(Author's note: Just a quick note to say, no, no vampires in this one :) The next one will have them in, but this is just a classic, sad love story, with humour in too. :D Hope you all enjoy it, and please review. xoxo)

Chapter 2 – The letter.

Two days prior to my mother's funeral I received that dreaded letter. I hadn't wanted to open it, since it was probably a long laundry list of all the terrible things I had done to her as a child. Could she blame me and Rosalie for how we had acted? Well she did, that much was for sure, and I just couldn't bare reading her last words, that would probably go something like "I'm sorry you weren't better daughters, if I had to have one-do-over it would have been never to have had either of you". She'd let us know countless times we weren't good enough. Oh boy did we know that!

22 years ago

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELLA!" The whole room elated, as I glacially stepped through the doors of our living room, into a crowd full of family and friends. Rosalie had dressed me in a hot, pink fairy dress, that bunched up at the bottom like a tutu and had a picture of an angel on top part. She plated my hair into pigtails, covered my legs in thick, white tights, and given me my first pay of little silver heels, training ones for 6 year olds. I should have been happy. I should have been excited that my dad was throwing me my first big birthday party, even though he'd just lost his job, and our finances had been anything but glossy. There was a huge, pink, white and silver princess cake that had been done to perfection. It looked delicious, and elegantly put together. No one in our family were great cooks, so I knew my father had to have had it made specially, which would of cost him. The table had been covered in pink and silver silk clothes, with pictures of angels and fairies, and princess' all over, and there were pink balloons at every corner of the room. There was a feast of gorgeous party food, all the kinds of things kids would dream of eating, pink jelly, mini sausages, mini choc-chip cookies (which were my favourite), vanilla and chocolate ice cream, sausage rolls, and finely cut mini sandwich's which had been shaped to look like stars and hearts. So much had been put in to make this a great 6th birthday, but I still cried. Not even the sight of hundreds of pretty wrapped presents under the table was enough to bring me happiness on this sad day. And why? Because she left again, but this time she told us she would never be coming back.

"There arguing again" I said to Rosalie as I tugged at the hem her brown skirt, and cushioned my head into her arm.

"Shhh" She said wrapping her arm around me, and pulling me close. "Don't listen to them" and then without warning she shot up off the bed and rummaged through the draws of our room, searching desperately for something. I watched, curiously, as she pulled out our tiny silver torch and came running back to our bed with huge smiles across her face. "Get under the covers" She ordered, beaming with excitement. I looked at her for a second, a little puzzled, but the child inside of me quickly shot into exhilaration. I jumped up and wrapped the sheet across me as she climbed in the other side, and lifted the sheet above our heads creating a little secret cave. She lit the torch, as we sat facing each other, legs crossed, and knees touching. Then she delved into the most riveting story about magical lands, and mystical creatures. I ooed and ahed as she went on, the story so fantastic I'd completely forgotten that our parents were having a scream fest below us. And when the story finished, happily of course with the mystical princess marrying the dashing, young dark and handsome prince and living happily ever after, I felt satisfied and full of happiness again. It wasn't hard for her to be happy in my presence, and force that smile she always did to protect me from the pain and anguish she was really feeling. But even she couldn't stop the hurt my mother caused straight after.

Our mother came bustling through out bedroom door, tears streaming down her red, angered face and yelled at us to get out from under the sheets.

"STOP PLAYING GAMES!" She yelled, pacing back and forth in the room.

"Bella..." Rosalie whispered into my ear, as my face was scared and stunned by my mothers outburst of anger. "Go into the garden, I'll be out in a minute" She ordered, trying to me away from the scene.

"NO! Stay where you are both of you" Mother screamed again, her face hardened as though we'd just something really naughty and we were about to be punished.

"What is it mommy?" I asked, shoving my thumb into my mouth to suck, like I did when I felt nervous and scared.

"I'm leaving" She said bluntly and with no feeling behind her hardened eyes. "I have to get out of this shitty town! It's suffocating me, to the point I can no longer stand to breath here. I'm sorry but...I just can't be your mother any more. It's too painful and too difficult, I can't handle it. You'll be all right here with your dad. I'll keep in touch by phone and letter, but please try to understand I have to leave!" She said, with not even a single tear in her eye. I could feel the cold stab of water that now poured from my eyes, freezing into my cheeks. Rosalie had stiffened on the bed, full of anger and hatred, and refused to beg her to stay. But how could I not? I climbed off the bed and ran after my mother, wrapping my arms around her legs as she pulled me behind her.

"GET OFF BELLA!" She screamed trying to pry my little hands away, that were now clawed into her skin, like a crab that wouldn't let go of his meal.

