and her father's interactions were somewhat… awkward, to say the least. In truth, the two of them had not remained closely in touch with one another since her last visit, so it was no wonder that, as they drove, the space inside the Crown Victoria remained completely and utterly devoid of conversation.

Bella knew that even though her parents had been divorced for almost sixteen years, Charlie had always, and probably always would, care for her mother. Bella did not know exactly what had happened to cause the breakup, but Charlie had never re-married and as far as she knew, never even sought the company of another woman. More than likely, she imagined that he threw himself into his work as Police Chief of Forks to keep his mind off of his reality. Thinking about this, along with the thought that her father's one true love was now cold inside the ground, brought on a sudden and deep-set depression. Bella could not even imagine how painful her father's situation must be. She suspected his pain was even worse than her own, since he had never stopped loving Renée, even when she had stopped loving him in return.

When they eventually pulled in at 32 Maple Street, Charlie finally broke the silence.

"I hope you like it here," he said, getting out of the car, "I know your mother never cared for it much, but..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. Bella, who had followed Charlie's initiative and gotten out of the car after him, watched as a pained expression suddenly struck his youthful, yet wise face. She felt tears begin to well in her own eyes. It was easy to see why her mother had fallen for this man. Although he was in his mid forties, he had a kind, gentle face and boyishly light, strawberry-blond hair; features that, in youth, had probably been doubly striking.

A knot lodged itself in her throat as she became aware that she longed desperately to run to her father and throw her arms around him, tell him, "Everything will be alright. You've still got me. I'm a piece of her after all, and I'm here for you. You're not alone. We're not alone." For she too felt like Charlie; the one person she truly cared about was gone from this earth and now… nothing.

Deep down, she wanted to console him, and she wanted to feel his warm, paternal touch reflecting and assuring her of that same security and love, but she refrained. Because on the surface she felt that she and her father had become too estranged for such intimate interaction so soon after reuniting for the first time in five years.

Hauling the two big bags that contained all of her possessions into the house, Charlie led his daughter immediately upstairs to her room. The interior of the small, yet quaint, little space was bare, obviously having not been given the proper attention in preparation for her arrival. It was understandable though; there was no way Charlie could have known his daughter would be moving in with him upon his return. It had not been decided until after the funeral that he would become her new legal guardian. Renée had not written a will, but it was obvious that Bella's father should inherit custody over his own flesh and blood rather than a boyfriend who was not much more than a child himself, and who was always out of town because of the minor league baseball team of which he was a member.

The bed had been made with a plain white comforter, and a single pillow in a white case lay fluffed at the base of the headboard. The walls hinted at yellow paint, though the dusky evening light filtering through the old aluminum blinds made it hard to tell exactly what color they were. In the far corner next to the window, stood a richly stained rocking chair, and piled upon the seat was a small stack of photo albums. A shelf on the opposite wall held a few books, but for the most part it was vacant.

"Sorry it's so empty," Charlie said, lowering the bag that he carried onto the wooden floor, "We'll go and find some things to brighten it up soon. Promise."

"Okay Char … Dad."

As she quickly corrected herself, and the last word escaped her lips, she immediately felt awkward. But she noticed a minute change in her father's posture as his face brightened, albeit ever so slightly. Noticing this difference, her embarrassment at calling him "Dad" (a word so foreign and unusually distasteful coming from her mouth) immediately fled her, and she began to feel a little more comfortable with the unfamiliar presence of her father.

Appearing lost for words, Charlie quickly made to excuse himself. "I'll be downstairs if you need me. Goodnight."

It seemed as if he had wanted to say something more, but before he could tack on a forced "sweetheart" to the end of his sentence, he turned and exited the room.

Although she was not a hermit, Bella enjoyed her privacy, and was thankful that Charlie had never been one to hover. Her mother had always been so intrigued with every aspect of her daughter's life that, at times, it could be a little suffocating. Now though, Bella would give anything to have her mother's prying, curious eyes peeking over her shoulder. The realization that she would never again see those eyes sent a bolt of pain through her heart, and within seconds she found herself weeping uncontrollably.

Sitting on the bed, she lay back and just cried; cried like she had never cried before. She missed her old life, she missed Phoenix, and besides her mother, the thing she missed the most was the sun. From past experience, Bella knew that rain was a big part of the northwest Washington climate. She had been in Forks for no more than ten minutes and she already knew that the lack of sunshine on this little town was going to significantly destroy her mood. As if she needed more reasons to be miserable. She hated the cold and the damp. Why anyone would willingly choose to live in a place that was so unbearably soggy all year round was beyond her. Her disposition was so unfair. Not only was her mother taken from her but so was the warmth and the sunshine. The climate in Forks compared to that of Phoenix was, quite honestly, a complete compliment on the way her life had been turned upside down in the span of only a few days.

