A/N: Yeah, it was yanked again, apparently for child abuse scenes, but when I contacted FFn admin they said it was fine. *sighs* what a hassle. So , here we are again.
Just a quick recap: Bella's Australian; she talks like a regular Australian girl would. So please don't PM me or review telling me that it's not how Australians speak and that I have terrible spelling. Yes, I have been told this before. Made me doubt that I was really born in "straya" ;)
I didn't want Bella to sound like an Aussie slang dictionary spewed her out, so I made her speak exactly how I do. I can be a tad bogan—sometimes.
Anywho 4th times a charm—or is it 5th? Hell, I dunno….

Chapter 1.

Leaving Home

Bella's POV

We met in the stables at Kel's property. Being around horses was always a part of who we were, and it had always been the place where we'd confessed our secrets and dreams to each other.

It seemed only fitting that it was the place where we would say good-bye.

"This is it, Bells," Nummi spoke up first, trying in vain to replace her obvious heart ache with optimism. She only half succeeded, and as tears welled in her eyes, a warm smile, full of encouragement, spread across her face. "But it's going to be awesome."

I nodded glumly, not feeling as optimistic, while the smile I'd been trying to maintain turned sad as I met her gaze.

"Yeah…" I whispered, afraid that anything louder would unleash my tears prematurely. I couldn't cry—not yet.

There was still so much to say…

Breaking my gaze hastily, she clumsily wiped her eyes, before shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

It was unbearable, and looking down at my feet miserably, I sighed for the infinite time that morning, continuing to fight desperately to hold back the grief that was waiting to crush me.

Nummi, Rach and Kel were the three pieces of my heart—the three reasons why I was still breathing in this world. Why I had lasted seventeen years. They weren't just my best friends, but my family; the only family I'd ever known. I owed them more than they would ever know—more than I could ever repay—and I loved them more than my own life.

They'd been there every day of my life, getting me through one day after another, that I honestly had no idea how I was supposed to leave them behind. The idea was literally unfathomable and was beginning to fill me with a suffocating panic.

By the time I met Nummi's gaze again, her tears were spilling silently down her face as she smiled bravely through them.

Swallowing hard past the burning in my throat, I glanced hastily at Rach.

"Hey, we'll chat everyday on Facebook—and besides, you won't have time to miss us," Rach added in almost a dismissive tone, only her voice was wavering.

I nodded, this time with a sense of growing anxiety. "Every day," I insisted, while Rach's brow suddenly bunched heavily, as she struggled to hold back her tears. It was so rare for her that I half expected her to become frustrated by it, but she didn't.

When I turned to Kel, she smiled, her expression determined … but stricken.

My heart was breaking.

"It's gonna be ok, Bella. This is the best thing that could ever happen to you. You'll see," Kel spoke up full of reassurance, only her tone was choked and thick with emotion.

It was Kel who insisted I do this. It was Kel who made me see that I had to do it. She'd been there with me from the very beginning; she knew me inside out, and knew every sordid detail about Renee. She was going to be the hardest to say goodbye to.

I only nodded again, unable to share her confidence, because I honestly didn't think I could do this, and it seemed so incredibly unfair that I had to.

"Bella, you'll be having such a great time that you won't have time to get home sick. Remember how happy you were the last time you visited?" Nummi reminded me in a fractured attempt at enthusiasm.

But this time I wasn't just visiting…

"I remember…"I replied, my voice catching and dropping to a husky whisper as the tears brimming in my eyes spilled over.

Kel threw her arms around me before speaking to me firmly—resolutely, "Don't worry about us, Bells. Just be happy—promise me!"

I closed my eyes; the tears continued to fall beneath my lashes. "I can't do that," I sobbed, as my chest jerked through the pain. "I can't."

"You can, Bella!" It was Rach this time, as she wrapped her arms around me; just as Nummi did the same.

I shook my head over and over.

"They'll love you, Bella, because for the first time in your life they will see who you really are, and not as just Renee Dwyer's daughter. Trust me," Rach insisted, seeming to get on top of her tears; appearing annoyed by their presence.

