BPOV

No 'Hey, Bella'.

No 'Hey, Em'.

It's one of those days. One where I didn't have to go to work or have class, which left me to my own devices. This usually meant laying in bed all day and letting the pain of my past take over while no one is around to experience it.

It's one of those day where I miss my parents more than words could ever express. I thought about them everyday, but when I didn't have other things to do, an overwhelming feeling sadness and longing for their presence enveloped me.

When I was little, my parents were happily married. According to the rest of the town, we were the perfect suburban family. My dad was the police chief and my mother stayed at home, but was avidly involved in community projects and had gatherings with the women all over town. I was forced to go to those gatherings when I wasn't in school, which I pretended to hate, but secretly loved the time I got to spend with my mother. She was my role model.

The downside was that I was under so much pressure to be the perfect daughter. As I got older, I began to rebel. I went to parties and drank and smoked pot with a bunch of the town delinquents. My perfect grades started to fall and my parents started to notice. I got grounded almost every weekend, though I didn't obey them at all.

One night, when I was on the verge of passing out, my cell phone rang. I ignored it, of course, thinking it was my parents waiting to yell at me for being out when I wasn't supposed to. When it began to constantly ring without stopping, I picked it up with a nasty, sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue.

"Bella Swan?" a voice asked. I checked the caller ID and noticed it was a number I didn't recognize.

"Yeah, who is this?" I plugged my ears and traveled to an exit to get away from the blaring music.

"This is Deputy Marshall, I work with your father."

"Why are you calling me?"

"It's your parents. There's been an accident."

With that sentence, all of the alcohol that I had consumed seemed to evaporate. I was stone cold sober. As he explained that my parents were on their way home from a benefit dinner when a drunk driver ran a red light and collided with them, I sobbed. I found a quiet spot that was surrounded by drunken idiots and cried. Guilt weighed on me like a thousand pound boulder. I could hardly breathe. The way I had treated them before, now I would never get to say I'm sorry.

"They were killed on impact," Deputy Marshall said. "I'm going to have to ask you to come down to the station and identify the bodies."

How I looked at my parents and examined their distorted facial features without collapsing, I'll never know. The funeral went by with warm condolences and piles of food that I gave to homeless people I saw on the street.

Since I was eighteen, I wasn't forced to go live with a family member who lived a long ways away. I had applied to colleges before I started going downhill and I was accepted at USC, full paid scholarship. This was a positive thing in all the despair.

My parents weren't rich people. They worked hard for what they earned and all of their money went toward fundraisers and me. What money was left after everything was paid for following their death and selling the house went to me, but it was nowhere near enough for me to go to college on. The full paid scholarship would allow me to use the money for food until I could find a job.

For the duration of high school, I quit partying and hanging out with anyone. I focused on preparing for college and the move to California. I pulled my grades back up before I lost my scholarship. When I finally moved, I was excited to get a fresh start, but heartbroken that my parents didn't get to experience this with me.

Come fall, I was knee deep in classwork. I was so focused on my studies, I didn't give Jacob Black the time of day when he asked me out. Eventually, his advances could no longer be ignored and my grades were excellent, so I allowed him to take me out. We got close. He was the perfect, attentive boyfriend. Until he wasn't.

Before winter finals, I was buried in my studies. I didn't take a break for anything. If I got anything lower than an A I felt that my scholarship would be in jeopardy and I could risk it. I stopped returning Jacob's calls and when I actually answered when he called, I denied his offers to take me out. One night he showed up as I was nursing my fourth cup of coffee that night.

I opened the door, not knowing who it could be. My roommate was rarely there, always staying at her boyfriend's apartment, so I knew it wouldn't be her or any of her visitors. When I saw that it was Jacob, I was confused. We didn't set up a date and he didn't usually just drop in unannounced.

He shoved through the door and looked around. He found no one of course, then shoved me against the wall.

"Why haven't you been answering my phone calls?" He slammed me against the wall again. "Answer me!"

"Jacob, stop! You're scaring me." I struggled against his hold.

"I thought you were sleeping around on me," he gripped my upper arms and threw me down on the bed. I scooted back against the headboard and hugged my knees against my chest to protect myself.

That didn't seem to keep Jacob from grabbing my leg to pull me down and climbing on top of me. "You will answer me when I call you, Bella. I am not one to be ignored." He growled.

"Get off of me!" I yelled and kicked anywhere my legs could reach. I must have gotten him because he groaned. I didn't even expect the back of his hand to connect with the side of my head. It left me dizzy. I could barely keep my eyes open. Still, I fought against him.

"Stop fighting me!" He yelled.

When my punches and kicks began to connect with his skin. He started hitting back. My arms and stomach and face. I couldn't fight back anymore. My body ached and I was out of breath from my endless sobs. One last blow to my head and blackness took over my vision.

The next day, I woke up to an empty dorm. Everything was as I had left it except for the sheets I was laying on and the bedside table. It was all askew and scattered everywhere. I couldn't fight my instincts to go to the police while the bruises and cuts were still fresh. I thought of my mom and dad and how if they were here, that's what they would want me to do.

Jacob was arrested the day before finals. Word had gotten around about Jacob by his friends and girls from my dorm. Teachers made sure I knew that I could wait until the beginning of next semester to take finals, but I wouldn't let this stop me. I took the finals and aced all of them.

Now, laying in my bed, I cried at the memories. Jacob was out of jail and back in my life. Judging by the phone call I received the other day when I was with Emmett, I would see Jacob again, it was only a matter of time. I only hoped Emmett could protect me when that time came.

If my parents were here, they would make sure I was safe, no matter what. Whether they were hundreds of miles away or not. They were my protectors. I still felt guilt from the way I had treated them before they died. I don't believe that the guilt will ever go away, but I know that they still loved me no matter what.

And that was all that mattered.

Yeah, so a serious chapter for you. Not much Emmett and Bella, which I hate to not give you, but the next chapter will be so filled with them, you'll get sick. I think a Bella's background was kind of necessary for you guys to know because of Jacob and all. Surely she'll tell Emmett eventually, right?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! As I write this, my internet is down, so who knows when this chapter will get up. I love all of you guys who read this story and review. I don't even care that you review, I see your favorites and alerts and I know people are reading this. It gives me confidence in my writing. Thank you all so much! REVIEW me your love! -Ann