Eventually, before she even realized, Bella lay fast asleep atop the comforter.

The next day was Friday. As Charlie had taken the entire week off for the funeral, allowing a few extra days for the proper amount of time to mourn, Bella and Charlie took the day to begin reconnecting, and to work on making her room a bit brighter. After they visited Forks High School to register Bella for classes, they took a trip to the nearby town of Port Angeles, spending the rest of the afternoon searching for bedclothes, curtains, furniture, etcetera, to bring a little more life to her bedroom.

Charlie spared no expense on whatever his daughter chose. She, in turn, tried to keep in mind that her father was not made out of money, but each insisted that the other do as they please. Bella tried to remain modest with her purchase choices, not feeling that it was proper to take advantage of her father's generosity. He on the other hand, insisted that she pay no attention to the prices of the things he was buying for her. The truth was, he missed his daughter, and he desperately wanted to make her happy. What he did not realize was that Bella had not grown up with a father figure around to dote upon her. He did not realize how awkward it made her feel to take and take and take and give nothing back in return.

They enjoyed each other's company though, and the day passed quickly. That evening, Bella had a room in which she felt comfortable, and Charlie was satisfied with his daughter's happiness. They even had a fairly easy-going conversation over takeout pizza that night at dinner.

Yes, things were slowly becoming more comfortable in the house. Even though the pain of loss was ever present in her heart, and would likely stay with her for the rest of her life, she was finding it much easier to cope. Having someone else there to grieve and share in her pain and feeling of loss was much more bearable than having to suffer alone.

Saturday passed without incident. On Sunday morning, Bella awoke to an empty house. Charlie had told her that for him, working on the weekends was a rare occurrence. It more than likely would never happen… unless there was an emergency.

Bella would have dismissed his absence as nothing more than a trip to the grocery store or some other such errand, except that his gun belt was not on the hook near the back door and the Crown Victoria was not in the driveway. She immediately began to worry.

The town of Forks had a population of 3,120 people and now that Bella called it home, twenty-one. There was no crime there. Maybe there was a domestic dispute once in a while, but for the most part, the town was fairly calm. The residents, themselves, did a lot of self-policing, and really only when something became out of hand did they involve the actual police department. But incidents were so few and far between that it was a surprise Charlie had a job at all. Bella guessed there were other duties he had, for example if there was a car wreck, or someone needed assistance with something, but for the most part, his job was not all that dangerous.

What if he's at a standoff with a bazooka-wielding gunman? Bella had never been one for optimism.

What if there's a hostage situation? He said that if he worked on the weekends it would only be for extreme emergencies…

Then she began to debate whether or not she should try to get him on his cell phone. If he were in danger, maybe she would be bothering him. He might get distracted and get shot by the gunman. But then again, there might not even be a gunman. Of course, if she called him, he could always ignore it if he were busy and call her later. But what if he died and could not call her later?

As these and other thoughts raced through her panic-muddled head, she decided that calling him was better than sitting at home worrying whether or not she was going to be parentless later that afternoon. She did not want to lose her father, especially when her mother's grave was still so fresh back in Phoenix.

She dialed the number and he picked up after only two rings.

"Hello?" came his familiar gruff tone.

"Dad!" The relief in her voice was too obvious.

"Oh, hi Bella. Is everything all right at home?"

"Yeah, I just woke up. But you weren't here and I noticed your gun belt was missing, so I knew you were on duty, and you said the only time you were on duty on the weekends was if there was an emergency and I started thinking you were at a standoff with a gunaman with a bazooka…" her words were flying from her mouth about a million miles a minute.

"Bella! Bella, calm down. Don't let your imagination get the better of you. Everything's fine."

She could hear voices in the background through the receiver. Some were louder than others, but they all seemed to be repeating the same word over and over.

"Then what's going on, Dad?"

"A boy went missing last night. His parents called and reported it. I know the family, and it isn't his normal behavior to just disappear. So we've got a search party trying to find him before I file an official missing person's report."

"Oh. Um… should I… should I help?"

Bella was not used to the small-town, tight-knit community of rural America. However, she knew that her suggestion was only proper.

"No, that's okay. Just stay at home and relax. We've got it all under control out here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. Just relax today. Ill be home soon."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

"Uh huh. Bye."