It seemed unfathomable that anyone would ever see me as anything but Renee Dwyer's daughter; as the illegitimate child of the town whore and closet drunk.

"It's true, Bells," Nummi agreed, pressing a sloppy, tear streaked kiss on my cheek. "They'll see who we see every day."

"Oh, God—stop it," I mumbled feeling my face flush, and not knowing if I was more embarrassed than I was heartbroken, before scrunching up my nose to show how much of a contradiction it was to the truth. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about me. I was just me; average Bella Swan.

"Oh suck it up, girl. It's gonna happen whether you like it or not!" Kel broke into a chuckle, wiping her tears quickly away before her tone teasingly feigned authority. "And if I find out you're acting like a sook over there, I'm going to get on the first plane and kick your ass!"

Almost chuckling, I nodded quickly, smiling at her affectionately before the misery could engulf me again.

"I love you guys," I admitted softly. My tears held off until those words were out of my mouth, before I dropped my head into my hands and completely surrendered to them; to the burning ache in my chest.

I felt their arms enclose around me more tightly, and even when I was completely inconsolable, they continued to encourage me until there were no more words left; until there was nothing but tears.

They were my past, my yesterday; all I had in this world. They'd kept the fragmented pieces of me together, kept me moving forward for seventeen years, and tomorrow they'd be gone.

I had to keep telling myself repeatedly why I was leaving—why I had to leave. Why I'd run away to Sydney when I knew The General's ship was docking, to beg him to help me get away from her. Because right at this moment none of it seemed worth this amount of pain.

"Go," Kel said to me, shoving me gently towards the doors, after it was obvious I was stalling. "Go, Bells, and don't look back."

But I did.

They stood together like they always did. I absorbed the image of them, cementing it in my mind, before I trudged back to Renee's, carrying the pain of it with me the entire way.

I would leave a piece of myself behind with them, and the Bella that began her new life on the other side of the world would be a vastly different person because of it.

...

They'd pooled their money together and bought me a white gold chain that held a little angel wing pendant. I put it on the minute I got home, my hands fumbling through my tears, making sure it was safely concealed beneath my jacket. I wouldn't give Renee an opportunity to take it from me, like she had everything else.

Not this time.

Kel had also given me our tenth grade class photo. I had no school photos of my own; Renee never bought them. She was never bothered enough to be interested in things like school photos like most mothers were. She was never bothered enough to be interested in me—with anything other than resentment, that is.

Stubbornly wiping the tears from my face that were beginning to stem from self-pity, I zipped up my suitcase and hauled it off the bed beside me. It was surprisingly light considering it held my entire life's possessions, but it didn't bother me this time. Apart from the guys, the less reminders I had of this life the better.

At eleven that morning I was boarding a train to Sydney, before flying to Los Angeles, and then on to a connecting flight to Port Angeles, Washington.

All on my own.

I tried not to allow myself to become overwhelmed by the magnitude of it, but if I was being honest with myself, and that was only a novel idea at best, it was scaring the absolute life out of me.

I was on the verge of contemplating another emotional meltdown when Renee strode in my room. Without knocking, as usual.

"Bella—"my mother had an extraordinary talent of speaking my name with absolute disdain"—Phil said he'll take you—and you know I have my poker game with the girls at 12." Her tone suddenly turned dark and resentful.

I'd bribed her to take me to the train station—promising to pay her after she dropped me off. She would have never agreed otherwise, but I knew it was still pissing her off to the point I was forced to sleep in the barn the night before. Renee's jealousy was a lot more dangerous than her intoxication.

Though, why I even wanted her to take me at all was one of the pivotal reasons I needed to leave.

Blinking, I suddenly wanted to scream at her, "don't fucking bother then!", but I shouldn't have been surprised. There wasn't much Renee could do to surprise me anymore, but this was an exception. Her complete disregard for the fact that I was leaving hurt me more than I would ever admit. Her indifference to me had always been the biggest source of pain for me—more than the physical abuse. All I ever craved from her was her love, and all I received in return was resentment and cruelty. I knew, only too well, how close it had come to breaking me.

