One month… I'm sorry guys. I don't know, my life is better now! Maybe fanfiction isn't an escape from my life anymore which I need daily, it's just a hobby… I still love to write and my spark becomes bigger at times… but I'll try to update as much as I can!

Isabella's POV

Pfft, when was the last time I had a real smile on my face? Who does that boy think he is, my lifeguide? No thank you, I'm handling my life just fine on my own. I'm happy with my life, right? I have a great mom who gives me whatever I want, a nice house in a great city. I go to school everyday, meet my friends, boys flirt with me, the invisibles adore me, I'm popular! What else do I need in life, certainly not a guy telling me what I should do and what I shouldn't!

No, he shouldn't just come in here and pierce my soul with those perfect blue eyes and haunt my mind with his perfect personality and words… make my knees weak with his beautiful smile… I hate those kind of guys! He's trying to… make me sick, I feel this strange new feeling… weird, new boy.

I sigh frustratingly and stomp away to my room. I walk up to my nightstand, then I take out one of my key-earrings, which is a real key to the nightstand, but no one knows that. I insert the key in the nightstand-drawer and twist it around. A click-sound is heard as the drawer is unlocked.

I pull it out and look down in the drawer. A spare key, an extra phone-charger, a photo of my mom, dad and me as a 6-year old, some money, a pen made out of silver with a feather at the top and a book with the word 'poetry' written in squiggly, beautiful gold-letters.

I take out the book and my other earring, which is the key to the book. I unlock the book and I flip through the pages, probably 30 pages full of poems I've written. I've written poetry since I was 7 and even though I sucked at it back then, I've always thought it was so fun and freeing to write it. It's a way to escape the real world as well, to write down my thoughts.

I take out the feather-pen and flip to the next free page in it. I put the pen down on the left top of the paper and let my imagination and mind do the rest of the job.

The Devil's angel

His beautiful smile is a gift from the Devil

His ocean-blue eyes are a curse from Hell

His view on the world is strange and new

I'm curious about it, but I know

If I follow his path, it will not end well

His beautiful heart is evil

His optimistic soul is bad

He must be the Devil's angel

I don't know what's happening

He makes me feel something new

I'm feeling insecure about it

Is new good?

You never know

If you never dare to explore it

But do I dare to defy

The challenges I may meet

You never know

Until the moment has come

And your courage is put to the test

The wrong path feels so right

But do I dare to meet these feelings

Do I dare to meet this world?

Do I dare to face the Devil's angel?

Even though it is new?

You never know

Until you do

I put the pen back in the drawer and close the book. I look at the cover. It's a simple cover, with a white background, and the squiggly letters.

I sigh deeply and hug the book tightly against my chest, bringing my knees up to stomach.

Apparently during my writing, my mom had snuck into the house without making a single sound, because she suddenly stands in the door. I jump in fear and fall down on the bed.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her. She steps into the room and sits down on the bed with me.

"Do you still use this book?" asks mom, her tone surprised. I suddenly remember that I haven't showed her this book since I was 12 years old and I sigh.

"Yeah… I guess I do." I mumble quietly. She reaches out with her hand to take it, but I snatch it away and sit up straight. I look into her sad eyes. It's my private property, isn't it? Why should she touch it?

I silently shake my head at her and give her a threatening glare. Her slightly damp eyes turns sadder and she stands up again and starts walking out of the room. "I'm sorry for disturbing you… do you want any special dinner?" she asks emotionlessly.

I shrug. "I dunno, maybe tacos?" she nods and turns to leave the room. I look at her emotionless movements. She's been like this for so long now, I wonder why she really is like this? Maybe I should ask her…

"Mom?" I call on her in a more hopeful tone. She turns around, a glimpse of hope in her eyes as well. Like, her whole face just turned brighter of me calling her like that. Was it really that long ago I actually spoke to her like that?

"Yes, dear?" she asks. I open my mouth to ask her, but I slowly close it again. I repent, maybe I shouldn't ask it. Maybe it has something to do with…

I try to come up with something else to say. "…Remember, I only like corn and cucumber on my taco, okay." I say, then I turn away and mouth- what the hell?! I turn back again and smile a crooked smile.

Her shoulders drop and she nods. "Of course, darling." She says quietly and walks out of the room. I fall down on my bed, grab a pillow and groan into it.

Can't that woman just tell me if something's wrong then? She's my mother for God's sake, she should be able to talk to me! Wow, now I sounded like her mom or something…

Okay, my life is just not 'cleared out' for the moment. Hopefully it will be soon…

So this was a chapter from Isabella's point of view, I hope you guys liked it;)

Review, favorite and follow and stay tuned for the next chapter, I promise it won't take this much time! Oh just one more thing: I'm just such a playful person so I would like you guys to tell me something

Can you guys guess my age? Based on my writing-skills, I just want to know if my writing-skills are worse or better for my age, or maybe just perfect? Thanks to those of you who does it and who read the thick text!;)