Heyyy! I am SO SO SO sorry that I am a few days late. I totally didn't realize it was the 27th. I've been SO BUSY. Tests, homework, SOCCER. Oh, plus, I got this injury that had me on crutches for a while. I just have a brace/cast thingie now...soo...yea :)

Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight :)

P.S. Forty reviews by next Friday and I'll give you the next TWO chapters right away :)

I headed to Blake's grave, but not before kissing each of my friend's graves and leaving with an, "I love you."

Andrew Blake Williams

September 11, 1908- August 2, 1927

Beloved son and friend

"Hey, Blake," I said awkwardly, putting a red rose on his grave. "I feel so stupid right now." I told him, plopping down on the ground. "You know why?" I asked. "Because, you are alive and here I am, talking to your grave." I shook my head. "I am such a chicken!" I exclaimed while standing. "You know what? I shouldn't even be here right now. I should be with you, or at least in contact with you! I don't care if you hate me. I just need to hear your voice."

I take my phone out and go over to my contacts, but not before I see my recent calls.

Alec Volturi

Wait…what? I haven't called them in fifteen years. I might not use my phone much, but I'm pretty sure I used it two weeks ago. Plus, I got this phone just a few months ago.

Confused, I press on his name and it goes to dial.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring.

"Hi, you've reached Alec Volturi; sorry I couldn't answer the phone, but just leave your name and message after the beep. Talk to you later." Alec's voice said in Italian.

My face breaks out into a frown, but I don't cry. I expected this. I shouldn't have tried in the first place. The Volturi hate me, and I don't blame them. All those promises to keep in touch…were broken. Not by them- but by me. I would hate me too, but you can't blame a girl for trying.

I think about leaving a message, so I bring the phone back to my ear. I hear the soft beep come from the speakers, but I hesitate— instead, closing the phone off. He must have seen my name on his phone before, but why did he let it last for so long? The time shows that it lasted for an hour. Maybe he didn't have his phone with him. But…he always takes his phone with him, I remembered- unless he's completely changed in the past fifteen years.

Why did I stop talking to them? That's what I don't understand. What happened? Did I get too caught up in a life of solitude?

I clear my head of these thoughts; I will deal with all of this when I go back to Forks.

I move to put my phone in my pocket, but not before I feel the letter I took from my house. Curious, I take it out and open the first fold. I look at it, confused. This letter is addressed not only to dad and Lexi, but also to me…

My eyes skim over it once more before I open the next to folds. I skip the body paragraph and freeze at the name of the person who wrote this letter.

I wish you all the best of luck in life,

Esme Platt

It's from…Esme.

I go back up to the beginning of the letter and read from the first word, to the very end.

…all my dreams crashed on September 13th, 1912, the day our daughter, Isabella Marie Platt- Evenson was born. I was so sad, that I didn't get my little boy. And because of that, I despised the little angel in my arms. As she grew up, my hatred for her increased. But, a few months ago, I got the greatest news of my life, that I was pregnant again. I don't know how that happened, but I assure you, that it was your child.

A few of the words stood out for me. First off, she said our daughter, which was strange, as she referred to me as the devil as I was told…and then she called me an angel? Second, she said that she didn't get her little boy.

Did she hate me because I was a girl?

And how the hell did she get pregnant again? There is no way it was my dad's baby.

A few months after, I learned that it was a boy, and all my dreams had come true. Unfortunately, on the day of Bella's sixth birthday, I learned that I had gone through a missed miscarriage. That is when the body doesn't know that the baby growing inside has gone, and thinks that a baby is still forming. My case was rare, as it wasn't found out until the seventh month that my little Tom had perished.

Wow, that's my luck. The baby died on the day of her devil daughter's birth. Worst part, it was a boy. What would she have done if it was a girl?

When you left me at home with Bella, I was still distressed. So…I went to your stash of beer in the closet and…well…got drunk. And when I went to my room, I saw that Bella was there and got extremely angry. Sadly, she was the victim of the anger I've kept hidden inside for six years now. I didn't realize my mistake until after I hurt her. That she wasn't in my room…she was in her own and I was mistaken. I tried to tend to her, but was too late. I realized that I was a monster. Who would harm such an innocent angel?