This was why I was leaving; why Kel made me do it.

"You don't have to go, Renee, but since I am leaving the country and—" I mumbled in reply, my voice small and meek, making me want to grit my teeth in frustration.

"Fine! I'll come then!" she snapped in interruption, huffing brashly with growing irritation.

As much as I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, my level of bravery where she was concerned bordered on cowardice at best. It always had. There was a very significant, pitiful part of me that would never stop yearning for her love and acceptance, and I knew as long as I was under her roof, I would never stop trying to earn it from her.

I hoped that one particular character defect of mine where Renee was concerned would stay behind in this dismal room of her house where I grew up, long after I left.

...

"I noticed you took everything, Bella. Why?" Renee demanded, as we sat in Phil's 4WD on the way to the train station.

Did she think I was coming back?

I shrugged to myself, but didn't offer a reply; though, inside I wanted to smirk.

She only scoffed to herself sarcastically, making me shrink further into myself. I knew her moods, and what made her snap; I wasn't out of danger just yet.

Just 5 minutes more. Don't piss her off, I told myself inwardly, closing my eyes and sighing heavily.

Almost there…

Of course, I knew she was referring to all the stuff The General had sent me; the jewellery, the perfume, and the handbags. They were never things I really had a lot of interest in, but the fact that they made Renee green with envy gave me a lot of satisfaction. His gifts were just one of the reasons why my very presence in her life caused her so much resentment—and the fact that I resembled my father so much. It was one of the few small pleasures I got out of our twisted relationship—this was despite the numerous beatings I'd received because of them—but as much as it gave me a reason to triumph over her, it was the opposite of what I really wanted from him.

The General was how I referred to my father. Of course, he wasn't really a General, but a Rear Admiral in the U.S. Navy. Eighteen years ago, Lieutenant—at the time—Charlie Swan was a ticket in Renee's deluded and naïve mind to a better life. Someone to see the beauty she was convinced she possessed, fall in love with her and take her away from the small country town that she always believed was beneath her.

I could picture it clearly in my mind just as I had hundreds of times; Renee, over dressed as usual, wearing her hideous bright orange lipstick, waiting on the docks, scrutinising each and every male that stepped off the ship. The sap who noticed her was my father. My father, who, like every other sailor stepping on to dry land, wasn't thinking much about rescuing deluded Australian damsels—not that night, at least.

I scoffed to myself, aghast that Renee and I actually shared the same DNA, and in doing so attracted Phil's attention.

"What was that, Izzy?" he asked, glancing at me through the rear view mirror and winking.

Another reason why I had to leave. I might not have been the most experienced seventeen year old on the planet, but I knew that look all right!

My name is not Izzy, you wanker, I wanted to yell at him, but of course I never would. Just because it was my last day as Renee's daughter, didn't mean she wouldn't slap my smartass face for offending her man.

"Bella! My name is Bella!" was my angry reply, not bothering to hide the absolute aversion I felt for him from my tone.

I hated him. Out of all Renee's men, he was the worst; he made my skin crawl.

"I know," he drawled, winking again.

He only continued to smirk at me, making me wish I had a pencil to stab in his eyes.

Just five minutes more, I told myself inwardly and repeatedly, massaging my forehead with the tips of my fingers, knowing the letch was still leering at me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I kept myself in denial. I was good at that.

...

"You should be grateful that you're getting this opportunity—God knows you don't deserve it," Renee said behind her press powder compact as we stood on the platform waiting for the train. Phil had gone to the bottle-o to pick up some alcohol for the little shindig they were throwing later that night. I had a paranoid suspicion it was a celebration for Renee having successfully gotten rid of me, and it made me want to start laughing bitterly. "What I would have given to have gone overseas at your age," she continued, her tone cold, her envy obvious.

