Gran enrolled me at Mystic Falls High, and the first day of school loomed just a week away.
After completing our errands, Gran and I went to the local public library, a quaint brick building with ivy creeping up its walls. I was curious to see if a library card would be worthwhile. Inside, the scent of old books wafted through the air, and I was pleased to find shelves lined with an impressive collection of titles. I decided to sign up for a card; after all, I could always pick up a book or two for Gran.
On the other hand, Gran eagerly filled her arms with several romance novels. She chattered excitedly with a friendly local as I carefully arranged our selections in the trunk of her old sedan. As I stood there, I watched the townspeople bustling about, adding to the vibrant tapestry of the day.
The scene before me felt like something out of a cheesy movie, a postcard version of small-town life. The warm sun bathed everything in a golden hue, making me wonder why my parents had ever left Mystic Falls.
They had told me it was too dangerous, but the atmosphere felt safe and inviting here—almost like a scene from Mayberry.
Maybe my parents had explained to Gran why they left, or perhaps Bonnie, the girl I had heard so much about, knew the story.
She had probably lived here her entire life, and who could understand what the town was like better than a local?
Or maybe some of my parents' old friends were still around—indeed someone could...
"Hey!" a male voice suddenly called, jolting me out of my reverie.
It came from behind me. I briefly scanned the area, but the vibrant breeze whipped my hair into a frizzy mess, making it difficult to focus.
"Hey!" the voice called again, more insistent this time.
I glanced around, still unsure of who I was looking for, feeling mystified by the chaos of my hair and the swirling leaves around me.
"Watch out!"
Wham!
I crashed into something solid and unyielding—a bike rack, I surmised—and tumbled gracelessly to the ground. I felt like my toes had somehow touched my ears in the fall.
"Bella!" I heard Gran exclaim, her voice laced with concern.
As I lay there awkwardly, I noticed several pairs of feet approaching me. I was grateful I'd opted for jeans today; Gran had insisted I wear a sundress, which would have been far less forgiving.
"Are you okay?" two pairs of hands reached down, helping to pull me upright.
"I'm fine," I managed to say as they lifted me to my feet. "Thanks!"
Turning to face my rescuers, I looked at a striking young man and a beautiful girl.
The guy stood tall at about 6 feet, with mesmerizing baby blue eyes and short dark blond hair that framed his chiseled features. He wore a casual red t-shirt accentuating his physique, faded jeans that looked well-loved, and sturdy brown boots. The girl matched his beauty, standing at nearly my height with long, wavy brown hair cascading down her shoulders and captivating green eyes that sparkled with curiosity. She wore a black tank top, a short skirt, and fashionable boots that completed her look.
"No problem," the guy said, flashing a friendly smile. "You don't look familiar. Who are you?"
"Bella Swan," I replied, returning his smile.
"I think I know you," the girl said with a hint of recognition. "Was your mother a kindergarten teacher or worked with children?"
"Yes, but she didn't become a teacher until I was 6," I answered, surprised at the familiarity. "We lived here in Mystic Falls until I was 4."
"Was she a teacher's aide?" she probed, her eyes sparkling with interest.
"Yes! Um, what's your name?"
"Vicki Donovan," she said, her enthusiasm palpable.
Donovan didn't ring a bell for me.
"I was so young, I can hardly remember."
"What is your mother's name?" she asked, her tone inquisitive.
"Renee," I replied.
I turned to the guy, who I assumed was Vicki's brother since she kept nudging him to speak.
"Why did they leave Mystic Falls?" he finally asked, breaking the brief silence.
"I think I remember them mentioning something about it being too dangerous," I said, a hint of hesitation in my voice.
"Too dangerous?!" they exclaimed together in disbelief.
So, I wasn't the only one who found the idea of Mystic Falls to be dangerous and absurd.
It seemed like a paradise compared to the gloomy weather back in Forks.
"Bella, are you alright?!" Gran rushed toward me, her expression mixed with worry and relief.
She enveloped me in a tight embrace, her arms surprisingly strong for someone her age.
"Gran! I'm okay!" I assured her.
"You took a nasty fall," someone behind us commented, their tone sympathetic. "Are you sure you're alright?"
