Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

Chapter 2

I awoke slightly more refreshed than usual, and thanked the lord that I got some sleep after last night. Before I got in the shower I laid out my clothes and checked last night's bandages. The one around my torso was doing pretty good; it looked like it had stopped bleeding, and the scar on my back was starting to patch itself over with some skin, though I knew that scar was deep enough to become permanent, but I didnt really care that much.

The scars on my arms, however, had bled a little more than the others so you could see some of the blood faintly through the bandages. I sighed and unwrapped myself and, after checking I wasn't still bleeding anywhere, jumped into the shower.

After my shower I reapplied my bandages around my arms and torso, making sure all the new cuts had been wrapped. I then got dressed in my usual school wear; jeans, tennis shoes, and plain long-sleeved shirts. Today I was wearing my dark, dark blue jeans, with a forest-color green long-sleeved sweater with a white spaghetti strap tank top underneath it, though it wasn't visible. I wore my white, dirty tennis shoes that had dark blue and black designs on the side of it, though it was dirty and faded. I grabbed my schoolbag and, after making sure I had everything I needed, made my way downstairs. Charlie still wasn't up yet; he was never up this early in the morning.

My dad, Charlie, was the chief of the small, rainy town of Forks, Washington. Ironic enough as it was, that he was the chief of police, out saving the town day after day, only to come home and beat me. Every person in the town of Forks and even some from the other, closer towns viewed Charlie as a hero, not to be seen as wrong. They thought of him as the bravest, kindest, most honest man in Forks.

Everybody loved and respected him; everybody except me. I hated him for his soul and wished he would just leave or go to jail or something. To let me free, make it so I never had to see him again. And even after all he's put me through, I didn't want him to die. I wasn't a monster, and I wasn't evil or jealous like others, I wasn't thirsty for revenge. I just wanted to never have to worry about him or see him again. To just be free of him and have both of us start over in a new life, one that was hopefully healthier for the both of us.

I sighed, knowing that would probably never happen, and that I would probably die from his abuse sooner than I had any hope of a new life. I grabbed an apple and sat down at the table, quickly eating it and drinking some water. After I was done I threw the apple remains in the trash, put the water bottle in my bag, and looked at the clock. I was leaving about four minutes early.

That was good, meant I didn't have to speed as much and guaranteed I wouldn't be late to class. I smiled a little and started to head out the door, locking it behind me. I went over to the side of the garage and grabbed my skateboard, the only way I had to get to school. When I told Charlie I needed to be able to get to school on time, he gave me ten bucks and told me to go buy a skateboard for myself. After that I didn't even consider bugging him; skateboarding was better than walking.

I grabbed my board and walked over to the sidewalk by the house and set down the skateboard. Out of every kid that went to my school, I lived the furthest from the school, and I was the only one without a car. I got on my board and began boarding my way towards school. As I boarded I did tricks, something that always brightened my day. I loved doing tricks on my skateboard; that was one of the many perks I got. I was a good skateboarder, and could top anybody in Forks at skateboarding tournaments, though I never went.

Everybody hated me, said I was a bitch and a slut. I didn't listen, and I didn't care. I had heard this many times by Charlie, and listening to them talk about me like that didn't bug me in the slightest. Besides, I didn't go to the skateboarding stuff because I didn't want to get in trouble from Charlie. If I suddenly had a friend or two, Charlie might increase my pain.

I stopped at one of the three stoplights in town and waited for my turn to cross over to the other side. After I was across, I began speed boarding, just because it was fun. I did tricks on random objects and always landed with perfection. In a matter of minutes school was in sight, and I slowed down, but only slightly.

I just needed to slow down enough to make the turn, and then speed up again. I turned at the corner and sped up, aiming for the ramp that a man who lived by the school owned. I used this ramp every morning to jump the school fence into the parking lot without having to worry about the students or cars. The ramp was something he put up just for me, being the sweet old man he is. He was currently sitting in a chair on his front porch, and he smiled and waved at me when I started zooming past him.