She was envious, all right. I had the fading bruise on my cheekbone as proof; though of course, she had told everyone in town—who were gullible enough to believe her—that I'd got it in a school fight. It was laughable at best. I didn't get into school fights, and though a lot of kids had a serious problem with me—usually because Renee had slept her way through most of their fathers—they weren't game to lay a finger on me while Rach was around.

Shaking these thoughts from my mind, I held steadfast to the knowledge of her jealousy and smirked to myself. I didn't care if she noticed. Renee never hit me in full view of the public and risk her carefully crafted reputation, and there'd be no repercussions for me tonight. Not this night or any night after.

As it was, she hadn't noticed; she was distracted by angling the mirror of her compact to perv on a couple of guys that were sitting on the seats behind us. Judging from the flirtatious little grin and wink she threw, I was guessing that she'd caught their attention. They wolf-whistled back at her, and that was enough to lift her spirits considerably.

She threw me a smug, triumphant grin, obviously believing she had one over me again. I wanted to snort loudly; it was evidence enough just how well she knew me. If she ever saw me as more than the abysmal mistake—she'd never shied away from telling me I was—she'd know I had no interest what's so ever in competing with her for men.

Snapping her compact shut, she tossed her permed hair over her shoulder—for the obvious benefit of her two bogan admirers—continuing to smile to herself more than pleased.

I sighed deeply to myself beneath my breath, wishing I could erase the image of my mother flirting like a complete slag and expecting me to be jealous, during our final moments as mother and daughter.

"You think you can still help me out money wise!" Again it was a demand.

I nodded like the coward I was, while internalising all my frustration, even as I felt my face bunch in irritation.

That's all I had ever been to her: a meal ticket.

"God knows, Bella, it has not been easy being a single mother to a skulky kid like you, but I've done my best without asking for anything in return." She sniffed, dabbing at the corner of her eye with the knuckle of her little finger to wipe her non-existent tears.

This time, I felt myself stiffen indignantly, while my mouth all but fell open.

The train arrived—much to my overwhelming relief.

Still affected from her last admission, I picked up my suitcase. I'd seen her sacrificial mother act on numerous occasions, and the only thing that stopped me from shoving her in front of the oncoming train was the knowledge that I'd never again have to be subjected to it.

Clearing her throat, she glanced over her shoulder, searching for Phil, or her two admirers, I couldn't tell which. "So, Bella, this is it. Don't be late for the plane. I won't be coming all the way to Sydney to get you if you miss it."

I only blinked, feeling the continued stinging effects of her disregard, before I again entertained the thought of shoving her in front of the train. And as the image of her sprawled on the tracks a mess of dyed red hair and thigh-high, vinyl boots came to my mind, I smirked, almost chuckling.

"Oh—you think that's funny?!" she snapped impatiently, and I almost impulsively flinched away from the slap she would normally have delivered if we were at home. "Where's my money, anyway!" she challenged me, suddenly grabbing my arm and pulling me to directly face her.

Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the 50 dollar note and shoved it into her outstretched hand.

"You said you'd pay me one hundred!" she seethed between clenched teeth, yanking me closer to her.

"I gave the other 50 to Phil," I protested, weakly, instinctively cringing away from her.

She only glared at me for a moment, gauging me closely, before releasing me with absolute contempt. "Just go!"

Almost stumbling, I reached down to grab my suitcase again, blinking back the burning of forming tears behind my eyes. I wasn't sure whether it was a product of her last cutting remark, or because I was about to step on the train and leave. All I knew for certain was how pathetically pitiful I was that I would never be able to shrug off her aversion for me.

"Well … goodbye," I offered, taking a shaky breath, and meeting her cold, hard gaze.

"Goodbye," Her tone was completely indifferent, before she done something that completely surprised me. Leaning in she quickly air-kissed my cheek.

Perhaps she really meant to kiss my face and only didn't because of the fact that again, by instinct, I'd flinched away from her. I wasn't sure, but as my hand rose involuntarily to cover the spot where her lips had almost touched my skin, I was pretty certain it was the first time she'd ever attempted to kiss me.

I almost physically wavered, before quickly and impatiently I shoved it away.

