I hope you like this...

I don't own Twilight, but I do own my OC.

Enjoy!

P.S Katherine White, My profile picture is kind of what I want Lara to look like, but a bit more punky. I know it's Manga, but thats how I kind of imagined her.

Lara P.O.V

I felt cold glass against my forehead, and opened my eyes to find myself staring out of a window. A car window. A police, car window.

Ok, what the Hell did I do?

I turned my head to the right, to see a middle-aged man with brown hair and a mustache driving the car. He started to speak, and I resisted the urge to see his his facial hair was real.

"Bella - I got you car. Real cheap." My eyes widened. Bella? Car? Police Cruiser? What is wrong with the world?

"Huh?"

He continued, ignoring my dumb-struck expession.

"You remember Billy? Well he's in a wheel-chair now, so he doesn't need it. Said he'd sell it to me."

And then it clicked.

And I had to stop myself from screaming.

He had called me Bella, as in Bella Swan. He had a mustache, just like Charlie Swan. He was a cop, just like Charlie Swan. He was going to buy a peice of shit - Oh sorry, I mean a truck - just like Charlie Swan.

I glanced down at myself. My hair wasn't blue, it was brown, I was taller and thinner than before, my skin was a little paler, and I was wearing the most hideous shirt I had every seen with plain blue jeans.

"Oh - really?" I almost choked on the words. Ok Lara, no need to break down now. Save it for the confined rooms and straight jackets.

Charlie glanced at me. "Yeah. It's an old thing, but it runs great."

"You said it was cheap. Like dirt-cheap, or heap-cheap or just cheap?" I asked. Bella asked something like that... Right..?

"Well, I actually already bought it. As a homecoming gift."

Ah, now I remember why my thirty-minuet Bella's-Truck-Sucks Rant was so long. You do not buy such crap for your only daughter.

"Cool." I said with strained enthusiasm. Charlie didn't notice, and stopped the car. My eyes flashed to the house before us.

It was worse than I thought it would be.

I grabbed 'my' bags and made my way upstairs in silence, dropping Bella's shit on the bed. Charlie left quickly, after making a comment that went in one ear and out the other.

With the door closed, I dropped to my knees, hands knotted in my now-brown hair, and muttered to myself like a mental case.

After half an hour, thousands of suicidal thoughts and a hundred face-palms, I started to unpack the stuff that I refused to call mine.

Because I wasn't Isabella Swan. I was Lara Jayne Swan. Oh dammit I sound like one of her bloody relatives. Ok, thats it. I'm offically taking my mother's maiden name. I shall now be known as Lara Jayne... Holy shit I don't know my mother's maiden name.

Fuck!

I kicked the side of the bed, and bit my lip to stop a string of loud profanties when my foot connected with the hard wood.

An hour more of this, and I'd be a bloody self-harmer.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

Life. Fucking. Sucks.

The next day was better, and worse.

Better because I had come to terms with being in Forks, worse because I actually quoted Twilight.

I made my way to the school, swearing and listening to rock music on the God-awful radio.

I climbed out of the truck, got my time table (I also managed to scare the reception lady.), and narrowly avoided a conversation with Mike Newton. It took all the control I had not to punch his teeth in and laugh about it.

I struggled through my lessons, especially when Jessica started to talk to me. It was literally Hell.

Maybe thats what this is.

I wasn't that bad in my life before, but I probably commited a few... Loads of crimes and sins. Like profanity, drugs once, drinking a bit, fighting. Nothing all that serious, like knife-crime or theft. Ok so I a car-jacked my bestfriends Audi.

It's her fault for teaching me how to hot-wire a vehicle.

So, as a conclusion, this must be Purgatory, Hell, or something of the sort. I'm not a religious person, God no (Pun definately intended), but after this, I probable shouldn't rule out any possibilities yet.

And so, I marched towards my fate with my head held high, and foul-mouth.

I feel sorry for everyone, I met that day.

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- INDIGO FATE