I quickly smiled and waved back, before jumping the ramp over into the school grounds, on the sidewalk there.

After I was on the sidewalk I slowed down and jumped off my board, stepping quickly onto the end of it so it flipped up into my left hand. I slid my hand to the middle of the board and carried it against my side as I made my way into the school building. Everyone was outside milling about and talking, and as I passed I heard the news of the "new kids". I didn't pay much attention, I didn't really care if there were new kids or not. A few days after they were here they'd join in with laughing at me and beating me up. It never bothered me.

The punches they swung were feather soft compared to Charlie's blows. I ran to my locker and threw in my skateboard, closing my locker and locking it. I made my way to first hour; I was the first one there. I sat in my seat in the back of the classroom, where I sat alone in every class I had. I loved it, no one to sit by me, and nothing to worry about. I had asked each teacher this at the beginning of the year, and they all agreed. But they only agreed because I was always friendly and kind to them and were a perfect straight A student, everything was easy for me. They had all asked if I wanted to move up a grade, and I had said no. If I took advanced classes, then so be it, but I wasn't going to switch grades.

I sighed in contentment as I opened up my notebook for English class and copied down this week's notes, which I had been given by my English teacher, Miss Greer. She always gave me the week's notes every Monday, and she gave me all the study guides, bookwork, homework, assignments, lectures; everything. She knew this always helped me; I never did do well at taking things in stride when it came to English, I had to know everything together. I copied down the weeks notes and worked on the sheet assignments and finished them in five minutes, when it would have taken the average student twenty minutes per page. I smiled to myself.

I was in advanced English for me and should probably be in double advanced English, but I decided not to. I didn't feel like taking college English until the first day of fall rolled around, then I was getting transferred to a college English teacher who agreed to come in and teach me college English every day once fall started. I was excited about this; learning college English with a college teacher and starting my college education, since I probably wouldn't get to go to college anyways.

This college teacher agreed to also teach me in math and science, since she was an expert on all three subjects. I was practically bouncing with joy when the principal told me this. I was so excited, the first time since I was five years old, the day of my birthday, the day before my mom left. The day before my world of hell started, and I didn't even know it.

When the bell rang and students began walking into class, I had finished the week's notes, worksheets, and had read all the book work and understood every bit of it. All I had left was to write the surprise essay Miss Greer had planned for the class, and I was already halfway through the rough draft. It was easy, no difficulties whatsoever. I sighed and put away my finished work and continued to work on my essay. When Miss Greer called the class to order I was proofreading my rough draft, finding no mistakes and putting it away to be typed this afternoon. Miss Greer began to teach the class and I paid attention, to make sure I didn't miss anything while going through the notes, readings, and lectures for the week. I never missed anything, but I knew it never hurt to check. I noticed a new girl sit beside me, but I didn't pay any attention to her.

When the bell rang signaling the end of class I could hear the whole class begin talking about the new kids as they walked out the door, about their coolness, friendliness, and hotness. All the girls were gushing and all the guys were comparing and betting. I shook my head at their childishness and made my way to my second class, math. I was at present taking Calculus, but would begin taking college math starting next Monday; only a week to go. I did a small jump and smiled. One more week and I'd have three classes of peace.

As I entered math class I walked over to Mister Dreemon and waited for him to hand me my stuff. After I was given the week's assignments, I went to my seat in the back of the room and began working. Mister Dreemon didn't believe I should be given everything for the week; he only believed I should be given the assignments and notes I needed, nothing more. That way I was guaranteed to pay attention to his class.

Or so he thought. I always paid attention to his class anyways, out of habit. But I never needed to, I already knew it all and just decided to sit there and make sure I missed nothing, while taking extra special notes and adding extra problems to my notebook, while also working on the work he had given me. As the bell rang, he announced the day's homework to the class before they left and everyone filed out for third period.

Third period for me was art class, my favorite class of the day. We never had any work in art class, all we had to do was use some form of art and decided what we wanted to do. Today I felt in the mood for sketching, something I was good at. I sat in my seat in the corner of the room and began sketching. I started to sketch my dream from last night, various scenes from it. Looking down at my shoes with the fog closing in. The look of the trees and the leaves on the forest floor. The sight of the base of the mountain range.