"Good luck, Renee, and with Phil also. You two deserve each other." It was my intention to sound sincere, but I was suddenly feeling pissed off. Pissed off at this poor excuse for a mother before me, and her poor excuse for a goodbye.

Catching the real meaning behind my words, she sneered at me, her eyes narrowing, before she turned her back on me and walked away.

And that was it.

Stepping onto the train, lugging my suitcase behind me, I found a seat facing the opposite side of the platform, sat down clumsily, then dropped my head into my hands and broke into bitter, pitiful tears.

Let the passengers think I was crying because I was leaving my mother. Let them think we were close the way mothers and daughters were supposed to be. Let them think I was going to be homesick every minute that I was away. Because the idea that complete strangers were mistaking my tears was a league better than the reality. My mother never loved me, and in all honesty, could care less that I was leaving.

…

It took me a lot longer than it really should have to recover from our farewell, but I had nothing else to do on the five hour trip to Sydney but wallow in self-pity, and allow myself to be consumed by panic.

What if it made no difference? I suddenly feared. What if I would always be known as Renee Dwyer's daughter no matter where I was in this world?

After a while, and several tissues from the well-meaning old lady in the seat opposite me, I snapped myself angrily out of it.

I was leaving this God forsaken, drought ridden, one horse town, and Renee and Phil, and starting a new life. I should have been happy—excited, but I wasn't. I sat too engulfed by fear of the unknown, and too used to an existence of abuse to be able to maintain hope or optimism.

Even still, I knew I was doing the right thing. I couldn't survive another week as things were. I was suffocating, and the oxygen that Nummi, Kel and Rach had given me with their friendship had kept me just on the brink of life. I was existing, but I was dying. Dying the way a flower does when it gets no sunlight; dying because I had lived under the toxic roof of an alcoholic, abusive parent who had never shown me an ounce of love.

If it wasn't for the girls in the end, I would never have found the backbone to contemplate such a thing. But they had given me the courage to confront my father and plead with him to take me away, anywhere, so long as it was far from my mother. I'd sat on a train in near identical circumstances that time too, terrified beyond belief as I ran away to Sydney to see him.

I suddenly scoffed bitterly to myself, knowing I hadn't technically run away, because the term 'running away', would only apply if one was missed. Renee wouldn't have noticed I was gone; especially, while her cupboards were "well stocked".

My father's ship had only docked in Sydney overnight for fuel—or whatever it was that aircraft carriers needed to dock for. I'd almost bloody missed it. I'd run three blocks and explained, flushed and over excited to the naval guard that I was Rear Admiral, Charlie Swan's daughter and that I needed to speak to him urgently. I'd tried to remain calm, but still, he had eyed me sceptically, asking me to provide identification. I'd fumbled for my wallet, practically upending the contents of my purse on the pavement in my haste to get my driver's licence out. I handed it to him, and he studied it, still dubious as he eyed me, the photo on the card, then me, then the photo, over and over.

I was on the verge of having a hysteria-induced aneurysm, when he finally spoke something into his earpiece and led me on board.

I was left in a small cabin to wait for my father, and as soon as he entered, with a concerned, weary look shining in his eyes, I broke down and threw myself into his arms. He was always very serious and intimidating with all the authority that oozed from him, but he was my father, and I knew he loved me. His first love was the sea, but I was a close second.

I explained it all to him, every wretched detail that was my life with Renee, the abuse; the beatings; the alcohol—all of it. I was careful to stay composed and coherent knowing him enough to understand that hysterical female ramblings made him uncomfortable and impatient. After all, I'd seen it fail for Renee plenty of times in the past where he was concerned.

"Please, Charlie, I can't stay with her any longer. I can't!" I'd broken down at the end, but by the time I'd finished my story, I didn't think he'd begrudge me a few tears.

He sighed deeply and scratched his forehead, where the weary lines were etching deeper. "Okay, Isabella"—he was the only one that called me that, and it was always okay with me—"I'll take care of it. Leave it with me."

And he did. He'd arranged for me to go and live with his brother in Washington, U.S.A.

