Disclaimer: I'm most assuredly NOT SM.

"If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there."

-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

The girl was pretty, prettier than many, but not too beautiful. She was like a lamb, ready for the slaughter; he was an eager executioner. He walked toward her, brimming over with his secret desire, but to her it looked like confidence. He walked like a predator but she was too inexperienced to see his intention in his eyes.

She saw him walking, we see him stalking.

She was backed into a corner and his teeth were bared. She felt no pain when he sank those deadly fangs into her pretty porcelain neck. She didn't even know that there was any danger. And if she did, would she have cared?

He is victorious now.

Because she knows better.

The same pretty girl trudged through the air port. She was holding in her hand a small beaded bag. Sticking out of the bag was an MP3. She refused to get an iPod; too mainstream. Isabella was on her birth certificate, but she called herself Bella.

But nobody else knew that. Yet.

Bella walked through the airport in a band tee, the band being Dave Matthews; she also wore a pair of weather beaten Airwalk-Converse-wannabe's (she had refused to get the real ones), ripped denim shorts that weren't from any brand name but Mudd, and loose hair that was down in a mass of wavy, curly brown. She liked her hair, and she liked her eyes.

Once upon a time, when she had called herself Isabella, she had hated them.

But the mud brown had transformed into chocolate, the stringy hair was now mahogany. In reality, her features hadn't changed; just her view on them did.

As did her view on everything else.

Bella walked with a stumbling gait that she wouldn't give up for the world. She knew no other way to walk. Her black leather suitcase bumped her in the butt with every step, but she didn't mind. As long as she didn't fall on her face, she'd be good.

Too late.

Somehow, Bella managed to trip over the suitcase behind her and went into a freefall towards the now-carpeted floor. One stroke of luck. That didn't happen very often.

Now let us observe Bella falling. She doesn't fall normally.

What? There is a normal way to fall?

Yes. When falling, most people will watch the ground, gasp, twist their body, pull up their knees, and stick out their hands to try and catch themselves. Bella did none of these things.

She closed her eyes in an almost exasperated way, kept her body relaxed, and fell. She did not tense, pull up her knees, twist, or stick out her arms. She wasn't expecting someone to catch her either. Nope, she was just 'used to it'.

As her bruised and battered body verified. Her palms were crisscrossed with scars and abrasions. As were her hips, knees, thighs, stomach, elbows, and feet. Her face, miraculously, had been left unscathed.

Supposedly.

But if one were to look closer, they would be able to make out a jagged cut nearly hidden by her hairline. It had once been a deep cut, but it was now healing. That one was also caused by a fall.

But, unlike her other injuries, it wasn't an accident.

Bella tells nobody about the scar. And nobody asks. Because everyone who 'knew' her during that once upon a time knows exactly how it got there. They all denied it, but they all knew the truth.

And the people who don't matter, hopefully won't pry. Hopefully.

But Bella doesn't really hope anymore. You can be happy without hope, she's told herself. But she doesn't really know if she's happy either.

That's why she's here to find out.

Bella got up, wiped off her hands, and continued on to the door, right when a young woman in her mid-thirties came bustling through.

"Oh, dear! Are you quite alright? I saw you take that nasty fall there," she trailed off, seeing that Bella was indeed, quite alright. Bella tried to smile joyously at her.

The woman wondered if she was constipated. Or in pain.

She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in Bella's ear, "It's not that time of month for you is it?" Bella stopped trying and managed a real smile this time. It was genuine and adorable on her little lost face.

Or, at least, that's what the woman thought.

"Hi, Auntie Esme," Bella's smile turned wry, "and no, it isn't that time of month," she chuckled. Esme looked at her, half worried, half amused.

"Oh, well you looked like you were in pain," Bella outright laughed at that. A real laugh. She thought she didn't remember the ticklish sensations in her stomach, the throaty croak as the air whooshed up and out of her lungs, the easy smile. She hadn't laughed in a long time.

"I was trying to smile!" Esme laughed with her, but inside she was worried.