I was an amazing drawer, and I was a fast one too. So I had no problem drawing these simple drawings in about half an hour or so. After I finished with them I worked on the hardest one of the bunch; I drew me standing at the mountain base, halfway spun around, looking at Charlie stepping out from behind a tree smiling. It would look harmless to anyone else who saw it, but I would always know the real reason behind the drawing. I finished this drawing just as the bell rang signaling class was over.

Our art teacher, Miss Streek, checked what everyone had done in class before they left, so she knew we were at least doing something. That's all it took to keep an A in art class, just draw a picture and then do nothing. Easy enough that everyone took her class. I always left this class first, so I didn't have to worry about being late or anything. I walked up to her desk with my special art sketchbook and showed her the four sketches I had done. She smiled; she loved my drawings. She marked it down in her grade book and shooed me away so she could get to everybody else. I put my sketchbook in my bag and walked to fourth hour history.

History was an easy enough class. At the beginning of class Mister Johnson would give me the articles I had to read and the assignments I was to do and tell me to pay attention in class as always and take notes. I always agreed; I never had a problem with taking my own notes.

As I was working on the assignments I heard Mister Johnson call the class to order and say "Class, today we have a new student in here. Her name is Rosalie Hale. You are to treat her with respect and help her ease into the school year. " With that being said, he gave her a book and sent her to the only open seat in the class; the one next to me.

As she sat down I put away my early work and turned to look at her, but not to stare like everybody else. I just looked her over for a moment, just so I'd know who she was, and then left her alone. I could feel her gaze into my head and felt the slight prickle on the back of my neck. It didn't go away, she just kept staring. I glanced back up at her for a fraction of a second and then looked away. Rosalie Hale had gorgeous, flowing blonde hair that went down in the most graceful style to her mid-back. It looked soft and silky, and complimented her nicely.

She was somewhat tall, with a very nice frame and had every guy drooling over her. Her face was perfect with no freckles or acne or anything, and she wasn't wearing much makeup; she didn't need to. She was wearing semi-dark purple eye-shadow, mascara, eye liner, and some lip stick which was a nice red color. She didn't need any makeup for the rest of her face; it was flawless and needed nothing to touch it up.

Rosalie was wearing a red V-neck top that was slightly ruffled as it sat there. She had on a white shirt under it and was wearing a necklace with a dark purple heart on it. Her deep red shirt was short sleeved and fit her frame perfectly. She was wearing light blue skinny jeans that really hugged her frame and made her legs look nice and long. She was wearing red heels, almost stilettos, with two thick bands wrapping around her feet on it. She looked like she had just come out of a magazine. She looked like a model, but I didn't really care. She meant nothing to me; she would hate me like everyone else in only a few days. I didn't mind; this was the way my life had gone since I was five years old.

The whole class was watching Rosalie with either lust in their eyes or envy. Everyone except me; I was paying attention to Mister Johnson instead. When he dismissed the class five minutes early everyone was smiling and made their way into the halls to get ready for class and talk until fifth period started.

For me fifth period was advanced Swedish. In elementary I had accomplished and mastered Spanish, and was now one of the many languages I could speak with ease and understand with perfect clarity to this day. The same went with French, which I learned and mastered just like Spanish in Middle School. When I began high school it only took a year and a half of to learn and perfect German. I have been in Swedish class for about 3/4 of a year now, including the Summer-time, and I was already advanced.

I could easily speak my four languages and could almost speak Swedish with the same ease as Spanish, French, German, and English. Learning languages was very easy for me; I had no problems with it. I figured it would come in handy one day, if I needed it. Just like history and English class would too. I smiled slightly at my accomplishments and began to finish my Swedish learning class. By next week I will have perfected Swedish and will be starting my Dutch class. Sweetness I thought to myself. Much too soon for my liking the bell rang signaling lunch.