Remember When? Chapter 2, a twilight fanfic

Hey guys! Here's the second chapter. I hope you like it! Please remember to review and stuff n.n

Disclaimer: Only in my dreams ;-; SM gets them the rest of the time.

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BPOV

Dear Diary,

My first day at Forks High was, to put it mildly, very, very, VERY, strange.

I walked in and found my locker, right next to the big bear-like guy that I mentioned yesterday. As soon as he saw me, he turned to me and said hi and gave me this bone-crushing huge.

What the hell? I didn't even know this guy! And he was hugging me?! I tried to push him away, but I couldn't get out of his arms until he wanted to let go.

And you know what he said to me? "You must be Bella! Anyways, most guys here will be falling all over you. Please ignore them! I've got a brother who needs a girlfriend. His name is Edward and he's really cute, or whatever you call guys, and he'll be in school Monday. So, whadd'ya say"

So basically, a random guy asked me to ignore all the guys in school for his brother who isn't even in school today.

I kind of smiled back and went, "Oh, well, okay. I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now, but, thanks?" I thought that was the end of it—the bell was going to ring any second.

Emmett just smiled and went, "Well, I'm sure we can change your mind!"

Then he left.

I was almost late for my first class, I stood there in shock for so long. After finally snapping out of it, I went to my classes, got introduced, blah blah blah. The work was pretty easy; I'd done most of it in the advanced program in California.

But still, I don't even know this guy's name! Why in the world would he

"Bella!" Charlie called downstairs. "I'm back from my fishing trip! Can you help me get the fish in the freezer?"

I sighed and put my pen down, standing up and stretching. It was 6 PM and I'd sat down in the chair as soon as I got home (around 3:30. If my truck wasn't so slow, I might have gotten home sooner), and my legs were stiff from not moving.

"Sure, Charlie, one second!"

Charlie had today off and had decided to go fishing with his friend Billy down in LaPush. Apparently me and Billy's kid used to know each other when I was younger, and my truck was bought from them, but I didn't really have any memories of Jacob, or at least, I think that was Billy's son's name.

When I got downstairs, my eyes widened. I had forgotten just how much fish Charlie could catch. "I think we're covered for the next year, dad. No need to fish anymore," I mumbled, shaking my head. I hoped I wouldn't get sick of fish anytime soon.

While I was helping Charlie wrap the fish and clean them and such, I pondered how exactly that big guy from school knew my name. Sure, he must've known it was Isabella, but Bella? It's not like I introduced myself to him.

Yesterday morning on the drive to Forks, after the flight, Dad had called me Isabella, but I quickly corrected him. It was silly, but… My mom called me Isabella (That was my name! What else would she call me?), and I just couldn't have anyone else calling me that. So I told him to call me Bella, and suddenly everyone knew?

Maybe this town was just a little bit too small.

EPOV

This morning when I woke up, grief stabbed through my heart, fresh and painful. It has been 11 years since that day, the fire, the screams.

Would the pain ever fade?

I dragged myself out of bed at 4 in the morning, pulling on some clean clothes. I slipped out of the house, quiet and quick. I got into my car and closed the car door as softly as I could. My baby's engine purred when I turned the key in the ignition, and a smile flickered to my face for about a tenth of a second. It was gone as soon as it had come.

I was going to try to make it to the cemetery this time. This is the 5th time I've tried, and I haven't even gotten to California before turning back.

I gripped the steering wheel hard in both hands and pressed down on the gas pedal, the squeal of the tires turning hard on the pavement waking everyone in the house.

Immediately my cell phone started to ring. After 10 minutes I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. 12 missed calls and 28 text messages. After I deleted all the messages, I smiled grimly and turned my phone off, wondering just how many I'd have tonight.

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It had taken me nearly 9 hours to get to California. This is the first time I crossed the border, in truth it made me a little bit... frightened? It was still quite a few hours till I got to the cemetery where my parents and sister were buried, but maybe I wouldn't go there today. Maybe I would just, you know, chill. Remember them.