Trying to smile?

She didn't know what I know. And what you will have to find out on your own.

Bella's laughter cut off into small chuckles. She didn't want to let go of that wonderful sensation. When she laughed, she laughed. That was it. No other emotion attached to her amusement. No thoughts in her head, just her laughing. It was a freeing experience.

And Bella was in an unlocked cage. She could get out if she tried, but she was still trapped inside her mind. Bella didn't want to try. And so, her unlocked cage taunted her. Because getting out of it was scarier than staying inside.

She was a coward. It wasn't that hard to admit.

To herself, at least.

She sighed when at last her chuckles subsided. It was time to go and meet the reality of her situation again. Well, maybe not the full reality. She wasn't ready for that yet.

Esme smiled at the broken soul she saw before her. Now, she didn't know that Bella's soul was broken, she only knew that something was wrong. That something wasn't very right with this pretty, polite girl. She sensed a world weariness to her, a taste of bittersweet and sour. And she could feel inside of her that this girl missed something. She knew what it was instinctually.

Bella missed her naivety. And Esme was right on. But, of course, Esme believed in all things logical and definite. So she ignored that little twinge of premonition in her gut. That little nudging thought in her brain.

Ignorance is bliss, after all.

"So, it seems that we should be heading off," Esme did her best to sound cheerful. Bella thought she sounded like children's cough syrup. So sickeningly sweet, it distracts from the fact that it is cough medicine, and that you, who are taking it, are sick.

Bella had a misconception of the word sick. Or at least, she had a different way of describing it. Sick was not when you didn't feel good, it was when you felt wrong. Sick didn't mean coughing and throwing up, it meant that something inside of you was changing for the worse. Becoming perverse and alien. Sick, to Bella, meant that moment when you finally realize that everything you ever thought you knew about yourself, your life, your family, and your friends was wrong. Sick meant the world, and Bella felt like she was floating in a sea of it. And that the damn lifeboat was always a good fifty feet away, no matter how hard she tried to get at it.

And try she did. If anything, Bella was like a mule in her stubbornness. When she made a decision that was that. And that was why she was in the airport that day, staring at Esme and then at the door behind her. At the lack of sunlight, at the clouds ready to let loose their torrents of rain. And she knew that she was sick, and she knew that she was changing.

Again.

But maybe, this time, she was changing for the better.

Esme observed the strange girl. Her eyes were glazing over and the expression on her face… it wasn't an expression, really. It was just nothing. Nothing there at all. The way one might look after they have died and all their skin disintegrated. The expression she had on her face was one that would be more appropriate on a skull's. More appropriate on something that seemed as if had never held the life of another inside it.

"Yes, Esme, it seems so." She picked up her bag, pulled her suitcase close to her body, and looked expectantly at her aunt. Esme tried to look her in the eyes.

She found that she wasn't able to.

But we are, we always are. If we could just get over our emotions and anticipations and just observe, we would be able to see anything. Anything at all.

Esme turned and walked out the doors, Bella close on her heels. The two made a strange sight; an average enough girl with above average looks, waltzing along like she'd seen it all and the world could just go crawl in a hole and die a painful death for all she cared. And an above average woman with rather average wife-ish looks, who looked like the world had never even crossed her path yet. The biggest difference however, was the one you couldn't see. It was the one you could feel.

Esme had a path and she was walking along it. Sure, she encountered the minor bump or crossroad along the way, but she was sure of her path and the journey was smooth.

Bella didn't have a path. She was a wanderer, she had nowhere left to go, nobody left to turn to. Bella was paving her own path, starting from scratch and, mind my French, pulling out the motherfucking cement mixer to get her on her way. Would anybody follow her down that road was what she wanted to know.

But, true to her stubborn Bella ways, she refused to look back, only forward. Even if forward was still swathed in impenetrable fog and intimidating noises. Oh well, we've all had to deal with the things that go bump in the night.

Although, I'm guessing that none of us would ever like to revisit those memories. Just saying.

