Hey guys! Finally updated~

Sorry, but I split chapter one again; I'll more than likely finish it by tomorrow. I couldn't handle the amount of space I was taking up with this…

I didn't sleep well later that evening. I had my share of silent tears pour down my cheeks, but even after that I couldn't find any settlement. The rain slamming against the roof along with the wind heaving into the window couldn't fade off into white noise so it had remained loud and focused all night.

I had tried to pull the cold quilt over my head, and then added the stiff pillow. It did nothing to keep the noise from reaching my ears and I couldn't sleep until well after midnight, when the noise finally settled out.

I opened my eyes to a wet, fog-stained window. I sat up slowly, and yawned. The fog was too thick to see out of, and I felt trapped; like I was stuck inside of a bubble, being led around by others. I missed the sky; there was no fog to cover it in Phoenix.

I quietly walked downstairs to the table and sat down. Charlie was there already, reading the paper. I looked for some type of healthy food, and went back upstairs, unsuccessful, in a bit of a huffy mood. I got changed and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I walked down again.

Charlie looked up and acknowledged me for the first time today with a slight nod. "Good luck Bells," he said rather bluntly. I stopped in my tracks, a bit surprised. "Thanks," I said with a brief pause, although I knew his wishes for me to fit in and have a good day were wasted. Good luck, of all the types of luck out there, tended to avoid me.

He left after he said this, setting the paper down to grab his coffee and headed out the door. He was off to the police station, the only thing that pinned him down to Forks. It was, in a way, his metaphorical family. When he left, I sat down in the same-for-eighteen-years unmatching chair, next to the others of the wrong set. I looked around more clearly at my surroundings. The counters were white, gray, all drained of color. It matched the fog outside the window, and I felt a pulling feeling, that the blank area would suck the little color and life out of me as well. My mother must have felt the same, I thought, looking up at the faded yellow, light blue and green cabinets, that she had insisted on painting to bring out some of the color. The fireplace nearside the door in the other adjoining room was located under an assortment of photographs; a wedding photo with my mom and Charlie in Vegas; the three of us after I was born. The rest were highlighted on no one but me; each a school picture, taken from preschool up to last year. I winced a bit, noticing the huge unsubtle shift from a family to just focusing on the embarrassing photographs of a girl blindly going through the years, each year becoming increasingly difficult and awkward than the previous. I was going to have to hide them, or flip them over-or, better yet, replace them with photos of my friends…shoot that idea. Didn't have any.

Going back to the sudden change of photographs, it wasn't that hard to realize that Charlie hadn't gotten over my mom, at least, not completely. Maybe he just avoided the thought, didn't look at the pictures as he walked by everyday. Standing up and walking over to them to get a better look, I noticed another photograph underneath one of my elementary school photos. It was a picture of Charlie and a man sitting in a wheelchair, both holding fish. A little boy was next to the man in the wheelchair. I frowned a little, looking closely at the picture. Charlie seemed pretty happy.

My watched beeped and I jumped a bit, walking over to my bag to look at it. It signaled it was 6:00.

I didn't want to go to school and seem any more awkward than I am, but after looking back at the pictures from across the room, their faces seemed mocking and crude. Turning to see the colorless blank window and counters helped to persuade me that it was time to leave the house. Besides, I should probably make sure the great orange monster could still move before it's the last second.

I slid the bag over my shoulder and pushed open the door. Pulling out my keys from my pocket and jingling them to make sure they were there without actually having to look at them, I walked up to the truck. The splashes my boats made as I walked sounded wrong, foreign; I wasn't used to water everywhere. It was still drizzling, but I didn't feel weird carrying an umbrella. In Forks, based on what I knew from my times here, everyone should have to carry an umbrella around.

I hurried to the truck, trying to escape the fog that engulfed me. It was warm inside, but the dry air still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline and…peppermint? I scooted from the shotgun to the driver's seat. Whether it was Charlie or his friend that had cleaned the car, I can only guess what types of events occurred in here, just based on the smell. Thank god they cleaned it.

I rammed my key into the slot and turned it slightly, not expecting a reaction. To my surprise, it roared loudly, and I twisted the keys even more, until the car was ready to move. I pulled down the lever to R expectantly, and it froze in place. I inhaled slowly, trying to keep patience, and it began to creep out of the driveway into the thick white fog wall that separated me from the rest of the universe.