"Please mommy!" I begged. "Please don't leave us again mommy. I promise I'll be good. I promise I won't play games. If you stay I won't suffocate you any more. Please mommy please" I continued, crying hysterically at the thought of losing my mother whom I loved so much. Finally, with brute force, she pried my hands away and pushed me to the side.

"I have to go! No matter what you do it won't make a difference, I just can't be here with you any more" And then she left, as my father, Charlie, came running up behind me and cradled me into his arms. I cried for hours and hours, pain seething through every part of me. She'd left because of me. Her words 'I just can't be here with you any more' kept ringing through my head like a broken record. When I finally stopped crying my father put me to bed, and kissed my forehead.

"Don't worry princess! Everything is going to be all right. You'll see. We can manage just the three of us. The three musketeers" He said with emphasis on the musketeers, to try and make it sound as though it were a fun adventure, rather than a tragic loss.

"Will she come back for my birthday? I'm turning this many" I said gesturing with my hand the number 6 with exaggeration. It was a big deal for me, every year that I grew older, it was like a big huge step to becoming a grown up. My father let out a saddened smile, and brushed a strand of my hair back as he spoke.

"I don't know princess. I hope so" And then he kissed my head again, turning my bedside lamp off and exiting the room. I listened that night to the sniffing and cries that came from Rosalie's bed. She too was upset, but I felt too exhausted to run over to her and within seconds I was fast asleep dreaming of my mother returning on my birthday, with presents and sorry smiles in hand.

As I stood crying at all the faces who were so happy to celebrate my birthday, Rosalie knelt down to took my face in her hands.

"Smile Bella. It's a happy day. Everyone here loves you so much, show them you love them too and smile. Your a princess today after all, and what do princess' always do?" She asked, as though she were my teacher, but still with a soft, sweet tone.

"They always smile" I replied, and she grinned at me willingly, as I raised the corners of my mouth to the whole of the room. I enjoyed the day after that...but my mother would not return for 7 more years.

Present day

"You really should open the letter Bella" Alice encouraged, the morning of the day of the funeral. "It might not be what you think"

"Have you read it?" I said sarcastically, a little too snappy than I'd meant it to sound.

"No, but you should. Come on, how will you ever know what her real last words were if you don't open it. At least this way you can be prepared for the worst so there won't be any surprises" She said, and truthfully she was right. I sighed defeated and nodded in agreement. "I'll leave you to it. I need to go make sure Emmett is ready to go any how, but call me if you need me, and I'll be here later as you know" She smiled, pulling me into a comforting hug and then exiting the house to go meet her lazy, but funny as hell off a husband. I placed the letter down in front of me and stared at it for a while. Come one, I said to myself, what could she possibly say that could hurt you even more than she already has? I left it sitting on the table as I went to go get changed for the funeral, in my newly bought black dress. Jacob was out dropping the boys off at Victoria's, so I had enough time to myself, as I crushed my hands into my head and thought about those agonising last 2 months, watching as my mother deteriorated into nothing. I remembered what doctor Carlisle had said, those months ago.

"The disease has spread. She doesn't have long left now". Jacob of course being the man that he was, wrapped his arm around my waist in comfort, ready to console the tears he had expected to come. But I didn't feel sad. Yes I loved her, but in a way it was sort of a relief. Over a year ago she'd contracted aids through one of her many partners she'd had over the years. She'd refused any help or medication and just wanted to be left alone to die peacefully in the bedroom of her overly large home which she'd stolen from one of her many divorces. Rosalie refused to go and see her, but I made sure that I went to her regularly, because she was...after all, my mother and I couldn't just leave things up in the air. We never spoke about the past, because the past was too painful, but nearer the end I saw something glinting at the surface of her eyes, like she was desperate to tell me something, but couldn't brave the words. In the end she passed away, two days after my 28th birthday. Then a week later I got the letter in the post. Her final words. Typical of her really, backing of from telling me to my face, but yet something about what that letter could hold bothered me. She'd been desperate to tell me something, something about my past that we all wanted to forget, and that was too much to bear. But, as I sucked in a large breath, I made my way back downstairs and ripped open the dreaded letter.

Dear Bella,

Edward Cullen

45 Dawn road,

Forks,

Washington,

NE36 2JN

And that was it. No message from her. No final words. Just an address. And a dangerous one at that. Reading his name brought back so many floods of memories I had just wanted to bury deep, and set alight on fire. It was a nasty thing for her to do on a day like this. I just couldn't...would not go back to that place. Because to even say his name, burned my throat and tore my heart to pieces once again. Edward Cullen. The first man I ever truly loved. And the last.