We watch as they push through a lingering crowd and approach the old, weather-beaten purple Volkswagen Bug. The ultimate VWB. And the absolute last thing Bella would ever want to be seen in.

"Is that your car?" she was astounded that such a thing could even be considered a car. She might as well be riding around in a dune buggy puked on by Barney. But Esme loved the old thing. And Esme, being Esme, didn't see how anybody couldn't love it. So she didn't even see the plain dislike on Bella's face as she viewed the vile thing; instead of a frown, she saw artistic contemplation, instead of a snort of disgust, she heard a snort of approval. Then again, how anybody could snort in approval was beyond me.

But obviously, not beyond Esme.

She broke into a cherubic grin as she regarded her prized possession. She looked just like a little kid, all proud and adorable with that big dopey expression on her sweet-natured face. Bella, once catching sight of that look, promptly attempted to look like she adored the thing. She didn't want to put Esme in a 'my puppy got run over by a car' mood. So she tried to smile at the abomination.

"Honey, are you sure you're not sick?" Esme's brow was furrowed in concern as she regarded what looked like her niece burning at the stake. Bella gave up, sighed, and opened the door without another word.

Silence is golden, after all.

Esme shrugged and stepped around the other side of the car. She got in, started up the fruity little bug thing, and pulled out of the parking lot, just barely missing the troop of Brownie Scouts behind her.

"Trip to Italy Badge," Bella frowned, neck turned, as she watched the suitcase laden grade-schoolers swagger their way behind the car, "they went to Italy? What?" Esme sighed and smiled at her knowingly.

"Isn't it ridiculous? When I was a Brownie, we got knitting badges. I still have mine," she reached across Bella and pulled open the glove box while still driving. Bella watched in horror as they missed the death carrying Pizza Piazza truck miss them by about a centimeter.

Esme rummaged on.

"Esme! Watch where you're going, you're going to get us killed!" Esme wasn't paying attention.

"It's in here somewhere, I know it is… Aha!" She triumphantly pulled out a moldy green fabric thing that looked like it had been in that glove box for about a century and a half. Bella's pale face was on the road as they dodged a biker, a large pole, a tree, and a crowd of screeching pedestrians.

Esme thrust the ugly thing in her face then turned and got back to driving.

"Oh silly me!" She giggled joyously, "We're on the wrong side of the road!" Bella just gave a rather dazed 'uh-huh', threw the trashy badge that had almost gotten them killed back into the glove box, and closed it with a final smack.

A half hour later, after passing up the buzzing Seattle city, Esme pulled onto an adjoining road; a dirt road. With stones and such. The car bounced along as Esme hummed a tune. Bella's teeth clanked against each other and she hurriedly pulled on her seat belt, hoping it would control her movements. It was all in vain.

Bounce, bounce, bounce. Bounce, bounce, bounce.

"Hey, good looking! What you got cooking?" Esme crooned the dreadful song, sadly making it sound a lot more like the original than Bella would ever have enjoyed.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyy good lookin'. Whhhhhhhhhhhhatch ya got cookin'?" Bella stuffed her fingers in her ears and hoped to any deity that Esme wouldn't be offended by her 'la-la-la-ing'. Esme didn't seem to mind, she was in her own world, singing that same verse over and over again; it was the only one she knew.

I hope she's not offended if I do the same. La-la-la-la-la-la.

Eventually, the dirt road ran back into a normal road, with lines and highway-ish things. A large forest rose up threateningly on each side of the road, leaving it in shadow and mystique.

After a few more minutes of incessant torture, Bella caught sight of a large and very old cardboard sign that looked like it was barely being held up. It was half shrouded by the trees' shadows and seemed rather forlorn on that big empty road all by itself. She took a closer look.

And she could just barely make out a Welcome to Forks under all the graffiti. She got one last glimpse of the tattered old thing before they had passed it up. And one last look at the graffiti.

Turn back if you can! Save yourselves!

Welcome to Forks' Asylum, Home of the Loony Bins.