The train jolted and I realised as Charlie's face was still clear in my mind that I was smiling sadly. I barely got to see my father once a year, and I missed him.

I always suspected he had wanted me in the U.S. away from Renee. When I was little, he talked her into letting me come for a holiday—with a great amount of cash, I might add. I'd had such a great time—you would have been surprised by the difference a bit of love could make in a kid—that once I was home my constant chirpy mood and nonstop chatter had pissed off Renee so much she forbade all future holidays. Though, I suspected she was never going to let me go back out of nothing but spite and envy.

I was almost certain that if Renee hadn't received her rather sizable child maintenance from Charlie every month, she would have given up custody of me to him years ago. As it was now that I was seventeen, she was no longer receiving a penny, and all his child maintenance was now going into my bank account.

I snorted softly to myself and smirked, enjoying the perverse feeling it gave me. I'd received more beatings than I could count by Renee demanding the money he'd given me. I never relented, always insisting that he wasn't sending me a cent. Eventually, after she'd claimed Youth Allowance on my behalf—keeping all of it—she stopped beating me for The General's money.

It was completely twisted, but the only thing that kept me from throwing up, was keeping Renee constantly in my thoughts, and by the time the train arrived at the Sydney International Airport, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Add to that another three hours in the terminal, and fifteen hours in the air, and by the time I arrived in Los Angeles, I was dead on my feet.

I wasn't able to sleep on the plane. By the time it took off, I was all adrenalin and nerves. Plus, fifteen hours was too long a time to contemplate the ludicrous idea that huge, metal, man-made contraptions really had no business thousands of feet in the air. After that, every little bump that the plane made caused me to have a series of minor strokes. Trying to console myself with the fact that a Qantas plane had never gone down did nothing to ease my fears; because with my luck, I reasoned, the first time it did would be when I was on board.

The plane did not go down in flames; it brought me safely to the next part of my destination, and to the United States.

Once I got through the ordeal of customs, I stumbled over to a row of chairs, let my suitcase drop to my feet, and collapsed in a heap of unwashed hair and exhaustion. I had two and a half hours before the plane to Washington took off, but if I was able to pull myself up out of this chair again, it'd be a miracle.

I only sat numbly, too exhausted and too daunted to attempt to sleep, watching the planes come and go dejectedly, when a tall shadow fell over me.

"Bella? Is that you?"

Practically jumping out of my skin, I looked up hastily, squinting, trying to refocus my eyes. A tall—very tall—boy was standing in front of me grinning broadly with an over-emphasized, bright expression on his face.

"H-huh?" I stammered blankly in response.

"It's me…." He let his voice trail off and paused, allowing me the time to recognise him. When it was clear I didn't, he enlightened me, "Jacob!"

As my expression slowly went from bewilderment to recognition, before finally to shock, he laughed.

My memories of Jacob were vague and hazy. The only time I had met him, was during my one and only trip to the United States with Charlie. I was eight and he was seven.

I sat myself upright in the chair with a start. "Oh … w-what are you doing here? Wasn't I suppose to meet you and Unc—your dad in Washington?" I stuttered, shaking my head to myself, trying to establish some form of coherent thought.

"Your dad bought me a ticket to meet you here and to fly home again with you. I think he was worried about you being in this airport," he explained, before looking around himself in obvious appreciation. "It's huge, that's for sure."

All I could manage in reply was an exhausted half smile, before expelling my breath with overwhelming relief. I was tired of being alone and was plagued with exhaustion driven despondency. Plus, Jacob would more than likely come in handy when it came time to fireman lift me onto the plane.

He laughed again. "I think you need a coffee. There's a Starbucks around the corner, do you want to grab one?"

"A … a Starbucks?" I repeated blankly, before feeling a surge of self-conscious heat flush my face. Obviously it was a coffee shop. What the hell difference did it matter what the name of it was? I seriously needed caffeine!

"Yeah … you haven't heard of … Starbucks?" Jacob asked, raising an eyebrow and looking like he was on the verge of breaking into laughter again.

