Whee! CHapter two is up! It would have been sooner but the lack of reviewing made me sad T^T but I figured teh best remedy was to add another chapter for more publicity! And thus, a doubly long chapter was born! Now enojy it .

"You are now landing in Port Angeles, thank you for flying with us we hope you pick us again for any of your travel needs," a sickly sweet voice rang through the flight cabin as I stirred from the recesses of my mind. Not only was I a light sleeper, but I hardly ever really "slept." It was more of a hanging balance between being awake and going to sleep. All black, muffled sounds, no sight. Most importantly, the reason for this half sleep- no dreams.

Lord knows what might have happened then. With all my screaming and thrashing about they would have thought me insane; not such a good way to start the first impressions. Still, I wished I could have slept even a little, I was still so tired. Half sleeping requires a lot more energy than you would think because most of your body is trying to shut to rest and regroup, while your brain just goes off and does its own paranoid spiel that prevents you from really relaxing at all. If anything I was even more tired now as I yawned loud enough to pop my jaw. I also stretched up in my seat, pushing my arms as high as they could go, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck; trying my best to loosen my muscles.

At least I had gotten some work done before doing whatever it was that qualified as my own sleep. I finished a few chapters of my book before I felt the incessant need to write again, filling page after page of paper with scribbled words. I moved front and back without skipping lines, instead breaking them by small dashes. I'd found that if I just moved a line for each break I went through paper to fast. Not the notebook was satisifyingly filled with any dark drabble in my mind, expressing myself in the most basic way I knew; with words. Rather than going to the group therapy meetings, I chose to write down how it all felt. Some wre journal entries, others poems. Some of them evolved into what I wasn't even sure. A narrative prose I suppose you could call it. What started as a poem went on for several pages and became soemthing new entirely. Still, I kept those safely tucked away- it wouldn't do to let anyone read those. Not at all.

Eventually, I felt the several bumps below that signified a landing and hastily undid by seatbelt, lifting my bag onto my lap and holding it close; cradling almost as if it were a child. As a different stwardess walked by this time I gratefully took an ice cold can of sprite, using it to soothe by dry throat as well as stomach. I was starving- not sleeping did that to you. Hmm, maybe I could get some food in the airport, or on the way ot the house if he'll let me. I hoped he at least had food in the fridge.

Standing up with the rest of the people, I felt my fears return as I was jostled out the door with everyone. I didn't like so many packed bodies all around me, bumping from every side, yelling and calling for eachother so as not to get lost. My palms started to get clammy as I broke out into a cold sweat. A famliliar sense of nausea began to sweep over me as I finished the last of my soda, crumpling it in my hand. Oh god. I was going to have an attac right here I told myself helplessly. Being claustrophobic and extremely paranoid, whenever things like this happened I started to have panic attacks or aniety attacks. I tried to breathe as best as I could before I started to hyperventilate, my vision going in and out as I just followed voices, flinching for every hand that came in contact with me.

Was this how it would always be I wondered? So afraid to be in a crowd, the be amongst other people. Unable to be touched without flinching, not being able to sleep without nightmares. This is what had become of my life now I realized numbly as I gripped the cool steel of a guidance bar, licking my lips and swallowing as my throat had run dry once more. Suddenly, just before it really hit me, we were released into a cool room, numbers fanning everywhere; funneling around me and giving me space to breathe again as they milled. I closed my eyes tightly, squeezing them shut while I breathed in, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. I repeated this process a few times before I felt well enough to move and took a tentative step forward.

Looking around carefully, I spotted my new name written in bold across a large piece of cardboard and a warm looking figure holding it up. Of course, warm looking people nothing if they were bastards deep down. I was immune to charm now but I approached him anyways, having already seen the file and memorizing his picture. As I came closer, my hand tightened on the strap of my small carry on bag, trambling slightly as I watched him look up at me.

"Bella?" he asked me, careful to keep his voice calm as he looked at me, as if doing his own assesment of me as I returned the once over.

"That's what they call me," I answered, giving a small smile as I reverted back to my old mask that let people think nothing was wrong with my life. It always worked so well, I haven't cried since I was six and all this started.

It's been ten years.