Come on in, bring your children. You'll NEVER leave again.

Imma shove a fork up your-

"Charming." Bella's lips pursed in worry.

"Huh?" Esme pulled out of her daze. Then she looked at Bella who was trying to look back at the sign which was quickly becoming part of the distance.

"The sign? Oh, isn't it beautiful? It was the school's local art project back in the 50's. But now it's covered in graffiti. Nice graffiti, some of it, but still graffiti." She sighed. Bella gawked. What, there was nothing weird about the contents of the graffiti? Nothing disturbing about it? Bella was disturbed to the tenth degree.

And Esme…well, Esme wasn't disturbed. At all.

Bella and Esme sat in silence for another five minutes. Then Esme swayed in her seat and pulled one hand off the steering wheel to pump it in the air.

"Woo-hoo! Welcome to your new home Bella! Welcome to Forks!" Bella looked around for Forks. But all she saw was more trees.

"You don't live in some random shack in the woods, do you?" Esme giggled and shook her head. Then she pointed at a random shack in the woods.

"No, silly! Tanya lives in a shack in the woods. We live in a house in town." Esme slowed down the car and pulled up to the square excuse for a home. She got out and knocked on the swinging hinge door, waiting for someone to come out.

Bella rolled up the windows, locked the doors, and made sure the key was in the ignition.

Esme knocked on the door again and pulled a package out of her coat pocket. She held the package in the air and started waving it at the door, crooning a low chant. The sweet aroma pervaded the car and Esme's chants echoed off the nearby trees.

Bella revved the engine.

"Tanya, oh little Tanya," Esme was saying, "come out dear, I have a little snack for you." There was a grunt, a crash, and a delighted squeal before a little pile of rags came flying out of the shack. Bella pressed her face to the window just in time to see the brown garbage heap bounce up and down at Esme's feet. It was relatively short and tiny, and eventually, Bella realized that it was a human.

A little human girl.

Esme laughed and when the little girl wrapped her arms around Esme's legs, she handed her the package with a loving smile. Tanya, as Bella presumed she was called, grabbed it with greedy hands and tore it open. She took one giant bite of the steaming bagel and was soon stuffing it down her throat like a wolf. A rather deprived wolf.

Bella and Esme looked on sadly.

"Bella dear, if you open up the trunk, there's a box of stuff for Tanya there. Could you be a darling and get it for me, please?" Bella ambled out of the car, popped the trunk open, and quickly found the mammoth box. She dragged it out as well as she could and heaved it over to Esme, huffing and puffing the entire way.

Esme tried very hard not to laugh.

"You need to work out some child," then, while Bella glared at her, she bent down and whisked the box up with apparent ease. Tanya wasn't paying attention; she was still gobbling down her bagel. Esme kicked open the shed door and Bella followed her in. it was a pitiful sight. A dusty, splintered wooden floor that had hopefully seen better days. Discarded trash all over the floor and a smattering of dirt on every surface; and there were only the walls, floor, and small cot in the corner to act as surfaces. Esme brought her box over to the cot and pulled up a giant fold-up pillow, which she laid on the cot like a mattress. She then pulled out a huge pile of fluffy blankets and sleeping bags, some more pillows, a broom, a carpet, another bag, and a fold up chair and table. Then she went back out to the car and came back in with a mop, a bucket, and what looked like a futon.

Once again, Bella gawked.

"You managed to fit all of that," she gestured wildly to the menagerie of materials, "into that?" she pointed at the box. Esme shrugged and deposited everything but the cleaning materials onto the cot.

"Alright Bella, how about this? You help me clean this place up and I'll introduce you to my friend here." Bella closed her mouth and nodded. Esme didn't have to convince her to lend a hand; that poor girl needed all the help she could get.