"Well … I've heard of it. I've seen it on television ..." I mumbled in reply as my cheeks burned hotter. It was a lie.

Jacob only laughed as though I'd just told him a ridiculously funny joke.

"Come on," he said with a grin, his tone turning warm, before reaching down and pulling me a little roughly to my feet. He then grabbed my suitcase, hauling it three feet off the ground in his grip—as though it contained feathers instead of my entire worldly possessions.

He's the bloody hulk and he has no clue of it, I thought with a small smile as I walked—if that's what you could call it—with Jacob towards the cafe. I was so tired I relied on his steadying arm more than my own feet.

"Wow, you really need sleep, huh?" Jacob chuckled, after his numerous efforts at keeping me upright were still failing.

I gazed up at him, taking in his massive form. I didn't remember him being so big when we were kids.

"That I do," I answered, returning his smile, sheepishly.

The extra strong coffee that I ordered, and almost choked on, gave me an immediate, and badly needed, burst of energy. I found myself laughing and chatting easily with Jacob until the final minutes before we had to board the plane. I warmed instantly to him—it was almost impossible not to; he practically radiated the sun. As we went through several hot coffees, he told me a lot about Forks. It seemed like a nice place, small town, probably not unlike the one I'd just left, but with a hell of a lot more rain, and with the huge exception of no Renee.

And no Nummi, Rach and Kel….

...

"It's a couple of hours till we reach Port Angeles, you should try and sleep," Jacob suggested once we were seated and waiting for the plane to take off.

"I don't think I'll be able to, but I'll be ok," I replied rubbing my itchy, heavy eyes in attempt to improve my already blurred vision. I might not have been able to sleep, but that wasn't to say I wouldn't fall unconscious. I feared I wasn't going to last much longer.

Jacob only laughed again, warmly.

He seemed to get amused very easily, I noted—not that I minded. His cheerfulness was contagious and refreshing, and I was able to absorb it as a distraction from my exhaustion, and before I was aware of it, in the late afternoon, we landed in Washington.

"So, Bella, I hope you've got a warmer coat than the one you've got on, or you're going to freeze," Jacob stated, leaning toward me a fraction, his lips tugging askew, as we waited for the seat belt sign to switch off.

What I was wearing was hardly a coat; it was more of a light jacket. But in my ignorance I was sure it would be sufficient enough for rainy weather. After all, when it rained in one-horse-town, New South Wales—which wasn't often—the humidity went through the roof.

I shook my head blankly, while my face prickled again self-consciously. "This is all I have…."

Chuckling, he shook his head to himself. "You'd better buy a decent one when we get into the airport."

Uncle Billy, Jacob's father, was waiting as we stepped off the plane. I recognised him immediately from his obvious resemblance to The General, as well as from my vague childhood memories—minus the greying tips of his dark hair.

He grabbed me in a big bear hug, something that was very foreign to me, and I fought hard to keep myself from tensing. The General had too much of a stiff upper lip, and I'd learnt to avoid Renee's men like the plague when I was very young.

"Bella, you've grown so much, I hardly recognised you," he said with a gruff affection.

Chief Billy Swan was a tall man like Jacob and my father, with a kind, weather worn, stern looking face. And just as he resembled my father, he emanated as much authority.

Placing a protective, fatherly hand on my back as we walked, he guiding me to the baggage area.

Again, Jacob grabbed my suitcase as if it was empty before we went in search of a clothing store.

I bought a coat, a parka, several wool jumpers, two beanies and mittens—everything that Billy suggested—and once we were out of the store Jacob laughingly helped me to put half of them on. He pulled layer after layer over my head as I laughed in good nature, but still, as soon as we walked outside the cold hit me like a freight train.

"Holy sh-sh-sh-shit!" I exclaimed impulsively, reeling backwards from the suffocating pain of the ice cold air filling my lungs. It was March; not a day ago I was breathing in the dry, thirty-six (96.8 F) degree heat of inland New South Wales.

Billy cleared his throat, his expression puckering a little disapprovingly.

