CHAPTER TWO:

The rest of my classes passed in a blur, and before long, I heard the final bell ring. I ran out to my Toyota Camry, clicking on my iPod to listen to "Today Was A Fairytale," by Taylor Swift. I thought about what was happening at home, how I'd be for school tomorrow. I saw Edward at the corner of the cafeteria, and he seemed tense, like he knew what I was thinking.

"Weird," I muttered, getting in and putting the keys in the ignition. I turned the key, but my car didn't start. "Damn it, start." I tried three more times, but I still had no luck. Jeez, why was it so hard for a damn car to start? "Come on, I don't want to die tonight."

I turned my head and saw Edward right by my window. I jumped. Jeez, was he trying to kill me, too? Maybe. Who knows? I mean, not everyone is psychic.

"Kitty, are you having a bit of car trouble?" Edward laughed, and I glared at him. "I'm guessing you are."

"Just a bit," I said. "Can I have a ride, please?"

"Alright, come on. You can come to our house, if you'd like, of course."

"Um, yes, please. I'd like to meet your parents, if that's all right?" My voice going higher made the statement sound like a question.

He opened my door and grabbed my hand. It seemed like I was going to the Cullen home. I walked with Edward, noticing how cold his hand was. It felt funny in my warm one. Then we walked over to his Volvo. It only had five seats- not enough room for me.

"Edward, there are only five seats- only enough for you and your family," I pointed out.

"No," he argued. "Emmett has his Jeep."

Oh, I thought. I guess it seemed I did have to go home with them. I got in the backseat after Edward had opened the door, sitting right next to Jasper, who was right next to Alice.

"Hi," Alice chirped.

I nodded in acknowledgment. I shouldn't be going to their house. I should go home and make dinner. I should hurry so that I don't get hurt as much as I might if I didn't make dinner. "Mom" and "Dad" might get even more mad. No, they would. They would get mad. I would get hurt. Maybe something would get broken. Maybe I wouldn't be able to go to school for a while. No school would be good. Wait, no. That would not be good. I sighed, realizing we'd made it to the Cullen house.

The house was beautiful, the entire bottom floor glass. It was beautiful. I loved their home, wishing my house was this pretty. I saw a figure in my peripheral vision, pale white with black hair. It looked like a person, but it was moving too fast to be a person. It literally blurred in its motion. It seemed as if the… thing was going to run into the Cullen house.

"Kitty!" Emmett boomed. "Come on, girl."

"Okay. I just thought I saw something." I looked back over to where I saw the figure; it was gone. My brow furrowed in confusion. I know I saw something over there. I wasn't crazy, and I wasn't having hallucinations. It was just too fast to be a human, though.

"What'd you see, little girl?" Emmett smiled and came over to ruffle my hair.

"No!" I hollered. "Do not touch the hair. It takes too long to fix it to have you mess it up. Back away, Emmett." I glared at him. He laughed at my attempt at a glare.

"Whatever."

I walked quickly to the front door, knocking slightly. The door opened, and a woman with caramel colored hair and pale, pale skin opened it. She had golden eyes just like the other Cullens.

"Oh, hello, dear, I'm Esme," she greeted.

"Hi. Um, I'm Kitty. How are you, ma'am?" I questioned.

"I'm fine. Come in, Kitty, come in. Carter?" Esme called and a black haired boy around my age walked in. "Would you show Kitty around the house?"

"Sure," Carter answered.

I nodded at him, thinking, Could he be what I saw out there? Is the Cullen family not normal? I was guessing that could be right, but what did I know? Obviously not much. Just then I decided to glance at my watch. It was four o'clock. My face drained of color. Uh-oh. Mom would be home soon and not long after her, Dad. I had to get home very fast.

"Um, Carter?" I patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I have to get home. Could you drive me? I have to make dinner," I explained. He nodded.

While going down the staircase, I heard Edward's voice roaring, "Esme, we can't let her go back there! They've been abusing her for years! She knew coming here was a bad idea, but she didn't care! We can't let her get hurt!"