Esme handed a broom to Bella and pulled a duster out of the barrels of the humongous box. Sweep, sweep, sweep. Back and forth went the broom, throwing up dust tornadoes and debris from who knows how long. Bella's eyes watered at the offending dirt, but she kept on with her sweeping, maintaining a steady rhythm. Sweep, sweep, sweep into a pile. Sweep, sweep, sweep out the little door. She poked her head out and saw Tanya, following the crazily spiraling dust with her eyes.

Bella stopped for a moment and observed the urchin before her. She had small loose-hanging strawberry blonde curls that were caked with dirt and dust so that it looked almost sandy in color. Her face was streaked with every color of brown and black, soot and earth, filth and decay. The young eyes following the dust were a smooth gray blue color, like the sky covered in a bank of warm wooly clouds. And in the gray blue, there was a speckled dusting of green, little emeralds swimming in the clouds. Her lashes were long, her cheekbones were high; her lips were a coral pink and pouty, her eyebrows were lofty and regal. All in all, the urchin caked in dirt and grime was a fine specimen of beauty. She was a gorgeous little girl, one of those people who could grow up and just be walking down the streets when they're waylaid by paparazzi, who mistake them for Megan Fox or Jessica Alba. This beautiful little girl; living in this broken down shack with no parents in sight. It was enough to make one want to cry.

But Bella didn't cry, so when she felt the water pricking at her eyes, she told herself it was the dust and went back to the sweeping motion of her broom. In no time at all it seemed, the small room was swept, dusted, mopped, and lovely clean. Esme set up the bed with pillows and blankets while Bella got to putting down the carpet. It was a warm blue color, like Tanya's eyes, and it covered most of the offending floor. Then the chair and table were set up in one corner, the nice little futon acting as a couch in another part of the room, the bag in the box was shown to contain clothes for Tanya: pants, shirts, sweaters, gloves, scarves, hats, jeans, coats, socks, and underwear. All the essentials. Then Esme pulled out the basket and opened it for Tanya, who was eyeing it like it was the Holy Grail.

There were loaves of bread, jugs of juice and water, dozens of wrapped sandwiches, boxes of cookies and snacks, a few things of cereal, plastic bowls and cups and spoons, lettuce leaves, packaged fruits like peaches and pears, apples, grapes, cheese sticks, and a little package of sweets. She laid the basket on the table in the corner and turned to Tanya.

"Now, young lady. I expect you get yourself washed off in that hot spring of yours that isn't too far off. And you know that you need to save up this food here. And get changed. I'll be in to check on you tomorrow on my way to work, okay?" Tanya nodded eagerly, her big eyes rounder than ever. She rushed forward all of a sudden and hugged Esme's legs. Then she walked shyly over to Bella and crooked her finger. Bella bent down.

"Follow the White Rabbit," she whispered, her voice all small and sweet. Bella looked her in the eye and frowned confusedly, but she shrugged. Then Tanya hugged her too. Bella sniffled, and tried to cover it up with a cough.

"Okay, Bella. I think we should be going now," Bella nodded and followed Esme back to the car. She watched from the window as the forlorn little girl waved happily at them while they drove away. She smiled.

"Esme, do you mind explaining?" Esme grinned at her. Then she sobered up some.

"A few months ago, I was driving home from work past that shed, as I always did. I'd always assumed that it was empty and had found no evidence to the contrary until that day. I was going slow, taking my time, in no rush to get home, when I happened to look out the window. And saw a little face peeping out from behind the door. I went to investigate and found a little girl, covered in dirt and starving. I tried to approach her, but she backed into a corner and whimpered, cowering in fear. So I brought a piece of cake I had lying in the car to her. She pounced on it and after a few mouthfuls told me that her name was Tanya. She said she had no parents and that the little shack was her home. And from that day on, we were friends," Esme smiled wistfully.

"I've tried to take her home with me more times than I can count, but she refuses to budge. She loves that old place and wouldn't give it up for the world. I don't have it in me to take it away from her. So I bring food for her every day on my way to or from work in Seattle. I was here yesterday, looking around at the place, and I had the best idea to clean it up a bit and make it more like a home. So I brought all this stuff with me when I came to pick you up. I figured you wouldn't mind helping a girl in need, kind hearted that you are," they smiled at each other.