Okay, now I'm confused. It's okay that she got drunk, but she almost killed me because she thought that I was in her room? What kind of a person wants to kill their child because they were in their room? And I wasn't even in her room! She was drunk for crying out loud! Oh my god.

Humans say that when you are drunk, you do and say everything that is in your mind. So in her mind, she wanted to kill me…and she almost succeeded. Well, she must have been shocked when she saw me at her house that day.

You became a mother figure to Bella and a best friend to Charles, and for that, I thank you. Because of my selfish needs, Bella never got to have a mother she deserved. Because of me, her view on mothers got twisted and my actions made her scared.

I smiled at that. At least she's got her facts right.

The last person this letter is dedicated to is Bella. Hi, honey. I am very sorry, for everything. You've grown up with a mother who hates you. I've ruined your life. I slapped you, disrespected you, hit you, kicked you, tried to embarrass you, and stabbed you in the stomach, but yet, you still say that you love me. I'm sure after recent events, you hate me. I don't blame you. Only a monster could have done what I did to you.

Honey? Did she seriously call me…honey?

Yes, I did grow up with a mother who hated me, but only for a while. Then I got a real mother—someone who loved me for me, no matter what gender I was. She was the one who read me bed time stories, who tucked me into bed, made me soup when I was sick, but most of all, she was there for me when I needed her and when I didn't.

I'm not trying to compliment myself, but I really was an innocent, little girl. Even when my own mother— my own flesh and blood— hit me, I still loved her. And yes, I did hate her—but not after she hurt me, but after a few years, when I was told the full story.

Even though I've hated you over these years, I couldn't help but be happy with the person you're becoming. Being only six, you're very responsible and mature and everybody loves you. I used to hate that about you, but then I thought about it. You are Charles daughter after all.

I smiled at the last sentence. I am my daddy's daughter, and proud.

I've told you lies over the years. You're not ugly. You are actually the most beautiful girl I know. You have your father's eyes and mouth, with my nose and face shape. Your hair…though unusual…is amazing. I've always been jealous of it. You're tall, something I've always wanted, and you are a pure, innocent little southern girl. You take after your father…a lot…and I love that about you. Your beauty shines everywhere.

Now, that is something I definitely know—stupid, perverted boys calling themselves men…with those horrible thoughts flowing around in their heads. Those idiots are lucky that not everyone can read minds.

Good thing I can turn this power off.

You're very smart. Charles is always telling everybody about your IQ. And when I…did...that thing today…you wrote how much you loved Charles and Alexia. I don't know if you did it thinking you were going to die, or because you wanted them to know who your attacker was, or both. Just by reading that little incomplete message, Charles will be able to figure out that it was me.

My IQ? I know that I'm smart, but…IQ? I'll have to ask somebody about that. And I thought I remembered everything.

I don't remember why I wrote that message, but I'm sure it was to tell my father and Lexi that I loved them, not to tell them that it was you- Esme- who tried to kill me.

Charles and I are very lucky to have you, but sadly, I never realized that, and I don't think I ever will. I can't stop hating you. Because you did…unintentionally, ruin my life. Because of my previous pregnancy (you), I lost the child I always wanted. Also because of stress…caused by you.

And…don't worry…you can never be a devil's child. You're just a misunderstood angel.

I skipped the sentence before that first paragraph; I don't need to boost my ego further.

Well, at least she admitted that no matter what, she'll hate me. Join the club, girl, 'cause I will hate you forever, and for me, forever literally is forever.

I get why my father and Lexi hid this from me. This letter didn't make me love—or even like Esme, it made me hate her even more than before. But, it did help me sympathize towards her. She did lose a kid, but she didn't blame herself, she blamed me. It was all her fault! I thought as thunder rumbled from behind me.

I looked up at the sky and all around me. I never even noticed that it was raining. My already form fitting clothes were glued to my body, and water ran down my pale stomach and down my legs. My hair was wet and hanging limp down my body. Water droplets were going down on the letter and spreading out the ink. I folded up the letter until it was a small square. I kept it in my hand as I walked down the dark green hill.

In just a few minutes, I reached the downtown shopping area. I went to a clothing store and discreetly picked the lock with a random bobby pin I found in my pocket. Lucky for me, this town didn't keep security cameras—there was no need to.