Maybe when this was all over I could be an actress. "I'm Charlie Swan," he said, introducing himself formerly and offering a chapped hand. "I guess I'm your father for now," he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. For some reason, though I'd just met him it seemed like he must have done that a lot today with his dishelved looking appearence. He seemed like a firm man who would stand by his decisions, a little closed with his emotions. Not like I was, but just...he didn't know how to communicate them properly. All in all I didn't pick up any immediate threats.

Which instead, set me on high alert.

I could no longer claim that I was good at reading people after what I brought into our lives. He had been just as nice and reassuring as this man now and I could not afford to get comfortable. Still I kept up my charade. "It's nice to meet you dad," I smiled, putting an emphasis on the last word. "You can just call me Bella by the way," I told him. I was more likely to respond to that than I would be to Isabella since it was closer to Becca. He nodded, standing there awakwardly for a moment as if unsure how to continue so I nudged him along. "So where do we live?" I asked.

"Oh, um yeah, follow me," he said nervously, running his hand through the back of his hair again as he turned towards the exit. I had to give him extra points for not trying to touch me as we wound our way around people to get to the outside. Finally, we made it outside to the police cruiser he'd apparently taken here. It was a small town and he was the police chief, the best protection they could get me. Seeing it though...brought back fresh memories of the last time I'd ridden away in one of these.

He had just beaten my mother again particularly badly and she had to go the hospital to be treated. They were keeping her for a few days of observation but I wasn't allowed to stay with her. I wasn't stupid enough by then to miss the meaning. I would be stuck at home for several days, without my mother to at least put a break in things even though it's horrible for me to want her to be hurt as a distraction from me. As the cruiser pulled up to our sweet unassuming home I stiffened while the door was opened by the police officer.

I remember, I'd been so close to freedom that day. He'd offered me a hand out and I'd licked my lips, swallowing to wet my throat. 'I don't want to get out. He'll rape me again without my mom here to beat on.' That's all I had to say and they would whisk me off to child services where I could be safe again and he would be taken to jail. Instead, over his shoulder I saw the house door open and he stood in the frame, watching me with a wolf's smile, daring me to say a word. No one would believe me his expression seemed to tell me. He was the kind, caring boyfriend of a single mother raising a kid with a wild imagination. Of course no one would believe me. Instead I swallowed my words and pasted a quick smile on my face. What I should have said and what I did were two very different things. Instead what came out my mouth when he asked if I had something to say was: "I- I just wanted to thank you for saving my mother and driving me home, I appreciate it."

He just grinned and patted my head before sending me off towards HIM in the doorway where he grinned and waved the man all the way to the stop sign before ushering me in. I felt his hand slide on my waist. "So how's your mother doing?" he asked softly, his breath brushing against my ear as I cringed away. His arm, however, kept me trapped in the iron grip I'd come to assimilate him a long time ago. My skin burned where he touched me, even through the clothes I felt as if I was burning alive. It was like Hell. Actually, for me, it was.

"Fine," I answered him quickly, but needing to lash out despite how stupid I knew that was. "You broke her wrist, forearm, and clavicle all along the left side. She has two bruised ribs and a healing compound fracture that they've stitched up. Said it was amazing that was all she suffered after her accident," I said acidicly, emphasizing accident so it was clear I was being sarcastic.

"Now now," he purred, his hand tightening on my hip painfully. "I didn't break anything," he said, "you did." And this, hurt much more than any blow he could ever deliver. Becasue really, it was all my fault. Everything from the moment I'd let him into our lives. He'd seemed so sturdy and stable, perfect for my hairbrained mother. He was also kind and I'd been lost. Again, my fault. I'd let him take me home and stay for dinner. After that, he would come visit with little trinkets for my mother and I. He'd fit so easily in our lives, buying me things I'd always wanted, taking care of my mom and soothing her where she was nearly normal. I took their dating in stride and no one even blinked when marriage rolled around only a year later. I was the regular cupid to them.

That was things started going bad though. But only at night. He wasn't material but it wasn't something any of us had seen coming. It wasn't as if he'd suddenly beocme a drunken slob and people pitied us. No, quite the contrary, he remained the perfect upstanding husband and father in public, my mother never went out with visible bruises. Thing was, and its what everyone always tells you despite the way I've taken it out of context, it was what was on the inside that counted.

Her back and chest were mottled purple, ribs broken or bruised. I just kept smiling, pretending nothing was wrong. I always handled our burden's this was just another secret to keep, another thing to protect. I kept my mother safe in exchange for my soul.

My body.

My sanity.