"So, what did she say to you? Tanya, I mean. The dear girl has some strange moments here and there, but she's a sweetheart nonetheless. Actually, the things she says are uncanny. Like just the other day…" Esme shook her head. Bella looked on curiously.

"Um, she just told me her name, that's all," Bella didn't know why, but she didn't exactly want to tell Esme what the little girl had said. It was a secret, and she hated secrets, but really. What harm could it do?

Follow the White Rabbit. What could that even mean?

Snicker. Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with this one.

Bella dragged herself out of her head as they neared a few buildings. Civilization at last. Well, maybe civilization was a little too…sophisticated…for the place they were approaching. Bella counted four buildings: a gas station, a goods store, a library, and a supermarket before they were back in the unknown again. They passed more trees and then there was a larger building with a parking lot in front of it.

The sign in front read Forks High School. In big purple letters.

She examined the low brown brick structure, her new school, before they had it passed up again. They passed up another building which was a preschool and grade school, then a bunch of houses. They were always passing houses. Big houses, little houses, cream houses, pink houses, brick houses, wood houses, even apartment buildings and trailers. Then they got to another sign saying: You are now leaving Forks, population 2389.

And right in front of the sign was a coffee colored brick house. Quaint and small. And utterly perfect.

"I guess the population is 2390 now that you're here," Esme ran over to the sign and made like she was going to cross out the number and replace it with a forty. Bella giggled. Then she stopped abruptly and hopped out of the ugly little car.

"Wait, they can count out the population?" Esme nodded and went to get Bella's suitcase like it was no big deal that a town was able to count out its exact population. Bella didn't mention it again, there wasn't any point. Obviously Esme didn't have a problem with it, so why should she?

"Here I'll take that," Esme grabbed Bella's handbag and walked into the house. Bella followed her in through a sitting room with carpeted floors and vintage seats, through a canary yellow kitchen, and up some creaky stairs. Eight steps up, one step forward, two steps right and Bella entered her new room. Esme dropped the case, stated what Bella was in her new room (which she already knew), and told her to get comfortable.

"You've got fifteen minutes," then Esme turned on her heel and clattered down the stairs. Bella sat down on her bed and observed the room. The walls were a light red, the bed was small and covered with a quilt. The pillows were black, the dresser was big, the window was round, and there was a window seat with pillows on it. One corner held a desk, the other a door, and the other another door; the fourth corner had nothing but peeling wallpaper and floor. Okay, three doors, one bed, one desk, one dresser, one window, one window seat, four walls, a ceiling, and a floor.

Huh. Such an untraditional room, wouldn't you say?

Bella moved to the door on the left and peered in. The room beyond was dark so she fumbled for a switch. She flipped it on and observed a small pantry sized room with some shelves and clothing racks. Obviously a closet. She flipped the light switch and closed the door behind her on the way out.

She opened the door on the right, turned on the light and was met with a small shower, a toilet, white tiled floors, a sink with a cabinet and a mirror. Bella studied the mirror from afar, she didn't really feel like looking at her reflection right then, so she walked out and shut the door behind her. She sat down on the bed.

She put up her hair. Then she got up and looked out the window.

And standing in the woods was a small figure with black spiky hair. She peeked out from behind a tree and squealed. Then the figure, a girl, was zipping across the lawn with almost unimaginable speed. She ran into Esme, who let out an 'oompf' that Bella could hear from the window. Bella smiled at her enthusiasm. Then she saw something that stopped her heart mid beat.

Bella had good vision, it was one of her redeeming qualities. So when she looked down on the scene below her, her eyes were drawn to a little patch of white on the girl's left shoulder.

A tattoo.

Of a white rabbit. A White Rabbit holding a watch in its hand. You know the one, "I'm late! I'm late!"

Oh, let the games begin! Like I said, we're going to have fun with this one.

Song: I Will Walk 500 Miles. (Not by the Proclaimers)

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