I reached Crescent City soon after. It was right by the beach, and I decided to sit and watch the waves for a little while. I drove to the beach and was mildly surprised to find it nearly empty. That could be because of the rocks and not too soft sand, but it would work for me.

I got out of the car and slid my keys into my pocket, wanting more than anything to take my shoes off and feel the sand in between my toes. But even I wasn't stupid enough to risk cutting up my feet.

I wandered along the rocky shore, staying far away from the other people. I found a cliff-like thing that stretched over the water. It wasn't too high and probably wouldn't be too hard to reach. I was a good climber, always the best out of the Cullen kids at rock climbing. I could do it without the safety harness.

I grabbed at a jutted out rock and pulled myself up, finding footing easily. Soon I was at the top, the flat rock smooth to the touch. I sat down and sighed deeply, the salty air filling my lungs, the sun hot on my back.

As I stared out at the never-ending ocean, memories flashed before my eyes…

11 years ago…

"Edward Anthony Masen! Get your butt up here!" My mom called from upstairs. I trotted up the steps to find my mother in the bathroom, my little sister sitting on the closed toilet seat, tears in her eyes.

"What happened?" I asked, my eyes drawn to her propped up foot that was oozing blood from a tiny cut.

"Apparently Jenny went into your room to get her toy back, and she stepped on a sharp piece of plastic! Why didn't you pick that up?" My mom demanded, washing the cut with a wet washcloth. She placed a princess Band-Aid on it when she was finished.

"Oh! I stepped on a plastic batman Happy Meal© toy this morning. I woke up late and I didn't wanna be late to school, and I stepped on it, with my sneakers on, but I didn't have time to pick it up, 'cause I didn't want to be late!" I rambled, horribly upset that I had hurt my younger sister, Jenny. She looked just like my mom, long, wavy brown hair, pale skin that blushed very easily, and the prettiest brown eyes I had ever seen. I looked more like my dad.

I walked over to the toilet seat where Jenny sat and gave her a big hug. "I'm sorry, Jenny," I apologized. "You want me to get you the toy from my room?" I offered. It was the least I could do.

She nodded and sniffed. "Yes. It's the pink My Little Pony you were using for that esperiment." Jenny replied, her lisp prominent as she said 'experiment.'

"Please," my mother prompted, and a moment later Jenny copied her, adding please.

I hurried into my room and picked up the offending plastic, tossing it in the trash bin in the corner of my room. I hunted around until I found the pink pony sitting on a desk.

I had made a carriage out of a gift box (the top discarded), some wheels, and some wire to attach the carriage to a horse. I didn't have a horse big enough to test it, so I borrowed Jenny's pony (I didn't want the pink one, but it was the only one she would give me) and tied the wire to it. It worked perfectly, and I smiled and moved the pony a few inches forward, the carriage rolling smoothly.

I carefully unwrapped the wire from the pony's neck and froze as I heard the fire alarm go off, loud and clear. A burning smell tickled my nose and I gasped. Mom's dinner, on the stove! Something must have happened!

From that moment, the house was hectic. My dad kept asking why the fire alarm went off (he was upstairs in his office), and by the time we got downstairs, the fire had engulfed the whole kitchen, quickly spreading as most things in our house were wood—the floors, the table, the counters, the pictures on the wall, the chairs…

The next thing I knew, I awoke in a hospital, the walls white, the stench of smoke still burned into my nostrils. My mouth was parched; it ached for water. A nurse was at my side as soon as my eyes had opened, holding a straw to my lips. I sucked in eagerly, the water cooling the flame in my throat.

A badly burned pink pony sat on the counter next to me, and all of a sudden I remembered what had happened.

The nurse told me I was the only one who made it.

And even at 6 years old, I knew enough to know what that meant.

That my family was gone.

