Chapter 1 – counting down

I stared at my hand examining the tiny cut that was there, bright red, not being discreet at all about it's presence – visually at least. I twisted my hand a little, half convinced that from a certain angle the thin scarlet line would vanish. No such luck.

I sighed and finally gave up trying to work out where the cut had come from. I dumped my bowl in the sink and ran the hot water, putting a splash of washing-up liquid in and waiting for the water level to rise. I turned the tap off and my cut chose the moment I submerged my hands in the water to make itself known to me through the sense of touch rather than sight. I rolled my eyes at the small, stinging line on my hand and continued to wash up.

I went back upstairs checking my phone, as soon as I realised what time it was, I was running up the stairs to clean my teeth. I guess I had been wondering about the random, mystery cut longer than I thought.

"Bella? How do you spell mattress?" my mum called up the stairs.

"M-A-T-T-R-E-S-S," I recited, shouting back down the stairs after hurriedly spitting in the sink.

I ran back down the stairs, jumping the last two, and ran out the door grabbing my bag as I went past.

I called a quick "bye" over my shoulder and it was followed by the usual, "call if you're going anywhere or let out late!" I sighed and rolled my eyes.

I jumped into my rusted Chevy and prayed the engine would start before the average hundredth try. For once my prayer was granted. Wow.

I pulled into the space furthest from school, the down side – obviously – was that I had further to walk to the school buildings, which, in my world, translated as more chances to trip. However, the up side was that there would be less people to see me fall and less oh so witty remarks about my truck.

I went straight to English, I didn't care that the bell hadn't gone yet, I just wanted to sit... alone.

"Have you had a shower this morning?" I heard Brad ask in a patronizing tone as he peered down his nose at me.

"I had one last night," I replied frostily, not appreciating his implication that I smelt.

"Oh, so you had one last night did you?" he tried to mimic the short sharp "a" sound in the word last – like in bad or glad – instead of using the regional long "a" sound that made it sound like it should be spelt larst.

"Yes."

"Say last," he goaded, I could feel the familiar annoyance that pulled my face down into a frown and the defensiveness that tightened the muscles in my arms and make my nostrils slightly flared.

"No."

"Say bath."

"No."

"Say glass."

"No," I refused to get angry, speaking in a flat monotone, carefully under control.

Thankfully the teacher started the lesson and I didn't have to put up with any more of Brad's harassing... at least for another hour.

English was a drag, so was the rest of the day, even at lunch when I usually sat quietly in the corner on my own some people had to start on me. I tried to walk out the canteen with at least some dignity, but my feet obviously had other plans because halfway to the door I tripped, landing flat on my face. Then, to make matters even worse, I stumbled again, while I was trying to get up! I ran out of the canteen which was, by then, collectively howling with laughter.

I stupidly wiped my pathetic tears away, knowing full well that until I got some measure of control over my own body they would continue to fall mercilessly, regardless of whether the sight of them would cause a whole new round of mocking to begin.

The tears had started flowing less often now, when I first moved here it used to be a couple of times a day, but now it was just a handful of times near the end of term. I tried to console myself that I was going to see my dad at the end of this week, with his nice new fiancé Sue, and her children; Seth and Leah.

Forks was a small town, so whenever I went there in the holidays I would always find my old friends there to hang around with, and in the last few years, I had been able to get mobile numbers and msn addresses and add them as friends on facebook. It helped me feel less isolated. It helped a lot that I was able to talk to my dad freely whenever I liked.

For the millionth time I wondered what I was still doing here, I would be so much happier living with my dad in Forks, I guess I just never had the courage to speak up about it. I fidgeted impatiently, I was desperate for this day to end, then I would only have four more days left until I was going to Forks again! Then I would have two weeks there! I was itching to leave now, instead of having to endure the rest of this day, which was slowly but surely crumbling around me.

I walked swiftly through the hall to biology, I held tightly onto my bag, cradling it against my chest, but then I felt a leftover tear prick my eye. I made a hasty dash with my hand to wipe it away – hopefully subtly – before anyone saw. But then Ollie reached out and pulled my bag out of my arm, effortlessly avoiding my flailing hands trying to grab my bag back.

But he turned his back on me and his gang made an impenetrable human wall around him, all looking on with malicious eyes, like vultures. Why was I even trying to push them out of the way? They were all a lot bigger and heavier than me.

I heard him name the various items in my bag as he one by one lifted them out, and with a flourish, dropped them on the floor... until he found the homework which was due in next lesson, the lesson that Ollie was also in.

"Why thank you Bella," he said in a sickeningly polite tone, "I've been wondering where I had misplaced my homework, now I realise I had left it in your bag all along!"

With that he let my bag fall, unceremoniously, to the join it's previous contents and walked away laughing. I quickly struggled to pick up all my stuff before any more of it was stolen or the bell went. I succeeded in the first but not in avoiding being late.

The clamorous bell rang, making me jump and quickly grab the last sheets of paper resting on the floor and I hurried to class with the bell's obnoxious din ringing in my ears.

I walked through the door and noticed the class hadn't started yet. I also noticed the threatening pile of homework on the teacher's desk. I nervously walked over to her feeling not at all well inside.

"Don't worry Bella," she muttered to me, so that the rest of the class couldn't hear, "Ollie has already handed in your homework for you," she smirked reassuringly and I felt one corner of my mouth twitch in response, this was why miss Everett was my favourite teacher.

I went to collapse with relief onto my seat in the back of the classroom. I liked history, not only did I love the subject, but I got to sit by myself and the teacher was really kind as well. I was so glad I had double history on Friday, it would make the last day of term just that little bit more bearable.