I felt my cheeks stain with heat—that disappeared instantly in the freezing temperature. "S-Sorry," I murmured, with chattering teeth, wrapping my arms around myself in a vain attempt to stay warm.

"It's ok, Bella," Jacob reassured me, flashing me a mischievous grin.

I attempted to grin back, but it came out as a grimace, which Jacob seemed to find more amusing.

This kind of cold was something I had never experienced before in my life. It was paralysing, penetrating through my layers of clothes and seeping through my skin. My lungs burned and my limbs locked up as I attempted to walk the one hundred or so metres to Uncle Billy's car.

Eventually, with continued laughter, Jacob half dragged, half carried me the distance.

Once inside the car I relaxed and let the warmth from the heating thaw out my frozen limbs, as I gazed out the window at my new surroundings from the back seat of Billy's Police car.

To say that Washington was green was a massive understatement. It was so green that even the air seemed to be tinged with it. It rained from the moment we'd touched down, and would pour on and off in a way that I had not seen for years. But I loved it. It gave me a cosy, sleepy feeling and was so foreign from everything I had ever known.

Which was exactly what I was depending on.

After a while, the scenery outside began to blur together into different tones of green as my eyes fell heavily. I listened to the comforting sound of Jacob's animated chatter in the background, and allowed the humming of the car to lull me to sleep.

...

"We're home, Bella!" Jacob's voice invaded my near unconscious mind loudly. He nudged me roughly awake, but it was the ice cold wind that swept through the opened car door that snapped me fully awake. A violent shudder ran up and down my spine, as I all but stuttered out a barrage of shock-induced expletives.

Bloody hell!

Would I ever get accustomed to this cold?

Billy's house had not changed since the last time I'd been here. It was as if time had stood still, waiting for me to catch up with it. And as he ushered me inside, more and more memories came back to me, broadening the smile that was spreading across my face. I didn't realise it would be so familiar to me.

"So? What do you think, Bella?" Jake asked with enthusiasm, plonking my suitcase on the ground with a heavy thud.

Nodding, my smile turned sincere. "I love it, Jacob."

I did. After all, it was going to be my first ever real home.

Billy directed me to the room that was at the top of the stairs, as Jacob followed with my suitcase. It had previously belonged to his twin daughters, who I vaguely remembered, as Billy explained their whereabouts. One was away at University while the other had just recently married.

I shuddered at the very idea of it. Jacob, obviously catching my meaning, nodded in silent agreement.

Inside the room was all purple and girly with several posters of teenage boys that I was unfamiliar with. Again I found myself smiling before I was aware of my reaction to it. It didn't matter what it looked like; I would never find fault with it.

Billy remained in the doorway. "You're going to have to share a bathroom with Jake, if that's okay, Bella? It's just down the hall."

"No, that's fine, U-Uncle … Billy," I stammered, feeling stupid and uncertain by how I should address him.

He chuckled warmly. "You don't have to call me 'uncle', Bella. Billy will do just fine."

I nodded, my smile turning affectionate just as my throat began to choke with sudden emotion. Blinking, I forced it back, associating it with my incredible exhaustion and knowing I wasn't anywhere near the right frame of mind at that moment to delve deeper into it.

Billy cleared his throat, his eyes darting away from mine, reminding me suddenly of The General. "Well, I'm sure you'd like to unpack and have a shower. We might just leave you to it then."

"Yeah … I'm buggered, actually. I might just see if I can sleep for a bit," I mumbled, my voice cracking. I was so far and beyond exhausted I didn't think there was a word for it, and I was desperately craving the oblivion of sleep.

Nodding, Billy offered me a gentle smile, before shoving Jacob out of the way, who looked like he wanted to stay, he closed the door behind them.

I was left alone in my new room, in my new home; in my new life with the family I barely knew, but despite my incredible exhaustion, I couldn't deny the growing sense of anticipation.

Tomorrow … I'll take it all in tomorrow, I thought to myself, before releasing my breath, I dropped down on the bed and was unconscious before my head hit the pillow.

Who doesn't like flying?