Disclaimer - I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.

All the characters are human.

Their words, mostly noises

Ghosts with just voices

Your words in my memory

Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are

I lay down on the cold ground

And I,I pray that something picks me up

Snow Patrol - Set The Fire to The Third Bar

Chapter 1

It's when I wake up for school that morning that I just know; this is not going to be a good day.

Whether it's the ever screeching alarm or the fact that my bed is feeling particularly warm and inviting this morning, I'm not sure.

They say you should always listen to your instincts; they know more than you realise. So I should listen to them now I guess, but ever the critic, I don't.

I yank the covers off and let the shock of the chilly September air startle me awake.

"Hey girly, you going to just sit there all day or are you going to get ready for school?"

I roll my eyes in feigned annoyance as I grin up at Natalie who's standing on the other side of the room, hands on her hips, lollipop on her lips and looking dressed already.

For who - I'd never know. It's not as if anyone else could see her.

"Yes Natalie," I answer back as I make my way to the bathroom, "I am going to sit here all day."

"Har-har you're so funny Bella," she retorts.

"Of course I am Nat, how else am I going to brighten up your day?" I ask through the bathroom door as she laughs in response.

As soon as I am done, I follow the scent of bitter coffee downstairs and pour myself a cup; letting its sharp taste fuel me with some much needed energy.

"Hey honey," my mother addresses me with a small smile that fails to reach her eyes.

Behind her is a picture – it's all smiles and clasped arms as my mother and father embrace on their wedding day. Huge smiles grace their faces and I am once again shocked at how much she has aged.

Well how much they have both aged.

Her face, so young and youthful in the picture, is now a split image of wrinkles and graying hair.

A pang of regret resonates against my chest as I try to think of how stressful it must have been raising me with my uh- problems.

"Hey mom," I try to smile back, attempting to clear my thoughts, but it must have come out as a grimace as her face morphs into a frown before she turns back to the breakfast she's preparing.

She never asks how I am anymore, I wonder with a sigh.

I always thought that she might have been tired of me, but I always reprimanded myself for thinking that.

She is my mother.

She couldn't get tired of me - could she?

They say that it's the things that they don't say that hurt the most. I don't believe that is necessarily true. It does the opposite actually. At least for me it does. It fills me with hope. It makes me hope that maybe I could fix whatever it is that has severed the ties that we never did have. Because when a person doesn't outright say it, you don't actually know what's going on in their heads. Here you are foolishly thinking the best when it could be the worst.

So you're stuck there conjuring up all these reasons because who knows; maybe the real reason is right behind you, lounging on the sitting room couch waiting to leave with a lollipop set between her teeth.

I have learnt not to acknowledge her presence in front of my parents.

8 Years ago

Up in her bedroom, a ten year old girl is having a tea party with her best friend Natalie. The two ten year olds giggle as imaginary tea is poured and sipped.

"Why thank you Lady Isabella," Natalie says in a poor attempt at a posh accent as she sets down her lollipop. The pinky finger of her hand holding the cup is pointing upwards and the two girls burst into giggles yet again.

"You are very welcome Lady Natalie," I answer with a bow. We are both dressed up in our best princess dresses with the biggest smiles on our faces.

"Bella honey," my mother enters my room with a small smile, "Are you alright? I heard laughing."

"I'm fine mom," I giggle again and turn to Natalie who is all big teeth and goofy grins. "I am having a tea party with Natalie. Would you like to join us?"

Catching sight of my mother's alarmed expression wipes the smile from my face as she makes her way towards me.

Eyes wild.

"Natalie? No Natalie does not exist baby don't say that!" She shrieks.

"Sh-she is mom, she right here-"

"No she is not!" She interrupts, "She is imaginary and you are too old for imaginary friends Isabella, so stop this right now!"

My mouth trembles as she leaves the room, her hands tugging her hair and without a second glance back at my shaky form. The sound of the door slamming is like a trigger as the tears spill down my cheeks.

That was the last time I mentioned Natalie in front of any of my parents.

I shake my head as I try to clear my thoughts yet again catching sight of the coat rack.

It's empty.

Which means that my father has already gone to work; he's almost never at home.

"Just got a call, the boss needs me to do an extra shift," he always says. But whether that is really true, I don't want to know.

8:11

When I check my phone, I know that the coffee hasn't kicked in yet as it takes me a few seconds to register how late I really am, but when I do, I quickly scoop up my empty plate, wash it, pick up my bag that I had already packed the night before and rush out yelling a quick bye to my mother.

As soon as I'm outside, I catch sight of my pickup truck and can't help the smile pulling at the corners of my lips as I jump into the baby that is my truck with Natalie laughing as she trails behind me.

I ignore her and roll my eyes as I turn the ignition and shoot out to school.

She doesn't seem to take the hint as she continues to chat and laugh aimlessly at my expense and with each second she does so, my annoyance grows with it.

That is until we reach the school and I can't take it anymore.

"Yes Natalie, it is hilarious laughing at me, but some people have school to go to which you don't since nobody can see you anyway!" I burst out, hands shaking, face red.

I am instantly hit with a wave of regret and I know that words can't be taken back, but I try anyways, "Nat, I'm sor-"

"Don't even bother," she interrupts. She's all pent up anger, arms folded and cold eyes and I'm left wracked with guilt as she disappears.

Maybe it's the stress of fighting with Natalie, or being late, or my guilt towards my parents that made me more acute to the other voices I have been hearing my entire life. But as I leave my truck and the familiar faint mumbling I had grown accustomed to make its way to my ears, I ignore it like I usually do.

And instead of fading into the background like usual, the voices grow louder.

"It's going to ha-"

"That's why she should liste-"

"No-"

The voices, they turn to screeches as I try to cover my ears in vain. But it persists; and like hot iron, it burns its way into my ears as hot as blazing fire. It pounds its way into my skull and is relentless in its quest to smother me with pain.

I don't know how I can feel it in the midst of all those voices, but when a sharp pain shoots up from my knees, I know that I have fallen onto the cold, damp ground below.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that other students are surrounding me. Most in amusement at the expense of the school freak having such a public meltdown.

But I just don't have it in me to care.

It's these voices.

They're so loud; and they would just not stop.

Stop.

STOP.

"STOP STOP STOP!" I hear a distressed voice screeching and it takes me a while to realise that the panicked voice is mine.

I have never reacted like this before.

Never.

But my voice is nothing compared to the flurry of voices that are still pounding against my skull.

These voices are the last thing I hear before everything goes black.

I knew it wasn't going to be a good day.