I got home. I saw Phill's car. It was alone in the drive. I almost turned around and went back to school.

I sighed and walked into my house hoping that Phill was in a good mood. Unfortunately he wasn't, and I had no mum here to act as a buffer.

When I trudged through the door Phill was sat on the sofa eating a bowl of cereal, "Where do you think you've been?" he asked menacingly, I knew that whatever answer I gave him now would set him off, so I went for the truth.

"School."

"Don't play smart with me missy!"

I stayed silent as he stalked through the living room, headed straight towards me. I automatically flinched when he reached me, but he grabbed my ear and started towing me roughly upstairs, I fell a few times but this would only make him yank my ear upwards, really hard. The pain made my eyes water, but I didn't sob, there was no way in hell that I going to sob in front of Phill.

I used to think he was a decent guy, until he married my mum. So much for the first impression always being the right one.

He threw me into my room and my head landed on my bedside table, he laughed and walked back downstairs. I felt my head gingerly, bugger, there was a cut. I felt my hand smear the blood trail that was already beginning to trickle down my forehead. I crept to the bathroom to wash the blood off my face and apply a plaster.

I tiptoed back across the landing and into my room once again, with a huff, I practically threw myself under my bed to receive the laptop that my dad had given my one year so we could keep in touch more easily, plus he thought it would help with my school work. I needed to cheer myself up so I logged into facebook and started checking my friends' statuses.

Some of their statuses were pretty funny, and a lot of them were interesting. It seemed like a new family had moved to Forks, and my the sounds of it, all of them, Edward in particular were really attractive. I laughed to myself as I scrolled down my home page, looking at all the status updates, it looked like this Edward had almost all the girls in Forks crushing on him already, they had only moved in on the weekend!

I heard my mum come in and go straight to Phill. Ten minutes later I heard her running up the stairs, to my room. The door burst open and my mum jumped to sit on the bed next to me like we were best friends.

"Oh my god this is so exciting!" she gushed, "I found out the news today and oh my god it's so wonderful, you'll never guess!"

"What?" I asked trying to be enthusiastic, with limited success.

"Well..." she paused dramatically, "I'm pregnant! Oh this is just brilliant! We'll be a real family, this life is perfect! I never want it to end! The only thing I would change though," she became thoughtful and utterly serious, "Is... well, I wish you were his as well."

I blanched, my face stayed still, not betraying how sick I felt inside. Tears started to well up in my eyes , I turned my face away so my mum wouldn't see them, but she had already danced out of my room by the time I broke down and started crying. I was kinda glad that no one was around to see how much my own mother's words had hurt me. My chest felt clogged up, and my throat felt scratchy as I closed the door, knowing that I wouldn't be able to hold back the grief and the disgust inside me, the door was the only thing separating my misery and my mum's ecstasy, the only thing that would stop Phill form hearing this and... I didn't particularly want to finish that thought.

I switched off my laptop, knowing that I wouldn't be able to feel the slightest bit cheerful now, and anything I did to try and cheer me up would end up ruined, so I did some homework, making sure I put my name on it.

As my focus switched from my mum's words to my homework, I felt my mood improving. I felt the tears evaporate into salty stains, I felt the red puffiness around my eyes shrink a little and I felt thirsty. As soon as I was sure no more tears would escape me, I went to wash my face.

I examined my freshly dry face in the mirror and decided that all traces of my break down were gone. It was safe to go downstairs and get started on dinner. I got my ipod – another present form my dad – and stuck that in my ears, trying to drown out the mockery of a celebration that was going on in the living room.

But then my ipod ran out of charge and I was almost surprised to find I was dishing up spaghetti bolognese into three dishes. I sighed, remembering being so stubborn about food when I was little, my mum often told me that the only way to get me to eat was by making me spaghetti bolognese. Predictably, it was the first meal I learned to cook.

I set the food on the table and went to living room to announce that dinner was ready. I sat and ate in dejected silence, listening to my mum rambling on about how excited she was about the baby and how much she loved Phill, blah blah blah, it was stomach turning.

I hadn't even got half way through my dinner before I tried to excuse myself from the table, but my mum told me I had to stay there until they had finished. I mentally groaned as there was more talking and.... cringeworthy stuff – lets just leave it at that – than eating.

Eventually my mum noticed the still, mostly full, plate in front of me. Then she twigged that something was up.

"Honey, are you okay? You haven't eaten your bolognese, that's really not like you," she asked slightly concerned.

"I just feel a little sick," I stated dully.

"Hmm, maybe it's the excitement," oh yeah, of course it was the excitement, "maybe you should go lie down for a bit."

Grateful for the escape, I quickly made my way to my room. I managed to get Tuesday off, which was good, I hated Tuesdays. But then Wednesday came around all too soon.

Of course there were hundreds of ridiculous rumours about why I hadn't been there yesterday; I had been busy murdering someone in the desert, I had got knocked up, I was working as a prostitute... some of the rumours going into such explicit detail I wondered how their imaginations could come up with such disgusting fantasies.

Just two more days after today Bella you can do this! I kept chanting to myself over and over again throughout the day.

A/N – OK some things made up for the benefit of the story; Phill being abusive and Bella getting bullied.

Other things not made up for the benefit of the story; me only eating spaghetti bolognese when I was small (lol)and my mum saying that she wished I was my step dads daughter, I do like my step dad but I love my dad even more and it did kinda hurt a little when she said it, but my mum hates my dad so I just have to get over it really.

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