One of my arms were so badly burned they had to replace the skin, taking some from my thighs, a bright red scar tracing from the top of my shoulder to my elbow, a matching scar on the inside of my right thigh. It hurt like crazy, but even that pain didn't beat out the pain my heart was enduring. My throat was closed up tight and my eyes were squeezed shut.

I was praying to everything I believed in at 6 years old that this was just a dream, just a dream, but yet, when I opened my eyes, I saw that disfigured pink-black lump of a pony that I had gripped so tightly in the fire, and knew that I would never see my family again.

End flash back.

I sighed and let the tears drip down my cheeks. I hadn't cried since the 5th year mark, exactly 6 years ago. I rolled up the left sleeve of my brown shirt, tracing the pink scar from my shoulder to my elbow. I thought I could feel phantom pain—I felt it, but yet I knew it wasn't there, that my imagination was making it up.

It felt good to cry, and I blinked my wet green eyes, another few tears rolling down my face, disappearing into the fabric of my shirt.

I missed them terribly, of course. And I'm not sure the ache in my chest would ever completely heal, or even dull over time, but maybe in a few years I'd be able to look back on my family and, you know, smile. It was possible. Maybe in 20 years, I'd even be able to laugh and not cry at all upon remembering them.

I glanced up at the sky, clouds drifting across the sun, then down at my arms. I guess I was getting a tan, and I couldn't help but snicker a little bit. Who thought about tanning when you were remembering your dead family?

I ran my hands through my shaggy bronze hair. It was a mess, and I hadn't even considered brushing it this morning. Alice seemed to have this weird sense when any kind of beauty product was touched, including a hair brush.

And anyways, the girls like it this way, unkempt and messy. People actually thought I worked to keep it this way. As if I'd care about my hair!

I smiled again and sighed deeply, jumping when I felt a spray of icy water. The wind was stronger and I just happened to be down wind, so I was sure to feel another few bursts of ice.

I just sat there for the longest time, not thinking, or worrying, or hurting, just… being. After a while the sun began to set, and my stomach grumbled angrily. I'd eaten around 10 AM in Oregon, and here it was, at least 7 hours later without a morsel of food. A guy's gotta eat, you know!

I finally got up, wincing at my cramped muscles. I stretched and little and carelessly hopped down the steps, my stomach ruling my thoughts. I all but ran to my car, getting in and driving to the nearest McDonalds©. Going through the drive-thru, I ordered two Big Macs©, a large fries, and a large soda.

I scarfed all that down in moments, my hunger satisfied—for the moment, anyways.

I filled up my gas tank, not looking forward to the long, 10 hours-or-more ride home. If I started now (It was 8 PM), I could make it home without having to stop. Sure, I'd be dead tired, but I didn't feel like having to stop, either. I had Carlisle's credit card so if I charged a hotel room on it, then he would know where I'd been… Not that my family didn't make assumptions.

After hours of driving in silence, the two coffees gone, I entered this odd, wide-awake-yet-exhausted-beyond-relief stage. I couldn't even close my eyes for more than a moment if I wanted too. Well. I suppose it was useful, albeit a bit annoying because all I wanted to do was shut my eyes for a few minutes.

I had no doubts that if I did, though, I'd fall asleep right into the steering wheel and probably cause an accident! That wouldn't look too good to Carlisle, who would probably be contacted…

I think I'll stay awake.

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10 hours after I had gotten on the Freeway, I arrived in Forks. It was just past six in the morning and the sun was starting to rise.

I pulled into the driveway, took the key out of the ignition, stumbled into the house and up to my bedroom, and promptly fell asleep.

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Ta-da! Second chapter finished. I hope you guys liked it and all. I felt pretty crappy while writing it (coughing up a lung and all), but I think I did okay.

Review and let me know what you think! I can't promise I'll use any ideas you give me (since I probably have most of the story written), but who knows? So give me your thoughts and ideas, constructive criticism etc, and in the next chapter I'll post my favorite reviewers!

*Pokes nice big review button below*