Author's Note: Hello! We got a pretty quick start so I didn't really have time to include a note in the prologue. I hope you guys are intrigued. :) I'm not completely sure how long the story's going to be yet, but each chapter will be a minimum of 1.5k words. Updates will probably be inconsistent, just warning you. There might be ten updates one day and then none for a week. Sorry for that, but with school my schedule's kinda hectic :/. I know for me music is a pretty big part of writing, and if you guys want, I'll post a playlist for you of songs that helped me write this. I don't own anything! And without further delay, I present to you "Dusk"!

Chapter One

I don't know much about Washington, except for the fact that there's apparently a lot of rain and coffee there, and I hate both of those things. Also, my dad lives there. It wasn't my choice to move in with him, but due to circumstance, I don't have another choice.

Two months ago, my mom went missing. I woke up one morning and she wasn't home. Her phone was laying among the broken shards of her bedroom window outside on the front lawn, the numbers 9-1-1 dialed. The police looked for her for two months before finding her body in the woods somewhere in California- something somewhat strange to me because her entire life was in Arizona. Why would someone take her all the way there?

The police discovered that she was strangled to death about a week ago. They told me this, and offered to show me the evidence that helped them find this conclusion, but I really didn't want to see.

A week after she was found, a funeral was held in the garden at the Phoenix community center. It was a warm, sunny summer morning and the sun was just beginning to peek out from the horizon. The day was already oven warm. My dad, Charlie, showed up.

"Hi Bella," he said, giving me an awkward side hug.

"Hey, Dad," I responded. I tried to look him in the eye but his eyes couldn't meet mine. He stared at the ground only.

"This really sucks," he looked up, but only for a moment. I detected a bit of unsteadiness in his voice. I knew that he still loved my mom- she was the one who ended the marriage against his much better judgement. But to make her happy, he moved away. This couldn't have been easy for him either.

"That's an understatement," I agreed.

"It's so random... I mean, she's never even been to California."

"I know."

"I'm so sorry, Bella." He gave me another forced hug. "I wish there was something more I could do to make up for this. It's so sudden... and just crazy. She led such a simple life and nobody had a reason to hate her."

"Yet they did this to her." I gestured to her casket, feeling the tears well up again. He disregarded this, and rubbed my arm sympathetically. He didn't want to show his grieving for multiple reasons. To be strong for me, and to try to prove that he wasn't still in love with her. That's Charlie for ya.

"We should probably head over there," he said, looking toward the gathering around her casket. "Looks like the ceremony's about to start." Everyone that was previously arranged in groups around the garden began to circle the coffin and join hands. He gave me an apologetic look.

"Yeah." I clenched my jaw, he took my hand, and we walked over.

The ceremony was short and simple- closed casket, lots of poems were read, the local church sang Amazing Grace, and everybody, including me, cried.

"So, Bells." My dad approached me afterward, "I know you're turning eighteen in about a year, and the state said under the circumstances they'd allow you to stay here under a guardian's supervision... And the only living suitor for that would be me. Or..." I considered this. I would be eighteen in a little over a year. My birthday was September 13th, and I'd be turning 17 that day. It was the middle of August right now. That wouldn't be too bad. My dad's quiet- I like quiet. I'm the same way. But still. Even if I could stay here alone, it would still be hard for me. I'm sure I'd find myself grieving over losing her more if I could see her presence everywhere in this house.

"Or, you could move with me up to Forks." He said hesitantly, meeting my eye. Forks is a tiny town on the Olympic Peninsula, near the coast of Washington State. As far as I knew, it was a freezing, wet, boring wasteland with no sun. Something I thrived on. The exact opposite of Phoenix. A complete fresh start- an escape. "Now before yo-"

"Okay." I interrupted. He stopped and stared at me- a look of shock covering his face. He studied me, trying to break this down. He knew I hated Forks. "I can't stay here." He opened his mouth to say something, but just closed it. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Alright."

Over the next couple of weeks,we packed up all of my belongings. I picked what of my mother's I wanted to keep, and what I was willing to let go. It was a really painful experience- having to prioritize which items I would remember my mother with. I shed a lot of tears and choked down a ton of painful memories with every item. I had about two boxes of things I thought would be important to keep, as well as a quilt that she had on her bed, the book I saw her reading the day before she died, and her favorite coffee mug. She'd been using it my whole life and it was the kind of thing I couldn't picture leaving behind.

Charlie had to go back to Forks for work, but he bought my plane ticket and said he'd meet me at the airport in Washington. The movers came the day he left and picked up all my boxes.

I left the house on August 14th, closing the front door to my childhood home with tears in my eyes. How long had I lived there? After thinking for a moment, I realized it was just about 15 years. The first year of my life was spent living in an apartment while my parents saved up for this house.

I stood at the railing of the front porch, twisting the silver chain of the all too familiar bracelt that had been living on my wrist for years. My mom bough this for me on my 10th birthday. I didn't wear it for three years because I thought it was ugly. One day, I found it while cleaning out under my bed and started wearing it. Now, I definitely couldn't take it off. I used it as a symbol of having my mother with me. I'd always have her with me even if she wasn't really there, and that was something that someone couldn't randomly come rip away to California in the middle of the night.