Wait. How did he know about Mom and Dad hitting me? I hadn't told anyone. I ran down the stairs, right as Alice was about to say something.

"How did you know?" I screamed. "I never told any of you! Never! How did you find out?" I was panting for breath after my mini rant. "Besides, nothing's going on. I'm clumsy. I have to go home. Now. Carter?" He nodded. "Good bye."

I huffed and walked out to the Volvo. I was beyond livid. I was completely consumed by my anger. I wanted to break something. I wanted to hit someone. I just settle for hitting my knuckle repeatedly on the door until it was bruised, red, and throbbing. I eyed it nervously. What if it was broken? Ugh, it looked broken. I didn't think I'd been hitting it on the door that hard. I guess I did, though.

"Carter, is your dad a doctor?" He nodded. Not much for chatter. "Um… can you take me to see him? I think I may have… um… kind of broken my hand."

He eyed my hand, just like I had. "Jesus, what the hell did you do? Tackle a football player?" he asked.

I blushed. "No, I banged it on the… on Edward's Volvo's door?" I squeaked.

"I'll take you back to the house. Better just tell them you tripped. All of them would flip if they found out you broke your hand on your own." He chuckled softly, turning around.

"That is not funny," I chastised as we made our way back to his house. Hmm, two rides to one house. That's some kind of record. I mean, being little, Mom and Dad didn't let me invite people over or go to their houses. I didn't get out much. When I got to about ten, I realized I wasn't going to be able to ever have friends at home, if I even wanted to call it that. I knew that something was different from my family than others. Most ten year old girls were able to have friends over. I wasn't. I didn't find that fair and whined to my parents about it. I stared out the car window, getting lost in the memory.

Mommy said I couldn't have Sara come over. I complained that that wasn't fair.

"Mommy, why can't she? She's my best friend," I'd whined.

"No, Kitty," Mom'd hissed, grabbing my upper arm in her iron grasp. "And you will listen to your mother."

"Kitty." Carter shook my arm, right where Mom's hand had been. I winced slightly. "Oh, sorry. But, anyway, we're here again," he pointed out. I nodded, getting out, careful not to jostle my knuckle.

He opened the door like a perfect gentleman, and Emmett was there smirking. "Jesus, what the hell did you do? Wrestle a bear?"

I glared. "Cute. Carter almost said the exact same thing. He asked if I tackled a football player." I grinned. "Now, where is Carlisle? I have to get home really quickly."

Emmett pointed to the study. I nodded again, and I knocked on the door gently, with my uninjured hand. A blonde man, not older than twenty-five, opened the door. He must be Carlisle.

"Who is this?" Carlisle asked Carter.

"Alice's friend," he answered.

"Ahh. And what, may I ask, did you do to your hand, miss?"

I flushed again. "I… I… um… tripped and hit it on Edward's Volvo's door," I lied.

"Well, why don't I take a look at it. Your hand looks broken, though," he said absently.

I nodded, walking into Carlisle's study. It had white walls and a black leather desk, with a mahogany desk in the center by a humungous bookshelf. He sat at his desk, motioning me over. It seemed as if he should be a college dean sitting in the desk. He reached over and grabbed my hand, examining it closely.

"Yes, your hand is broken, Kitty. You must be quite clumsy."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed. He then went over to his desk drawer, coming out with an Ace bandage.

"I'm sorry, but this is all I can do for your hand. Don't take it off except to shower. I mean it."

"Yes, sir." I saluted by using my good hand. He and Carter chuckled.

Carlisle wrapped my hand, and I winced, thinking, Does anything good ever happen to me? When will it? I deserve something good, don't I? I sighed. I guess not. Nothing good will happen. Same old days, same old abuse, same old chores, same old me. I wanted to be different. I didn't want to have my dad's emerald green eyes. I didn't want to have my mom's crow black hair. I wanted to just be able to be me. The person who doesn't have to hide. The person who loves the piano and guitar and singing. I wanted to be the person who could have friends and laugh and have fun, but I wasn't. I couldn't be. My parents made sure of that.