The person who risks nothing
Does nothing
Has nothing
Is nothing

Self-realisation is harder than
Self Sacrifice
Author Unknown

I stretched my arms lazily and yawned. "Yeah, fine just sleeping" I said my voice still quiet and croaky from nightmares. Then I looked up, it was the mysterious man I had met over the vegetable display the evening before. His eyes were exactly how I remembered them, although now filled with a mix of awe and confusion. And away from the harsh lights of the supermarket, his hair looked a wonderful shade of auburn although, auburn is not really a good enough adjective to describe it, it was browner with bronze and coppery tones. wholly brilliant.

"Sleeping? On the mud?" his velvety voice was incredulous. "Yup, sorry do have the time?" I replied paranoia creeping in, he looked a little surprised, but glanced at his watch. "Quarter to six."

"Sorry, got to go get ready for school." I said running off towards home before I could think to ask I'm why he'd been out before six.

I crept though the emerald front door, silently trying to make deals with God, even the devil if it meant Charlie didn't see me coming in. I held my breath as I twisted the door knob, and let out a sigh of relief, he wasn't sitting up on the sofa waiting for me as I had expected.

I walked though to the kitchen, and threw the switch on the kettle, and made a grab for a mug. Crash it fell to the floor, a hand grabbed my arm.

"Bella, what were you doing outside." Charlie sounded betrayed. "Sorry dad, jeez, you scared me, I was just checking the garden I thought I heard someone out there." His small grin re-lit his face, "ok then, sorry I thought you were sneaking in." I looked up at his face, into his pale grey eyes. "Sneaking's not really my thing dad."

Maybe I really had succeeded in selling what was left of my soul, the only question remaining, was it to the Devil or an Angel?

I rushed my morning routine. A boiling shower, a scorching coffee, books flung in a bag. And then decided to risk the walk to school, it should be simple, just following the main road. I dug my I-pod out of my travel bag, made sure it had charge and left.

The walk seemed to stretch out for hours, music tickling my ears, but there was this itching in my feet I couldn't quite shake out, like something exciting was going to happen. Even the hairs on the back of my neck tingled with anticipation. The grey clouds sheltered me, and for the first time in a long while I felt a glimmer of safety, or refuge.

I arrived at form room a little early, the clock ticked painstakingly, tick, tock, tick, tock. The seat next to me was still empty. Then as soon as the bell started it's, loud, shrill ring, the man I kept bumping into slid though the door, and into the seat next to me.

A small part of me felt like crying, now he would see me for who I was, the real me.

My muscles tensed in voluntarily, and any words I may have considered stuck to my tongue. The guy, Edward, as the teacher called him, seemed to be similarly paralysed, his pale hands griping the seat as if it would jump away from him the second I let go. Form period dragged on, tick, tock, tick, and tock.

I nearly jumped for joy when the bell rang for the second time, and I rushed off to English. It seemed though that Edwards had had an identical notion meeting me at the door. His hand brushed mine, and then my body was aflame.

Shaking my head I looked after him but he had already disappeared into the crowd.

The morning dragged.

And lunch exploded.

I stepped into line, queuing for my lunch, a blue plastic tray clutched under one arm. "Diet coke please, and an apple." I'd never been big on nutrition. Then came the challenge, deciding where to sit. I couldn't see Angela, maybe she'd been held back in class.

I stood next to an empty table deliberating, when who else? Edward Cullen slid into the seat. I stood for a little while, seething. I couldn't sit next to him, or could I? There was definitely something going on, fate or a connection drawing me to him, throwing us together at every opportunity.

Then before I could make my move, his adopted family pulled up the seats next to him, leaving me once again locked out.

I resigned myself to sit alone, on the only empty table, next to the bins. Angela failed to show. It felt like with every bite my stomach filled a little more, but my heart was being drained by each tick of the clock. I could hear musical laughter floating over from Edward's table, drifting on a breeze.

After finishing my food, I walked out to the parking lot, hoping for an empty bench I could do some homework on. I stared at my feet as I walked, but a fierce wind whipped around my hair, wrapping tendrils of deep brown around my eyes, like a blindfold. I lifted my head to wipe my hair from my vision, and as it cleared, the wind died down.

Walking in front of me, with his oh-so casual graceful lope was Edward, a man I barely knew. But his family intrigued me, they seemed to close to each other, so triumphant.

Hesitantly I increased my speed until I was right behind him, my shaking hand closed the gap between us and my pale fingers wrapped around his arm. "Does it hurt" I asked, hoping panic didn't bleed into my words.

He turned. Looking down at me though his long dark lashes, his emerald eyes smouldered as I stared into them. There was a small smile on his perfect lips as he asked "does what?" Maybe he expected a half baked chat up line or something.

"Being happy?" I finished my question, and it broke my heart.