Small prices to pay in exchange for my mother. It barely atoned for the ultimate sin of bringing him here in the first place. It was the least I could do really. My mother though, she didn't want to see her baby hurt and threw herself over me hundreds of times to protect me, to stave of the nightmare for another night. Only problem was, he was strong, incredibly strong. So then we'd both be hurt. It was all well and good she wanted to keep me safe but rape was a lesser evil to me than her brutal beatings. I was so afraid he would break a rib and she'd puncture her lung, or her heart would give out- maybe he'd lose control and just beat her to a pulp. One of those night's I was sure she'd stop crying forever and I'd be all alone. I was waiting for her to die.

Maybe that was why it wasn't such a shock when I found her dead that day. It was almost a numb experience, coming home from school and locking the door behind me, heading to the kitchen for a snack. That was where I found her too, just lying there; a bloodied mangled corpse. She'd been ripped to shreds. This was inhuman and yet now I just KNEW it was him. I stood and stared for the longest time, just looking at her. The whole kitchen was covered in her blood. She should clean she realized.

Scrubbing, her knuckles were raw and bleeding as she poured bleach over everything, attacking the hideous marks of blood with a cold fervor of someone who wanted to forget everything. I couldn't bring myself to move my mother, couldn't touch her. Instead I threw a thick cotton sheet over her corpse. I threw the rags in the wash and took a boiling hot shower to clean myself, using up almost all of the soap. When I got out, I put on my mother's nightgown and went back downstairs. My life was almost normal looking until I approached the kitchen again.

This time, I lifted the phone off the hook and dialed 911 as I had so often, pressing send for once.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"I don't think it's an emergency anymore."

"What? Excuse me ma'am, this is an importannt hotline. You can't just place crank calls-"

"No, I mean, she's already dead. Not much you can do for a dead for a person can you."

"Oh my! Okay, stay calm and tell me exactly where you're at. I'll send a abulance and cop car over right now."

"I'm perfectly calm, 1716 Ochre Lane Phoenix,"

"Well, we'll be sending over someone right now, please stay on the line with me and explain what happened."

"I came home from school and I went into the kitchen for a snack when I found my mom murdered on the tile."

The next line was cut off as I hung up and went into the living room, ignoring the phone ringing until the front door burst open and the EMT's raced in, calling out random acronyms and color codes and all sorts of medical lingo that I didn't udnerstand. It took them a few minutes to find me sitting there on the couch then there were hands all over me, checking my pupils, temperature, asking questions. I didn't react until one of them tried to pull down my shirt for some other sort of examination. That's when I started thrashing, screaming, and fighting. That's when the crying started in great huge sobs that left me pressed for air. Finally, the quiet stupor I'd been in had evaporated and the full force of the shock slammed into me of what had happened.

"Bella, Bella, BELLA!" Charlie shouted, shaking me awake as I caught the remnants of my screaming from my dreams before waking up. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, nearly hysterical. I noticed we were pulled over now and wondered how long I'd been screaming. He moved his hands away the second I woke up though and I saw his flushed cheeks. He must have been restraining me while I kicked I told myself.

"Sorry, bad dream," I apologized.

"I bet," I heard him mutter under his breath, "no wonder they asked me to fix the room."

Hmm, what did he mean by that? Instead I asked. "So are we almost there?"

"Wha-? Oh yeah right," he said, putting the car in gear again and pulling back onto the road again, throwing me a few worried sideways glances.

I'd worried him I noticed, somewhat deflated at this new development. He seemed genuinely concerned for my welfare.

About twenty minutes later we pulled up into his- our new house and I smiled. I already loved it. It was small but quaint. Very cute. I could definitely see myself living here. It just seemed so safe. Like nothing bad ever happened inside. Then again, our hosue had been like that too. Still, with Charlie, I found myself slowly easing my guard to just the minimum anxiety. Opening my car door I slung my bag over my shoulder and followed him inside as he gave me the grand tour of the place. He stopped at my room.

"There's only the one bathroom in the hall but other than that, you've got a fully functioning closet with all your clothes already inside, your shoes are underneath them. I picked up a twin mattress at the store too so I hope that's okay," he said nervosly as I looked around. "I als got you your own computer; it's a little old but it works pretty good so you shouldn't have any problems and-"

"I love it!" I grinned, spinning around the center and cutting him off. Really, the small space was just what I needed to myself. I found myself looking in the closet though where a slightly dusty looking treadmill sat. Sliding the door open further I dragged it out in the open.