I broke free from Gran's grip and turned to face the voice.
A woman stood around 5'1" with beautiful cocoa-brown skin and almond-shaped brown eyes that held a warmth akin to Gran's. Her curly hair framed her face, and she wore a long turquoise tunic that flowed over blue jeans and stylish brown boots.
I thought momentarily of Bonnie and the connection we shared.
"Yeah, I mean yes, ma'am. I'm accident-prone," I replied, attempting a smile. "I can—and have—fallen on my own feet. I'm Bella."
"Yes, Marie spoke highly of you," the woman said, her smile encouraging.
"Marie? Oh, right, Gran!" I said, realizing she was referring to my grandmother.
"You used to play with my granddaughter and her friends when you lived here."
"What's your granddaughter's name?" I asked, intrigued.
"Bonnie," she answered.
"Bonnie Bennett?"
"You remember Bonnie?" There was a glimmer of joy in her eyes.
"She and her friends came over to welcome us back."
"Caroline Forbes and Elena Gilbert?" she added, her voice laced with nostalgia.
So Elena's last name was Gilbert; I couldn't help but question if I had liked her back then.
"I hope my granddaughter didn't—"
"No, Bonnie was perfect. But I might have hurt Caroline's feelings. Maybe Elena's too," I said, brushing it off, though I didn't care much about their feelings.
"Don't worry about it," the guy interjected. "Elena's a sweetheart; she'll talk to Caroline for you."
"Bella, if you spend your life letting someone else fight your battles, you'll never win a fight," I quoted, channeling my dad, Charlie's, voice.
"What?" they both asked, looking confused.
"My dad used to say that to me all the time."
The sudden rush of memories about Charlie, Renee, and the tragedy of the accident made me feel slightly breathless, and I felt my knees start to buckle.
"Careful, careful," the guy, who still hadn't introduced himself, said as he and Vicki guided me to a nearby bench while Gran fretted about it.
I wiped my eyes, thankful that no tears had spilled.
I muttered my apologies and tried to stand; I felt unsteady and swayed slightly.
"Easy, child," Mrs. Bennett said, sitting beside me, her presence warm and reassuring.
"Accident-prone," I reminded her with a faint smile. "I'd rather apologize to Caroline myself. My parents fought for me my whole life; I should at least try to fight for myself once."
"Your father sounds like a wise man," she responded thoughtfully, her gaze reflecting wisdom and understanding.
Dear Diary,
Today, I met a new student named Bella Swan. She's around Jeremy's age, but it's clear that her frail appearance makes it hard to judge accurately. Her skin is ashen, giving her an anemic look, and her long, limp dark brown hair, with its distinctive widow's peak, frames her face in a way that demands attention.
Bella's large, dark brown eyes are both striking and unusual, set wide apart, and they exude a sense of depth that is hard to ignore. Her heart-shaped face, though soft, features a notably high forehead that stands out—almost a five-head. Something is compelling about her presence, one that makes you want to learn more about her.
Her nose is thin, and her cheekbones are pronounced—it's hard to overlook that contrast. Her lips are disproportionately full compared to her less-defined jawline.
Let's be clear: I don't like Bella Swan. She carries herself with an air of superiority, playing the 'I'm not like other girls' card as if she's somehow smarter than Caroline and me. Bonnie insists that Bella is uncomfortable and suggests that we should be more welcoming, but I'm not convinced she deserves our friendliness.
To my surprise, Caroline seemed to agree with Bonnie grudgingly, but there was an unsettling quality about her that I couldn't shake off. On the other hand, Bonnie appeared to like her genuinely; she even suggested that we invite her to join us on our shopping trips. But, no, bella seem confused about her style, almost as if she's completely lost in fashion. I imagined her wardrobe being filled with outfits that wouldn't look out of place in a bowling alley—a mix of uncoordinated pieces that lacked any sense of flair or trend.
Ugh, I know I'm being too harsh.
But wait a minute...
Did I just refer to her as Bella Swan?
Has she ever disclosed her last name to me?
She mentioned that she used to live here, which makes me wonder if our paths crossed in the past. Perhaps she was just as awkward in those days, too.