Finding the school wasn't tough, though I had never been or seen it before. Like most things in this town, it was off the highway that normal people took when they wanted to get someplace warmer, some place with some life. It blended in with the nearly-faded-by-fog surrounding dull maroon houses so well, that it was only the sign declaring that it was the school that convinced me to pull into the parking lot. Its size increased dramatically as I pulled in closer, but still held nothing in comparison to the elementary schools or ballet schools of my childhood days.

I drove up to what I figured was the main office or front entrance to the school. No one else was parked in the area, but I parked anyways, figuring someone would instruct me to move so I wouldn't have to drive around and walk to the school five miles away in the rain like an idiot. I stopped and sat in the car, looking outside. I could see the rough brick through the rain and contemplated getting out. Did I really need to? I could easily enroll online, or somewhere else…

Pushing the ridiculous thoughts from my mind, I pushed open the door, quietly walking into the building with a small sigh. It was brightly lit, and the contrast between inside and outside caused me to shield my face. The lights were overly bright, and fake. It made the potted plants everywhere seem artificial. If the two were brought together to distract people from the absence of color outside, it must not have been noted by anyone but me that the walls, the floors, the doors, were all shades of white and gray. It was perfect; I couldn't escape the life sucking emptiness of the town. Maybe after school they'd take me to the boiler room and inform me this was the center of their world sucking organization, and that newcomers weren't welcome. Or maybe just that I wasn't welcome; I typically never was.

I pushed open the only slightly tan door in the hall and walked in. I hesitated on the orangey carpet, looking at the red haired woman sitting across a room-dividing counter, carrying stacks of wire-made trays. Their contents involved more bright florescent colors, staining my eyes once more.

The woman turned to pick up something on her desk and noticed me. She tilted her head curiously at me. "Can I help you?" I could see her a little more clearly and saw she was wearing a deep purple t-shirt. Unusual combination, considering the outside weather and the inside carpeted floors.

"I'm Isabella Swan," I coughed out; throat suddenly clamping up and refusing to move. Her eyes lit up with comprehension and expected awareness, and turned to pull something from her desk. I figured people would recognize more than just the last name; the police officer's daughter, who was taken off by his flighty wife. If they did end up taking me somewhere to suck my soul and life out, they'd probably laugh among themselves later. See? They'd say, no doubt toasting amongst themselves. Nobody ever gets away from us.

The woman stood up and handed me a tiny half sheet, containing my day schedule. She went back and began flipping slowly through a large stack of papers, all which seemed to be unorganized in any way shape or form.

Around the bottom she pulled out a map and stretched out her hand to me. I walked over quickly to the counter and leaned over to try and reach it. When it was in my hand, I stepped back and my ankle randomly gave way, and I tripped my knees. Blushing, I pulled my bag back up to my shoulder, mumbled a goodbye and walked out the door.

I turned back to the parking lot and to my car. Some students were already starting to cluster, and gave me silent stares. I pursed my lips a bit and continued walking, slightly picking up speed. It wasn't too far from my truck and I slid back in easily, using the thick fog as an advantage to shield me from the other people.

I sighed, and looked through the papers that had been thrust to me. One of them seemed to be a teacher sign thing that I figured I'd have to return by the end of the day. Probably to spy on me and make sure I wouldn't expose the secret labs underneath the school.

I flipped to the map and tried to memorize it as quickly as possible. I didn't want to get lost and give people more reasons to look at me. I pushed the rest of my papers into my bag absentmindedly, still focusing on the map. Maybe I can do this, I thought weakly in an attempt to settle my nerves. No one is going to bite me…Maybe suck the life out of me, but no biting.

I exhaled and marveled in the realization that I was holding my breath. I slowly turned to watch the students walk into the building, some gaping at my truck, others ignoring it. I couldn't decide which group I liked better, the one acknowledging my existence or the others simply brushing past it. Maybe the latter group should be split into the ones who noticed but decided not to pay attention or the ones that couldn't see the faded orange through the fog.

I opened the door as another batch of the ignoring kids who passed by and I tried to blend in casually within their cluster. They paid no heed to me, making me suspect that there weren't any subsections to their overall group. I pulled my jacket hood up higher, glad to notice that it seemed to be a mainstream fashion.