There was a click on the other end of the line and it went dead.

So, Charlie was okay. She felt a little lighter knowing that her father was not on the verge of being riddled with bullet holes, and resolved to spend the rest of her alone time sitting on her butt watching TV.

She made herself a lovely lunch of frozen French fries baked in the oven and a toasted egg sandwich with bacon. She had not made herself an egg sandwich in a while, and had forgotten just how much she liked them. It tasted really good. She still had the touch.

At about 2:30 in the afternoon, Charlie came home, looking a bit bedraggled.

"Hi, Dad," she greeted him at the door just as he was slipping off his shoes.

"Hi."

There was a moment of silence. Neither of them wanted to speak first, but Bella eventually took the initiative.

"So… did you find him?"

"Yeah. We did. Thank goodness."

"Was he okay?"

"Yeah. A little shaken up though."

She knew her father was trying to censor himself by the shaky tone in his voice; hide the news that was, what he deemed, too mature for her young, innocent ears.

"Dad, I'm seventeen. You don't need to shield me from the real world. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. So, what happened to him?"

Charlie inhaled deeply then let out a long sigh before explaining.

"We found him in the woods, laying in a bramble patch. Tyler Crowley. He was barely conscious, but he was alive. I don't know what happened to him after that, because the ambulance took him away to the hospital in the next town over. I'm waiting for them to call me with the report."

Bella was not sure how to react as she stood trying to absorb the information. Things like this seemed to be on the news all the time in Phoenix: murders, kidnappings, and disappearances. But in a town this size, it just seemed strange, even to her. The atmosphere just felt tense, as by now, the whole town probably knew, and was worrying and praying for this boy.

"He's your age, Bella. In fact, he would have probably been in your classes at school tomorrow if he weren't in for a long visit at the hospital."

"Oh…" What was she supposed to say to that? Then what her father just said quickly sunk in and she felt a wave of terror begin to brew in the pit of her stomach. It was not as bad as the night she found out about her mother, but it was pretty intense.

School. She had to go to school tomorrow. That was not something she was looking forward to, and up until this point, she had completely neglected to worry about it. She had so many other things on her mind that it never even crossed her thoughts.

The expression of fear on her face must have been obvious, because then her father asked, "Are you okay?"

She hesitated, and then nodded stiffly. "I forgot about the whole 'school' thing."

"Oh," he blew a dismissive raspberry and patted her on the shoulder. "Bella, you'll be fine. Everyone around here knows each other, and you'll fit in right away. Trust me."

"That's just the point, Dad." Shrugging him off, she turned to him, her voice more frantic. "Everyone here has known each other since forever. How can I compete when they all have their own inside jokes and secrets and…"

"Bella. Calm down. You're just like your mother, worrying about every little thing." His face became soft, tender, at the mention of Renée. "Everything will be fine. Most people around town know me. They know you're here already and are looking forward to meeting you."

"I don't know…"

He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder then made his way to the kitchen. The banging of pots and pans was soon heard echoing through the house.

I want to let you know now, that this story is going to be drastically different from Stephanie Meyer's version at some points and at others will be much the same. In the chapters where it is totally different, I will explain my logic so that you can understand why I am taking the approach that I am taking.

That being said, I will explain the reason why I opened the story by killing off Bella's mom: I don't think it makes sense that, in the original, Bella sends herself to a place that she hates, just because she wants her mom to be able to travel around with her much younger boyfriend. People are selfish by nature, and if I were in Bella's position, I would stay in the home in which I was happily living. So I gave Bella an actual reason to be miserable, an actual reason for being FORCED to move to Forks when she doesn't like it. Constant rain is not something that is worth getting depressed about, especially when it's mentioned at least THREE TIMES IN EVERY FREAKING CHAPTER.

I will also explain why, in this chapter, I had Tyler go missing and then be found in the woods: I can't tell you much only that it's important to the PLOT: an element of storytelling that Miss Meyer has no idea how to properly develop. I can't reveal the mystery of this yet though, as, even though you can probably already guess if you're familiar with the original Twilight at all, I want to lead into the revealing of my mysteries, instead of flat out telling you everything. Again, something Miss Meyer needs to learn to NOT do when writing stories.

Also, I probably should have said this in the first chapter, but obviously, I do not own Twilight. I may be using the same names, but I am not ripping off Stephanie Meyer's ideas. I wouldn't even want to because they're not original or special in any way shape or form. Besides, this is an Anti-FanFiction. I don't think copyright infringement should be an issue.