"The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence."- Sylvia Plath

Bella

Inside her bedroom on 42 Everett Street lived Isabella Swan. Her lips trembled as silent sobs escaped her mouth. She gripped her body tightly to calm the shaking of her limbs but that didn't seem to work. A hot wave of tears spilled from her eyes as she struggled to maintain her composure. This was the worst type of crying. She wanted to scream and yell from the rooftops but she had to stay silent. Nobody could know how she wanted to die. Nobody could see the pain in her eyes.

She promised herself everyday that she would tell her best friend how she was feeling but she never did…

She promised herself everyday how she would tell her older brother how she was feeling but she never did…

She promised herself how she would tell her distant but caring father how she was feeling but it was too late.

Her life has become a thing of broken promises and the guilt has eaten her alive…

It's funny how you can be alive one minute then the next minute you are gone. No one gives a shit about you when you're breathing but people start to notice you the moment you're dead. I knew my mom would die at some point but when the time came, it was just like any other day. Any normal person would have been overcome by anguish and pain but I felt nothing. I was numb to everything. I would rather feel nothing than feel the pain I caused her.

The newspapers said that Renee Dwyer- nurse at Bellington Hospital- died in a car accident but I knew what it really was. It was suicide. She tried to hide her unhappiness with alcohol but if you looked close enough through the cracks, you could see her heart and mind crumbling to pieces. Everyone wondered how a Cornell graduate student like her could end up in some beat up town working as an underpaid nurse. It didn't make sense for such a supposed bright intelligent woman, but that's just the way it works sometimes. Life screws you over when you least expect it.

I stared at the steaming cup of coffee and wrapped the fuzzy blanket tighter around my body. The officers tracked my movements as if I were made of china glass and would fall apart at any second. They could think whatever they wanted but I didn't want to stick around to see their pity. I just wanted to sleep.

Officer Rodriguez and Officer Sanchez had arrived at my house at 2:00 am. I was awoken by the sound of pounding on the door. I had assumed it was my mom coming home from the hospital and that she couldn't find her keys. I was wrong. The officers explained how she had passed but I heard nothing. It was as if all time had stopped and I was alone. Silence surrounded me and and nothing could break this peaceful feeling. That's how it was in my mind and it's how I wanted it to stay.

"You're dad should be here by morning," was all I heard them say, "we'll keep you company tonight."

"Okay," I shrug. I got up from the couch and headed back to my bedroom. They called after me but I didn't turn around. I didn't want to talk to them. I slid into bed but I couldn't fall asleep. My father was coming. My dad, who I hadn't seen in eight years was coming back.

He was coming back…

My father, Charlie Swan is the CEO of Highlanders Co. It's a big tech company in Seattle Washington and he makes millions. He supported us by sending weekly checks but my mom was embarrassed that she was practically living off of her ex- husband so she stopped accepting the money. She always said that if we were to ever make it in this world then we were to earn it ourselves. It didn't help that much that my brother, Emmett lived with our dad. He was the perfect older child and I was the complete opposite. I could practically feel my mom's disappointment in me.

Our parents split up when we were younger and my brother choose to stay with my dad while I stayed with my mom. I tried to keep contact over the years but my mother claimed they were a bad influence. She didn't want me to become another "privileged snobby rich kid," so she completely cut them out of our lives. I never heard from them again after my eighth birthday. I didn't know why but it soon became clear from my mom that I was just as much of a burden on their lives.

Now, the only way to describe myself was that I was in a zombie- like state. I had barely slept and was now wide awake. I sat in the kitchen with Officer Sanchez. There were donuts and coffee on the table. I fiddled with my phone, looking anywhere but at him. It was just now that I realized Officer Rodriguez was nowhere to be found.

"Why don't you have some donuts?" Sanchez says.

I shake my head, "I'm not hungry."

"Can you at least have a bite?"

I ignore his question. "Where's Officer Rodriguez?"

He sighs, "she's meeting your father at the station."

"Why?"

He doesn't respond. All he says is "please, just have one bite."

I grumble in annoyance and pick up the stale jelly donut. I take one bit and put it down. He relaxes in content. I, however clutch my stomach in pain.

I think I'm going to be sick.

I'm laying on the couch. A cold washcloth is draped across my forehead. I had told the officer I wasn't hungry but he didn't listen. I puked shortly after. I don't remember getting sick or cleaning it up so I assume I must have been really out of it.

It wasn't much later when I heard the sound of voices outside the front door. Sanchez got up before I could. Officer Rodriguez walked in with a tall man behind her. His face was as white as a sheet. His brown eyes widened at the sight of me and his hands clenched in fists. He had greying brown hair and was even taller than I remembered.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stood up. I didn't know what to say.

"Bells?" His voice cracked, "Is it really you?" Tears formed in his eyes and took hesitant steps towards me, "You look so much like your mother. Your eyes, your hair…"

His voice was gruff. It was just as I remembered; at least that didn't change.

"Hi, Dad." I whisper. Unexpectedly, tears start rolling down my cheeks at an alarming rate. I didn't know he would effect me this much. I was surprised to hear the heartache in his voice. It was as if he actually cared.

He takes hesitant steps forwards before pulling me in for a hug. I let my head rest on his shoulder as he strokes my mahogany hair. I could feel our bodies shaking as I tentatively wrapped my arms around his waist.

What was I doing?

"Shhh, baby. It's alright," he grips me tighter as I just let the tears pour from my eyes; not even bothering to hide them anymore. "You don't have to be alone anymore. I've got you."

This just went to prove my mother was truly dead and gone. I wasn't an orphan but I felt like one. I have a father but he's not really my father. He's a man I barely know; and I'm crying into his shoulder right now. If he wanted to be my father, why didn't he find me all those years ago?

"Where were you?" I bawl. "I needed you."

P.S: The other chapter will be longer!