I walked in the crowd past the cafeteria and then my quick memorization skills worked for the first time in my life and I remembered how to navigate across over to building three. It wasn't hard to find after that; a big black "3" was painted on a white tile. Otherwise it looked like any other building in the area. As I got closer, I felt my chest clamp up. My heart began to thud and I almost stopped walking. I tried to settle my hyperventilation and focused on getting to the door. There were two girls ahead of me, and they walked into the building with me. I followed their suit and hung my jacket up where coats were being hung. They were both brown-haired, one with porcelain skin and the other with pale skin.

Well, now I see the drainage of color has begun.

I dropped my act of follower and slowly stepped my way over to where the teacher was, or at least, who I presumed to be the teacher. He looked pretty bored, until I handed him my slip. He gave me a sour unfamiliar look, glanced down at the paper and then grew wide-eyed and, and I kid you not, gawked at me. Of course, this didn't help my already near-to-passing-out heart and I flushed a deep red, staying rooted to my spot. This also didn't help the stay-invisible position I wanted to take.

Thankfully, he sent me to the back of the room with no introductions. I'd wonder why he did that later; I was busy looking over the reading list and trying to get the feeling of eyes pouring onto me to fade away.

Most of the books listed were ones I had read in school previous years; the curriculum here seemed to be years off from that of Paradise Valley District where I lived. I considered asking my mom to email me my old essays as I hadn't packed a flash drive or anything write-y to accompany me on the trip to Kingdom Come. Hey, if I'm going to have my soul swallowed up by the end of the day, I may as well come to terms with it now.

I wonder if my mom would think it was cheating to send up the essays. I wonder if she'll even have time to send them up. I wonder if she'll even see the email. I went through my wondering and several scenarios involving the essays and her that ended in yelling as the teacher droned on in the background of my mind. The only thing I heard in class was the bell ring, and when it did, my bag suddenly dropped from my hands, contents spilling over the floor.

Blushing again, I got down on my hands and knees, picking everything up as quickly as possible. A shadow emerged over me and I looked up to see a kid smiling down at me. He had really slick shiny black hair that gave off the appearance of an oil spill. I smiled nicely at him, but inside I groaned. I didn't want any friends, or anyone to talk to for that matter.

"I'll take it you're Isabella Swan?" He asked, already sure of the answer. I looked back down at my stuff, hiding my smile fade down into an apathetic stare. "It's just Bella," I squeaked, trying to divert attention away from myself. It didn't work; I looked up half a second later to see everyone within a three yard radius to turn to stare blankly at me. The blank faces sent me back to staring at the floor. I was going to end up like that.

This kid seemed like the overly helpful desperate-for-a-friend type but didn't even bother to help me with my things. Great, we've got fakes here too, I thought bitterly, standing up and walking past the aisles of chairs and desks. The kid followed suit, looking down at a white index card he held. "What class do you have next?" He bounded and hopped over desks to catch up next to me.

I paused, opening my bag and scrimmaging though to find the card. I briefly considered lying, but we've all seen how it comes out. "Government with Jefferson." I had taken government last year. I guess moving from a big city to a small town meant you gave up the credits you've already received and had to start over from scratch.

The kid smiled, seemingly for his own intents. "Oh, I have a class in building four. You're looking for building number six." He somehow managed to maintain eye contact with me, though I kept turning away. "I could show you the way, if you wanted."

Yep. Desperately helpful all right.

He extended his hand over his shoulder in an odd position to shake hands with me. "I'm Eric," he said confidently, giving a little nod. I smiled softly. "Thanks."

I pulled my jacket off the coat hanger, and it somehow got stuck. Eric pulled his off successfully and walked to the door, obviously not the helpful type. Just sticking up for the new girl for some brownie suck-up-to-teacher points.

I managed to yank my jacket off the hook without spilling anything again, and strode to the door, head faced downward as to avoid any eye contact. Eric rejoined me as I walked outside. The rain picked up again.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?"

"Very." I mumbled out, noticing the crowd directly behind us. They were close enough to eavesdrop. I know I'm being paranoid but I felt like they were sent to make sure I didn't plant any thoughts of escape into the thoughtless happy-go-lucky students or citizens of Forks.

I reached into the bag to pull out my safety umbrella, and held it up over my head. Eric looked at me from the outside, a bit peculiarly. "It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

I shrugged. "Three or four times a year."

