Hi, Kynthia here! I got bored so I wrote more.

PS. I don't own Twilight

Flight

Today I was leaving Pheonix; a stupid decision, but one that I was more than happy to act on. I hated the heat. Thank goodness we had moved away from the city and into the smaller town of Wickenburg after I had complained about the city enough to drive Renee crazy.

In the state of Washington, under a constant cover of clouds, there exists a small town called Forks. I love Forks. The rain, shade and cold had been my comfort during the summers when the only alternative would be spending my time in the Blistering heat of the desert. It was to Forks I now sent myself, with abounding glee.

I felt bad about leaving Renee, but I knew she'd be happier now. She'd be able to stay with Phil on the road, and I knew she disliked staying home with me when he was away. I wanted her to be happy. I'd miss her. I would miss our little house and her snores from the other room. The coyotes howling, the stars shining and the craggy peaks of the mountains jagging like a city skyline in the distance.

We were already at the airport, waiting for my flight. My mom and I spoke while the other flyers were being called to board. "I'll miss you mom. Don't worry, I'll write to you every day. I doubt you'll even notice that I'm gone." I said, more confidently than I felt. Whenever I lied, I usually had to leave before I got to guilty and admitted the truth. Knowing this, my mother just laughed. So, hugging my mother goodbye, I boarded a plane to Tacoma and gazed out the plane window as I watched Arizona get farther and farther away.

I didn't mind the plane rides. It was more the ride with Charlie. It was kind of awkward with him. I could talk about the weather, or the latest story in the paper, but we didn't spend enough time together so that we could really relate to one another.

Charlie was waiting for me in his police cruiser. It was a bad omen, not at all like the rain, which was actually just plain inevitable. Our conversation was short, not at all wordy. "So… Why'd you decide to come to Forks Bells?" "No reason. Bored of the sun, I guess." "Oh." Every now and then he or I would take a stab at conversation, and fail miserably. When we finally arrived at his tiny house, I realized exactly what I was signing on for. He probably didn't know how to cook, and from past experience I knew he didn't have a dishwasher. I was doomed.

In the driveway there was a faded red pickup. It was big and looked tough, like it could demolish any car it wanted to and walk away unscathed. When Charlie told me it was mine, I hugged him, something that was usually awkward for both of us, but suprisedly wasn't this time. Between my "oh thankyouthankyouthankyou"s, Charlie managed to squeeze in that Billy Black, his friend from the Quileute rez had sold it to him cheap. I was glad I had put up with the fishing trips then, even if they had been impossibly boring.

I sighed and beat Charlie to the door, waiting impatiently for him to get to the door and open it. Getting inside, I felt like it would have been better if I camped out in the car. The house looked too much the same. Bright yellow cabinets painted by Renee, all the old family photos… It sort of creeped me out that he had never gotten over my mom. I wished they could have been happier together.

I hurried upstairs before Charlie could ask questions. Neither of us were good with conversations. My room was the same as always. Old secondhand computer at a desk, rickety bed frame and faded quilt, yellowing lace curtains and early drawings pinned up on the wall. My sketchbook, pencils and paints were even on the unfilled half of my desk. Charlie hadn't forgotten a thing.

He remembered too much from the old days, I concluded there suddenly. He had unpacked my books and put them in the bookshelf categorically, even organized the sheet music for the miniature harp he had bought me for my birthday one year. That sat in the corner next to a cushion and my favorite blanket. Even Coconut, my teddy bear, was still here in this room. I dumped my stuff on the floor and collapsed into bed, yanking on pajamas and stripping off dirty clothes as I went down. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

At 4am the next morning, I woke up, unable to sleep. There was no solace in the world was there? I took my sketchpad from the desk and opened it to the next blank page. As I dozed I sketched, letting my subconscious deposit it's worries on paper instead of inside my already clogged head.

My mother had always said I had an unhealthy obsession with drawing, but really she didn't understand. I had told her plenty of times that I felt like nobody could truly empathize with my thoughts and getting them down on paper was just… relief, sort of. I glanced down at the paper and jerked myself fully awake.

I had drawn eyes. Eyes that were glaring up at me with unmistakeable loathing. They looked scary, like they wanted to murder me, impale me on a steel spike and splatter my entrails around me as I screamed in horror. This was not an optimistic drawing. WHY WAS I DRAWING IT THEN???? Slapping my forehead, I put my sketchpad back on my bedside table and flopped back into a laying down position.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine patterns that weren't there. The rain splattered on the windows and pelted the roof while the wind howled around the house. It wasn't coyotes, but it was enough to get me to sleep.

I had no idea what my first day at forks high would be like.

How's that? I had no idea what to do writing a Bella as me POV thingie. I hope I did ok. SEND ME REVIEWS PLZ PLZ PLZ!!!!

Kynthia