I picked out a pair of mildly ripped jeans and a white Polo sweater. I grabbed a black coat that went down to my upper thighs and some tan, heeled boots. I grabbed a purple scarf and a long beaded necklace for the heck of it. I quickly got a bra and underwear and to hide my hands, I took thin black gloves. I took a purse from one of the racks, and as I put items inside of it, I booked a ticket to Port Angeles from the closest airport, which happened to be only twenty minutes away.

I called the local cab company while I was changing in a corner of the wall. Knowing Texas, I took out a pair of aviators to hide my face. The sun comes out at the most random times.

A honk from outside brought me out of my thoughts, the car was waiting for in front of the block of houses, thinking I lived there. I ran out of the store and tried to make it seem like I came from the backdoor of a house.

"Where to?" The cab driver asked as I got in.

"The closest airport please," I told him.

"Sure thing," He started the car and drove west of the town.

In just a few minutes, the beautiful beach from my childhood faded away and turned into a highway. I looked out the window and at the scenery. The rain still hadn't stopped, but it had gotten lighter. As the sun came up, hints of a rainbow showed up in the sky.

"We're here, ma'am. The total will be ten dollars and thirty cents." The cab driver said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, yes, thank you." I gave him the money and got out of the car. I got one of those mini umbrellas out of my purse and opened it as I walked over to the terminal in which my flight was departing.

I went over to the counter and had the worker print out my ticket. I waited impatiently, continuously tapping my foot up and down and moving my fingers in a piano playing-like motion on the desk.

"Here you go, hope you have a nice flight." The attendant told me as she handed me my ticket and boarding pass.

I go through security and sit down in the waiting area. I watch multiple planes land and take off. My eyes travel over to the plane labeled Italian Airlines and I stare at it. If I wanted, I could always book a flight to Italy….

No. I can't. They don't want to talk to me. You have to forget them, Bella, for their sake. Even if you don't want to, just leave them alone, it's what they're doing to you.

An announcement on the intercom jolts me out of my thoughts. I get up and stand in the line to get in the plane. I hand the man my boarding pass. He looks at it, rips it in half, and gives it back to me. He doesn't look at me, he just looks down, and does the same thing over and over again.

I sit down on my seat and put my elbow on the table-like thing that you pop out from the seat in front of you. This wasn't an international flight, so there was no TV screen on the seat. I sigh, oh well, I think, as I take out a book from my purse. I put my sunglasses on top of my head as I open the first page of Romeo and Juliet.

The hours pass by and soon enough, we've landed in Port Angeles. I put my sunglasses back on, because for once, the sun is actually shining down here—just my luck.

I walk out the airport, and stand in line for the airport taxi. I tell the driver to take me to Forks.

The landscape changes fast, going from highways and huge buildings to small roads and a lot of greenery. When we are a mile away from the Cullen's house, I tell the driver to stop.

"But, ma'am, you're asking me to stop on the side of a road. At least let me take you to your house." She says as I get the money out to pay her.

"I've been traveling for hours, I'd like to walk there, I'll pay you for the entire journey, though, so don't worry." I hand her the money and get out of the car before she says anything.

I watch her leave as I walk towards the Cullen's house. I walk past the high school, hiding myself from the students outside. I forgot today was a school day, but I've been gone for a week or so, so it's not surprising. I'll go there to get some stuff after I go to the Cullen's.

As soon as she's gone, I run vampire speed to their house. Breathing in deeply, I walk through their front door, not bothering to knock.

"Bella! You're back!" Rosalie exclaims. She runs up to me to hug me, but I dodge her and go to Esme, who was watching TV with everyone else in the living room. "Bella?" Rosalie questions, confused. I ignore her.

Wanting to make this quick, I walk up to Esme. I take her hand, and put the letter in it. I look at her straight in the eyes, then turn around and walk away from this house.

Thinking quickly, I take a detour to the high school, wanting to avoid the Cullen's. I hear their voices, begging me to stay, but I pay no attention to them, and run away as fast as I can.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, guys! Tell me what you think in a review :) Also, if you have ANY IDEAS, please feel free to mention that in a PM or review :DD

Remember, if I get forty reviews for this chapter by next Friday, I'll give you TWO CHAPTERS right away.