He paused with his questions. "Wow," he said at last, exhaling a smidge. "I wonder what that must be like…"

"Sunny." I said squarely, trying to put the thoughts of secret government organizations outside of my thoughts. He frowned at me, and grabbed hold of my arm, lifting the hand delicately.

"You don't look very tan," he pointed out. I snatched my hand away sourly.

"My mother is part albino." I said with a slight sigh of exasperation. He began to study my face much like he had done my hand. Obviously part of the sucking process left people with humors to stand out like a sore thumb. A few more hours of this and I'll have forgotten sarcasm.

We continued walking back around the cafeteria and towards the gym buildings. Even though like building three it was clearly marked, Eric walked me all the way up to the door. As soon as I lay my hand onto the handle to open the door, he decided to speak again. "Good luck. Maybe we'll have some more classes together." He said, acting as if he expected a warm exchange in return. I closed my eyes and faced him, smiling vaguely and walked in, not looking at his reaction. I'll let him interpret my smile.

My morning went smoothly, as far as smooth goes in a government agency lab. The Trig teacher, Mr. Varner, was the only teacher who felt compelled to make me stand in front of the class in silence and introduce myself. Of course, in my rush to the seat, I successfully managed to fumble over my own feet and landed on the floor. I had blushed even more, and half crawled, half stumbled to the seat.

After my first two classes, I started to notice a repeat in faces. There would be someone brave who came up to me and introduced themselves, and like Eric, began questioning me about what I felt about Forks and Phoenix. I tried to hide my true colors from possible lurking scientists that could be nearby, but it made me sound blank and uninterested, let alone just plain and awkward. I lied a lot too, and tried to keep my composure convincing. Hopefully it worked.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and in Spanish, and walked with me towards the cafeteria for lunch. To be honest, I didn't bother remembering her name, but she was tiny; much smaller than even my five feet four inches. Her thick curly hair seemed to make up for it. I wasn't listening to her as she prattled about teachers and students; just nodded at appropriate times.

We both sat at the end of a table, where most of her friends resided. After more introductions, which I had promptly forgotten after addressed, and questions had been asked, the table emerged into talking and joking of all sorts. I looked around boredly, and noticed Eric from English. He was sitting with more fancily dressed students. He noticed me, smiled and waved. I gave a slight upturn of my lip, enough to pass as a smile, and continued looking around the lunch room.

I was staring at a particular location in the wall for no reason when I noticed the door open in my peripheral vision. I looked over to see a new group of students walk in, one I hadn't seen earlier. They walked to the corner I had been staring at and sat down at the only table available there. They didn't follow suit like the other kids; they didn't talk and didn't seem to have any food.

Looking down at my tray with just an apple, I didn't feel very hungry anymore. After seeing these kids, I felt for sure that I was going to be brainwashed or killed or whatever. They were pale as chalk, palest I had seen so far in this town, and dark black eyes. They were either just drained with no appetite or reason to talk of the horrible ordeals they had faced, or they were a part of the secret organization. They weren't staring at me, like every other student in the room, so it was safe for now. But still; my appetite was gone.

They still held individuality though; I could look forward to still looking plain and white after this mess. There were three boys and two girls. The girls differed immensely in height and in hair color, along in styles; the short, brown-haired pixie cut girl wore dark black gothic Lolita, while the other was a bleach blonde girl who you would expect to see on a sports or fashion magazine.

The guys didn't look alike either; there was a blonde, a dark curly-haired boy and another smaller bronze-haired kid. The curly-haired boy looked seriously strong and tough, but didn't give off a serious threat vibe. The two others didn't look nearly as fit but were both lean. The bronze haired one looked more boyish or younger than the rest of the men, who looked like they could all be in college, or even teach.

I couldn't find any similarity between the people, any common dressing interest or anything else to define their "group." They didn't fit into the two I had thought of earlier this morning and they definitely didn't fit into any social groups I was used to. They were all, however, inhuman-like they all were photoshopped to make teenagers and adults everywhere self-conscious and insecure about their own looks. I couldn't decide who looked more, literal word usage here, beautiful-the blonde haired girl or the bronze haired boy.

Still gazing at them, I tapped the girl I had walked here with. "Who are those people, over there?" I whispered. She looked and nodded in understanding and empathy. "They're the Cullens," she whispered back.