"Oh yeah about that, I used ot store some stuff in here and there was no where else it could fit so I hope you don't mind it being in here though I could always find another-" he began but I cut him off again, ecstatic about this god given gift.

"No way," I argued, "I would have moved it right back up here anyways, I love running," I said. At least with him I could be honest.

He helped me set it up and I cleaned it off with some generic dusting spray and turned it on to make sure it worked, grinning as I listened to the hum. "Thank you so much Cha- Dad," I corrected myself. His face flushed in embarassment an he shrugged it off before looking out the window at the sound of a honk.

"Oh," he said, "Yeah, come outside for a moment. Now this is a gift from father to daughter," he smiled. "I wanted to make sure everything was covered," he said as I skipped down the steps with him, taking them two at time. What no one tells you is it's a lot easier going up two or three at a time than down but I'd eventually mastered it. He led me outside and sitting there was a monsterous red Chevy, roaring loudly. There was an old man sitting in a wheel chair with a wide smile on his face as he and my new father exchanged hello's. A boy about my age stood just behind him with an equally wide smile but for me instead.

I found myself smiling back just the smallest bit- his grin was that disarming. Though he topped me by a good few inches something about him was so childlike you couldn't help but indulge him. "Hi," I smiled, "I'm Bec-Bella," I corrected almost immediately and he didn't seem to notice my slip as his huge hand swallowed mine whole.

"Jake," he said with a nod, still staring at me until I began to blush and I had to look away.

"So what do you think?" Charlie asked, beaming.

"About what?" I aksed, confused.

He patted the rumbling truck affectionately. "Your homecoming present," he said.

"What?" I said, srprised, "No way! You got this for me! Oh my god I don't, I can't..."I struggled for words. "This is unbelievable, it'sincredible. Of course I love it," I smiled. And I really did. The truck looked like it could take on a tank without much more than needing a new paint job. Sturdy and strong. Just what I needed. Immediately I jumped into the cab, getting a feel for it as I allowed myself to sink into the soft, worn leather. Oh god, this was perfect.

I turned to watch as Jake climbed into the passenger and listened as he showed me how to work it. Once we were both sure I could drive this without any problems we headed inside for pizza that had come not too long ago- it being a small town and all.

There was some fun banter between everyone as Jake and I got to know eachother a little better. He was easy to be around, it came so naturally that I didn't even have to pretend after a while. Eventually though, they had to leave and I waved them both off, still smiling with the after effects of their visit. It was too bad we didn't go to the same school. As I turned around I saw Charlie locking up his gun in the hallway table and shivered jut slightly before shaking it off. No, I told myself- no genuinely sure of this- I was safe here.

"So umm, I gess I'll take a shower and jsut turn in then," I said and he looked up, surprised.

"Oh yeah, go ahead," he nodded. "There's just one thing," he said, his face serious. "I want you to know. Even though we're not really related or anything, I already love you like my own daughter and I won't ever let anything hurt you," he confessed. I knew by his shy nature how big of a step this was for him and I almost felt like crying right then and there but I stayed strong.

"Thank you so much Charlie," I smiled, "that really means a lot to me."

"Just," he started, "just don't try so hard you know. It's okay to cry every now and then. I can't say I know what you're going through because I don't but I don't want you to think you have to pretend just for me all the time. And-" he headged, "the office warned me before they sent you but...your room is soundproofed."

I wrestled with myself for a bit before allowing myself to step closer and give him a small hug before springing back almost instantly thanks to my aversion to human contact now. "Thank you...for everything," I said.

After my shower I dressed in sweats and a tank and started up the treadmill. There was no room for gymnastics in here but I could run. As my feet slapped the whirring track I'd set on high I let thought leave me as the world melted away I would keep running while my body burned through my clothes and the air turned into nails and my feet turned into lead and my lungs shriveled into nothingness and sight turned into sound and sounds turned into silence and I disappeared alltogether.

I would run until there was nothing left of me.

Soooo what did you think? On a scale of one to ten? 12? . lol jk but seriously, please do review it and I will update even quicker for you! Not to mention the Cullen's make their appearence in the next chapter. What sort of problems will arise when Edward's hatred for Bella is actually returned! Duhn-duhn-DUUUHN!! XD

-Panda