Bella's slumber is disturbed by the loud racket coming from downstairs. When her eyes crack open, she sees it's just a little past five in the morning and Charlie is up. The sun has yet to rise so all she can feel is the darkness and the cold seeping in through the window. She sighs heavily, pulling on a sweater as she walks down the hall. She knows better than to mess with the heater so she simply bears the frigid cold.
By the time she steps foot in the kitchen, Charlie has given up on his attempt at breakfast and turns his glazed eyes over to his daughter.
"Make some damn breakfast!" he slurs, shoving her as he walks by, heading down to the living room.
This week has been particularly bad. He took four of his vacation days, which means he spends the day drinking and when she comes home, he's far more violent. Not he isn't when he has a normal schedule.
Bella rubs her arms, wincing over the bruises, and walks to the fridge, taking out the eggs, bacon, and orange juice. The smell is overwhelming and it's the one thing she enjoys. Charlie never interrupts her when she's cooking, only because he doesn't want to burn the house down should he hit her and oil spills. It was a bit far-fetched to her but she didn't complain. Anything that kept her from being any more bruised.
When she's done, she sets his breakfast in front of him and quietly walks back to the kitchen, eating her food. Mornings are usually the only time the house is quiet. Any other part of the day is usually filled with angry rants, threats, or arguments with his girlfriend. She doesn't live with him, but she might as well.
Bella washes her plate quickly and rushes upstairs. It was only the second week of school but she had already decided that this year, her final year, she would be leaving early, and going to the public library. She had excellent grades and she was going to do everything she could to get a scholarship away from Washington. Anywhere was far better than this.
By the time she showers and dresses, it's just a little past six. Great timing. Bella gives herself a smile in the mirror, much like she does every morning. Pretend the pain isn't there and she won't think about it.
She nods to herself and grabs her bag, heading out the door. As she passes Charlie, she sees he's, again, passed out. The beer bottle is empty and the plate of food is untouched.
A sigh escapes her and then she's outside, heading for the truck he'd bought her. It wasn't out of the kindness of his heart; he didn't want to be driving her to the grocery store and back.
The truck is old, far older than most cars in Forks. And it's distinctive rusty color and sputtering engine usually alerts everyone that Bella Swan is nearby. She slides into the truck, shutting the door and turning it on, allowing it to warm up. As she waits, she scrolls through her phone at the messages she'd received from the group chat. A group made up of Lauren, Jessica, Alice, Angela, Tanya, Irina, her younger sister, Rosalie, Mike, Eric, Tyler, Emmett, Jasper, and Edward.
Bella doesn't understand why she is even apart of it. Tanya has become queen bee in the last two years and has "dethroned" Bella. Not that she really cared for it. Bella was glad when someone else took over. She didn't, and still doesn't, like the attention.
The messages range from clothing to parties and the hangovers they were experiencing to the summer that has finished. Bella shakes her head and turns the screen off, starting the truck, heading down the quiet road.