The tiny pixie girl stood up, surprising me and my neighbor, and strode out through the back door in which she had entered. The bronze-haired boy looked up after her with a slight scowl on his face; paused-and then looked towards our direction. It was such a sudden change that my neighbor and I didn't have time to look away before his eyes flickered from her to me. I could see directly at him; his face blank but still positioned to change to a scowl at any moment. He turned away after a few seconds, but what was an eternity to me. I looked down with a deep sigh, unaware I had been holding my breath. My heart began to beat regularly again.

I looked over to my neighbor, who had looked back up from the table in embarrassment to a calm and casual look of news. "That one is Edward, next to him is Emmett," she said, pointing each of them out by name. These names stuck, unlike hers or the other people's names. "The girl who just left was Alice Cullen; those other two, they're Jasper and Rosalie Hale."

Edward turned back to face the group at his table, his back hunched over, like he was talking to them. They all still did not look at each other, or him, but maybe that was to not alert the public. Or me, if they were what I thought they were.

They had pretty strange, uncommon fancy names; the kind that grandparents would be named. I finally remembered my neighbors name as Jessica, a pretty common everyday name. I had two Jessica's in my history class back home. Because this was an uncommon place there was only one Jessica.

"They're all…pretty…good looking." I said, stretching out my thought and deciding on 'good-looking' as appropriate word choice for their drop-dead beauty. She giggled. "Yes! They're all taken though;" and she started to sound like a socialite, gossiping about the town scandal, "by each other.

"Alice and Jasper are together and so are Rosalie and Emmett." She leaned in closer, obviously not finished with her tirade. "And they live together."

Oh. Convenient. They can plot about ways to take my sanity at school and at home. It was odd though, and I forgave Jessica for being gossipy about it; it was something that would cause rumors, even in Phoenix.

"How are they related?" I asked curiously.

"They live with Dr. Cullen and his wife. And, they aren't related. His wife adopted all of them. The Hales-Jasper and Rosalie-are foster kids, and twins."

"They look pretty old to be foster kids…"

Jessica pursed her lips, as if the thought hadn't really hit her. "Well, Mrs. Cullen is…like, their aunt or something? And so she had them since they were eight-ish. They're eighteen now."

I looked away from Jessica back to them. They still stared at walls and avoided any contact with one another. So they're unknown in the town and tend to stick away from people? My horrible imagination this morning was coming true. And their dad was a doctor; they had access to areas where they could cut people open.

Jessica was unaware of my subtle shift of focus away from her to the table in the corner, and continued. "I don't think Mrs. Cullen can have kids," she said airily, with a hint of disgust, "and that's why she adopted so many."

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked, right as she was about to bite into her sandwich. She stopped midway, and gave me a look as though I should know the answer, even if I am new. "Uh…no," she said, setting the sandwich down. "They moved here from…Alaska..?, like, two years ago."

Outsiders huh. Like me. I suddenly felt some pity fly over to them. It was quickly snatched back with reminders that these may as well be the people digging my grave. If they had gotten here two years ago, it probably meant they had joined a sector located here in Forks, and that this whole life-sucking thing was national, or coastal, or even global. On the other hand, I thought briefly, it could mean that they differ in skin color and liveliness because they were still new to the effects of the soul-sucking.

And besides, if they were deemed, by Forks standards, "new," it meant I wasn't anything interesting. Not compared to these creatures.

The one who had looked at me before turned to face me again, eyes blazing into mine, with a much fiercer gaze than he had displayed earlier; like I had done something to offend him. I gasped, and hid my face into my jacket. All the thoughts about him being a victim and my pity for him vanished; as if he was unconsciously reminding me to stay alert.

"So, that's uh…Edward?" I asked, glancing over in Jessica's direction, still trying to avoid his dark glare.

She nodded sourly. "Don't let his uh…looks fool you though. He's gorgeous, but doesn't date. Apparently no one here is good enough for him."

Sensing a past disharmony between her and Edward, I dropped the subject of the Cullen family all together, and glanced over his way to see if he was still glaring at me. His head was turned away, and I bit my lip a bit while looking at his hair; wonder when he turned her down.

The group stood up suddenly, and walked back out the door. Edward looked frustrated, as though I hadn't met some expectation of his. I frowned a bit, but freaked out inside. I needed to avoid them at all costs, I decided. Especially him.

Silly little Bella. You have no idea. Gosh, she's a jerk in this chapter. So awkward and all paranoid. Sorry if it was confusing to have her imagination run off.

Till tomorrow-maybe!