This is the next chapter to my story and I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any characters mentioned in this story.
Chapter 1
I often thought this life wasn't mine, maybe they gave me to the wrong parents in hospital or I was kidnapped at birth. The women seated on the shabby old sofa was nothing like me and the half drunk excuse for a man seated half on and off the chair in the corner looked nothing like me. The room I stood in didn't seem like the living room id known for all my life, it was as if the life had been sucked from it and the three souls that rested there. It had not always been this way, my parents were once loving people and I was once a happy child. My father used to smile and I used to love my mothers laugh, I can't remember the exact date things changed or why but they just gave up and I soon followed. The chair groaned and my head shot up to see my father try to stand on unsteady feet, he held on to the crumbling fireplace as he steady him self and walked towards the kitchen, has he passed me a can was thrown in my direction.
"Bin it"
Two words spoken and I am running. the small t-shirt and ripped pants clung to my body has I ran through the rain to the end of the garden, I knew the clothes that I now had on wouldn't be changed for at least a few days so it was best to keep as dry as I could. The winds howled and blow the soggy leaves across the garden, yet another wet day as usual. My whole body shivered as I ran back to the house, I didn't own a coat as I never went outside anymore and father said there was no need for one. As I reached the steps to our porch I caught my bare foot on a sharp rock throwing me of my feet and on to the bottom step. The broken chipped step stabbed in to my hand and I had to hold my breath so I wouldn't scream. When I entered the house my father was falling back in to his seat with a fresh can in hand?
The pain in my foot made it self known have I searched the kitchen for any clean cloths. The small room was in darkness as my father hated to waste electric and I had to use the light from refrigerator to see where I was walking. Every surface in the room was cluttered with dirty plates and washing my mother never thought to do, id tried many times to do house work since I was tall enough to see over the worktop but it always ended up the same way so I gave up. washing up the plates that were needed at the time just seemed easier and father only let me use the washing machine once a day so I only washed my clothes, this was something my mother didn't like and id received many whacks to the head from her soiled slipper has I walked past her spot on the sofa. The once cream curtains now hung down from the broken pole looking as gray as the sky outside and as lifeless as the dead tree lying across our front garden. the table in the corner of the room had a leg missing and had done since I could remember, mother told me there was once four chairs but now only sat one, the others were burnt in the fireplace when father wanted to save his money for something else. Finally I found a rag that seemed to be the cleanest one and sat close to back door, the large moon helped me seen the damage to my foot and hand.
I can only remember a few times when I was a happy child, my mum Renee Swan would try to hide a small present under my bed at Christmas or on my birthday before my father woke, she would bring me a warm glass of milk and sit with me while I ripped the paper from my gift. She never once said 'happy birthday dear' or 'merry Christmas' and because I was young I just thought she didn't know how to say those words and I would say them to her in hopes that I could teach her. On my 12th birthday my mum slept in a little longer than she normally would and when she came in to my room I knew that year would be the last I ever saw of any sort of present. The left side of her face was purple and black, her left eye was swollen shut and she wobbled to the foot of my bed with a limp. She explained to me that my father had found the present before she could hide it and he asked her for an explanation, when she told him what it was for he had punished her. She said she shouldn't have kept such a thing from him. Me and my mother shared the same dark hair and when washed the red highlights always shone through, our deep chocolate eyes were faded from the years of hard life. That day I could see last remaining light in my mother's eyes die, her shoulders fell like she had sunk into her self and I couldn't do anything to help her. That was the beginning of my mothers spiral downwards and she began drinking until she couldn't walk up the stairs or stand from her seat on the sofa.
Every night at five thirty the front door would shut and slam there would be 7 thunder steps across the room, the chair would groan announcing the arrival of my father. Charlie Swan was the chief of police in the small town of Forks, Washington and to everyone in the real world he was a different man. He spoke well to his work friends, his uniform was clean and ironed every evening-by me-and he always looked like he came from a millionaires home instead of the dirty and broken home he lived in. no one ever came here has he had told people that my mother was ill. When ever he was asked to go somewhere with his family again he used the excuse of my mother being ill and this too meant that I had to stay at home to look after her. Every year he would go to a charity store and find any clothes I could fit into and find another dress and cardigan for my mother, if I ever said I didn't like the clothes he brought he would take it out on my mother and after the first two beatings she received I kept my mouth shut and just accepted them. Father would do the grocery shopping and never let anyone past our front gate, I knew he was ashamed of his family and home; he made that clear by never sending me to school. Mother never left the house, she said she couldn't embarrass my fathers name by showing her face when she didn't look respectable. I remember going to the park around my ninth birthday and again going to the store when I was 11 but after that I can not remember seeing past the garden gate.
When I was younger my mother always told me father hadn't always been a cold hearted man. she told me he was just overworked and since I came along the work just seemed harder. After hearing this from my mother I knew the reason for my parents being this way was my fault, maybe if I hadn't been born they would be happy, my mother would be the school teacher she wanted to be and father could take his wife to parties and dinners without worrying about money or me. Id never thought of killing my self and I don't think I could bring myself to do it anyway, the years had been hard but I knew id get out of here at some point and this thought is what helped me along. The thought of being able to live in my own home and be able to buy my own things is the only thing that kept me sane.
"Isabella Marie Swan"
I sighed and slowly stood from my spot on the floor, it was Saturday evening and my parents now wanted their dinner making and the washing finished. I may have wished for a better life in the future but this is the life I have at the moment and life must go on.
I know this chapter is short but I just wanted to get some details out before the plot begins. Hope you enjoy and please review.
Lilbear :*