Hey everyone, I've tried writing stories several times, but none of them seem to keep going. So I've been working on this one a bit more. I hope you guys give it a chance. I'm open to criticism. And you guys can give me some ideas if you wish. Keep reading, and I'll try to update every weekend if I'm getting a good audience. Thanks!

Disclaimer:I do not own Twilight, or it's characters.

Also, this story is All-Human. It has mostly regular pairings. It might start off with some weird relationships, but by the end all relationships should be as they are in the series.

"Bella! Isabella! Are you here?" Dad yelled from the kitchen. He sounded in shock and in pain. I could hear him rush through our small house. I quickly sat up in my bed. I looked around my small room, first checking to see if there was any smoke from either the door or the window. It all looked and smelled safe. So what could have Dad in such a scurry?

"Dad?" I yelled weakly from my twin-sized bed. I buried my face in my blankets as I heard him rush down the hallway. I couldn't let him see that I was close to tears. The Swan's were never in fear, especially with Dad being a police officer in the Phoenix Police Department.

So I quickly reconstructed myself and waited for my father to reach the end of the hall. I heard his muffled strides to get to my room, and then the door brutally opened to show my dad's eyes, full of fear, full of despair. Something I never thought I would see in my father's eyes.

He quickly hustled to my bed-side and planted himself next to my bed. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into a heartfelt hug. Not the usual stiff 'good morning hug'. Even though my heart yearned for this kind of attention daily, this was not the way I wished to receive it. Not with the pain, and the mourning that had settled in my father's face. I couldn't take his silent misery much longer.

"Dad, are you okay?" I muttered. What happened after his simple question, this minimal inquiry, truly tipped my world upside down. A sob escaped my father's lips, and I knew this wasn't a small trouble. I knew he didn't "wake up on the wrong side of bed" as he used to explain my mother's bitter attitude in the mornings to me. This wasn't a Monday morning dilemma, like Mom forgot to buy milk for my cereal. My father was disheartened, and all I could do was watch.

"Dad, what's wrong?" I finally said. My voice came out abruptly, and this clearly surprised my father. He quickly tired to compose himself. He didn't' want to scare his baby girl.

He took a deep breath and tried to speak with a poised attitude, "Bella… I—", his statement was once again obstructed by a heart-wrenching sob.I could not believe my father was crying in front of me. I couldn't believe he was crying at all. He took one final deep breath.

"Bella, start packing… you're mother will be here soon, okay? I—I'll be in my room." He let out a breath as if to get all the sadness out. But what did my father mean? Where was I going?

"Dad, what—why do I need to pack?" I said. A tear slid from my cheek onto my hand that was set lightly on my father's arm. I wanted to comfort. Prove to him that I was here, and he didn't need to be scared or worried.

"Bella, I don't want to talk about it," he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, and handed me a light blue envelope folded in half. "Your mother left you this letter."

He then stood up bent down and gave me a kiss on my forehead and hurried out of my room and lightly closed the door. I stared at my door for a couple of minutes, waiting for him to come back. But my door remained closed. I finally let myself cry. I let all the tears escape my irritated eyes. What was happening? Where was my mother?

I finally calmed down enough to look ate the envelope in my hand. I wiped the crusty tears off my cheeks and unfolded the envelope. My name was written on it with my mother's elegant cursive. I took a deep breath and ripped the light blue envelope open. I took out the papers contained within. I unfolded them and began to read.

Isabella,

I understand this might be confusing, but you mustn't think. Just do as this letter says. I will explain to you what is going on when I come to pick you up. Isabella, your father is leaving us for awhile. He is going to be going to Washington, while you and I stay here in Phoenix. I want you to understand that this is your father's choice. I know this will be hard for you, but it will get easier. Please pack up your room, only your clothes and stuff important to you. Be ready by noon. I will come and pick you up at 12:30. Say goodbye to your father. You won't be seeing him for long, Isabella. I love you, honey.

Love, Mommy

I reread the letter several times. I tried to grasp the concept. I might have been a smart, mature eleven year-old who skipped 6th grade, but at the moment my intelligence was worthless. What was happening to my family was far beyond intelligence.

This was what I would call a grown-up problem, but I had heard the stories from many different people. From the older kids, the thirteen and fourteen year olds in 8th grade, I had heard the stories of grown-ups falling out of love, living separate lives, getting re-married, having kids, starting a whole new life, and forgetting of the old. And after reading this letter, I knew that my parents were done. Our happy family was done, concluded, terminated, and finished.

And according to my mother's letter, my father was to blame. How could he leave me? He was the only who understood me. My mother knew I was special. She embraced my intelligence, and used it to the max, but my father, even though he knew I had a higher intelligence than the rest of the kids my age, he treated me like an eleven-year-old.

He had been the one to take me to the park, teach me how to ride a bike, and teach me how to swim. He was the fun parent. My mother was the boss. She told me what to do, she told me how to do it, and she told me when to do it. And I knew that this is exactly what the letter was. These were the instructions for me to follow. These were the instructions for me to leave my old life behind, and forget about my father. For eleven years I had followed her commands, and it was way too early for me to stop.

I spent the next three hours or so packing my belongings. I was angry at my father. How dare he tear into my room, tears in his eyes, and face me knowing he wanted to leave me behind the whole time. I was livid; I could not describe how angry and how disappointed I was in my father.

He had been my only friend through my childhood. When the other kids ignored me, he was there for me, but now he was abandoning me like a lost puppy. He knew I didn't get along with my mother, but here he was discarding me like trash, but I would not let him stab my heart. I was going to be strong and I was going to be clear to both of my parents that I would not be treated as trash.

After collecting all my clothes and fitting it into 5 bags I had found throughout my closet, it was already 12:15. I had fifteen more minutes to say goodbye to my old life. I had to do the hardest thing I would ever have to go through as a preteen. I grabbed two bags and slid on over each shoulder. I then grabbed the two smaller bags in one hand and the last one in the other. I made my way through our one story home to the front door. I dropped it all on the floor, and took a deep breath.

"Dad?" I squeaked. I heard shuffling from the kitchen, and I walked slowly through my house until I saw him sitting at our breakfast table, head in his hands, with an envelope identical to mine except in a forest green. I walked up slowly to him. The envelope had already been open, so he had already read it. I felt the sudden urge to see what my mother had said to him. I hoped she used a million different curse words to show him how hurt and how angry we were.

"Goodbye, Bella" he whispered. I felt a twinge of pain hit my body. My father was the only one who called me Bella, to the rest of the world I was Isabella.I suddenly realized this was the end of a stage in my life. This was the end of Bella Swan, and the only way I could let go of that was my breaking the heart of the person who broke mine.

"Goodbye… Charlie" I said. I saw the hurt in his face, turned around and tore through the house, until I got to the front door. I grabbed my bags, and ran to the curb. That was were I spent my last fifteen minutes as Bella Swan, crying my heart out.

So that's how it starts. Please review, tell me what you think. Stay tuned to see how Bella... or Isabella... will deal living with her mom, who has some secrets up her sleeve.