Disclaimer: I don't own twilight, S.M does. Maybe I could rent it from her for the day.

Happy New Year

I slept the whole plane ride from Florida to Port Angeles. It's Sunday so I have to go back to school tomorrow. Since he has been gone I have loved the distraction that is school. It gives me something to do instead of mope and think all day.

When we pulled up at the house I made a beeline for my Porsche. I can sincerely say that I missed it. You might think it's pathetic but most males would date their cars if they could. I could see Charlie giving me a worried and slightly amused look. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck and chest; I forgot I wasn't alone. With the little dignity I had left, I picked myself off the car grabbed my luggage and all but ran up the stairs to my room.

Tomorrow was going to be a long and tiring day. Tomorrow I would become a new Bella. I will stop showing my pain to everyone. I will eat at lunch and talk so that at least I appear normal. I also have a lot of work to catch up on if even want to think about graduating. I even got new clothes and make-up from Renee to try out too. Tomorrow I will go to school un-broken on the outside. I hate that I have to wear the new bright frilly clothes and smear gunk all over my face, but if that's what it takes to get people off my back then I will happily do it. It's going to be hard pretending that I don't ache all over and that I have a huge gaping hole in my chest that feels like it could burst at any given moment, but practice makes perfect .If I just keep up the charade it has to be easier, right?

I decided to unpack all of my new clothes and take a quick shower to get the airplane feeling off my skin. I try to sleep but my jet-lag catches up with me and makes rest impossible. I looked at my new clothes hung over my old rocking chair and realized that this is for the best. I hate seeing my parent's looks of pure pity and concern. I'm hurting Charlie and that I refuse to do anymore. How selfish can I get?

Tonight I actually want to think about him. I should take advantage of the alone time when I can actually just breakdown without the worry of someone overhearing. I think to myself how sudden life is. A few months ago I was happy. Happy? I don't even understand nor do I remember that emotion. It's gone. I don't blame it either. Why would it stick around, I'm a lost cause. I'm not worth it happiness. I hope it found someone who needs it; I reject happiness every time it tries to manifest inside of my empty heart. I was in love, on cloud-nine. It was the best summer anyone could have.

When he first left I blamed the universe for toying with me. I find something so amazing and wonderful and the universe cruelly snatches it away before I can even process it. But then I realized it was him. He left me alone in the woods to get beaten and raped. It was him. He should have just left me alone the first day he met me but no. He had to lead me on and cause me numerous amounts of pain. But maybe it was my fault. I don't blame him for growing bored of me; I'm so plain it's almost disgusting. Maybe he grew tired of having to save me constantly. Maybe he thought of himself more as my babysitter than my boyfriend.

My head was filled with what ifs, why's and maybe's. I eventually tuned out the voices in my head and found the darkness waiting to consume me in what I hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

I woke up early again as per usual. I hopped out of bed and immediately shivered at the cold air now exposed to my warm body. I looked out my window to see that Charlie already left for the station.

Now I have to get to work perfecting my appearance. I have never been the most confident person but maybe this makeover will improve it. I do my morning routine in the bathroom and head back in my room to start my hair by straitening it; I never used a flat iron but my hair does look good. I move on to my make-up. I apply a coat of mascara on my lashes and try not to poke out my eye with the eye-liner. I apply some light brown eye shadow to my lids and finish off my face with some loose powder. For my outfit I choose consists of a faded blue jeans, a long maroon tank-top, black cropped leather jacket and black lace boots that go up mid-calf. I actually look in the mirror for the first time in months and when I look at my reflection I can hardly believe that's me. I look good maybe even considered pretty. I have to scurry out the door if I don't want to be late. I just hope my plan takes effect; I don't have a plan B so it's all or nothing.

Today was probably the longest day of school yet. As soon as I stepped out of the car this morning I swear I could practically hear the whispers. I got compliments on my appearance all day but there were some bad side effects. I was stared at all day which made me want to bury myself in some hole and if I wasn't a stare it was a menacing glare from Jessica or Lauren. I was asked out 4 times today and of course I turned them down. Angela was the only person who seemed curious about my sudden attitude change but she never brought it up. It took a lot of effort to appear unbroken. I already feel drained and I still have chores to do at home.

I parked my car and briskly walked onto the porch. I unlock the door and I have to literally pry it open because of the sticky lock, hang up my wet coat and start cleaning up the pig sty that has become the living room. In the past few months I have huddled up in my bed only coming out to go to school or to use the bathroom. But without my constant maintenance the room looks like a bomb has gone off; there is dust covering everything in a thick coating, the floor could use a well-deserved vacuuming and there are old newspapers spilling off the coffee table onto the floor. I internally scold myself for letting things get this bad.

It takes me an hour, but I eventually finish tackling the living room and move on to the kitchen which I can already guess is in no better shape. I wipe down the counter top and make my way to the overflowing sink full of dishes. I dive in and I only have one knife left to wash but with my terrible luck I end up accidently making a small cut on my wrist.

I looked down at the cut. It wasn't bleeding badly .It stung a little, but I felt something else….relief? The physical pain lessened the emotional pain I was feeling. I could actually take a deep breath without worrying about coming apart at the seams. I was intrigued with this new knowledge. Maybe there was a way to cope. I finished putting the dishes away, wiped off the knife and hurried up the stairs to the bathroom. I spotted the alcohol in the medicine cabinet and applied a tiny amount on the cut. I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from cursing. Once again the pain from the alcohol diminished my eternal ache and release flooded my whole being.

I heard Charlie pull in the driveway and all but felt as I raced into my bedroom. I knew he would freak out if he saw my cut, even if it was minor. He would probably grow suspicious if he saw my cut but I might just be paranoid. If Charlie ever figured out about my cutting he for sure would either send me back to my mothers or some sort of teen recovery center.

I stay in my room for the rest of the night assuring Charlie that I'm just tired when in fact I'm pondering over todays occurrences. My appearance today was the talk of Forks High. Everyone said how nice I looked so the plan must be working. That eased my worries somewhat but what about the cutting. Did I just enjoy causing myself physical harm? I know the risks of such dangerous behavior but the satisfaction I felt is the only thing going through my mind. I felt complete and utter bliss with a small cut I wonder what a larger slash would feel like, but would I risk doing it again?