AN: Hello! Thanks for clicking on this story :) I'd like to just address that a good few of Bella's thoughts are going to be not too kind to herself, and occasionally downright ableist. She is a scared, lonely kid who has had it rough. Please don't judge her. She will learn and grow and come to think more kindly about herself and others. I'd also like to mention that I am not an American! My understanding of the American foster system is minimal, and occasionally I might accidently use words or spellings that aren't actually used in America, but I'm trying my best! This story will deal with some quite sensitive topics, if you have any concerns, feel free to PM me :) Let the story commence . . .
"Are you okay, Bella?" Siobhan, the social worker, asked for the millionth time. There were very few questions that annoyed me as much as that one. Of course I wasn't okay! Who would be remotely okay about their whole life being upended once again? Who would be okay with being a barely functional human? Who would be okay about being asked every other minute by an almost stranger if they are coping?!
I'd like to think that Siobhan wasn't a complete idiot, but every time she asked me that question, I lost a little bit more of my already minimal faith in her.
"I'm fine." I mumbled, sweeping my hair over my eyes. She nodded in response, eating up one of the few lies I'd got good at telling. Siobhan was a tall, plump woman, who I think had only just qualified. If she wasn't a human, I might have actually liked her, but I disliked almost all humans on principle. Strike that, all humans. She'd took over my case a few weeks ago, after my old social worker Aro had retired. He was slow, distant, and overall, pretty lousy at his job. He always gave me a biscuit though, so despite making my life more difficult than it needed to be, he had that going for him.
We were on our way to my new foster family. I'd met the parents – Esme and Carlisle – once, a few days prior, and now I was going to live with them for the immediate future. My current proper foster family – or should I say last – consisted of just one person, Marcus. I'd been living there for 3 uncomfortably long months, before he had ended up getting arrested for threatening to shoot a co-worker. I know, he sounds like a pretty shitty person. You would be correct in that assumption.
Moving swiftly on, I'd spent the last week in an emergency foster home, whilst Siobhan found a longer-term placement, leading to where I was right now, sat in Siobhan's perfume-saturated Audi, on my way to live with the new family: the Cullens.
They had kids, five to be exact. Their reasons for having so many kids and then choosing to bring another teenager into the home eludes me, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. I had read the brief description of the family Siobhan had given me over and over again, memorising it word for word. Overkill, right? I know, but when your world is spinning out of control, gripping onto these little things is what keeps you surviving. If you could call what I was doing surviving.
A huge house appeared in view, through the car front window. I was sat in the back - Siobhan didn't seem to mind, after all - as I liked to avoid being closer to people than strictly necessary, so I had to angle my head to get a proper look. It was surrounded by what was probably acres of dense forest, shades of sprawling green and brown, a few early winter snowdrops nestled within the trees. The house was a beautiful orange-brown, fat black beams climbing the exterior, and framing the home. When Siobhan had given me a photograph of it, she had called it "the house" but I now understood that to be a lie. This wasn't a house; it was a goddamn mansion.
Okay, so new information acquired. Rich people. The Cullens were rich people. Well, this was novel, all of my previous foster families were lower-middle class at best. I began sorting through the files in my brain to try and locate anything I knew about the upper class. One of my elementary school bullies, Felix, was loaded, which didn't bode well for my time at this house. Oh well, not like my hopes were particularly high anyway.
Who am I kidding? I am seriously freaked out right now! I really don't have the energy for both new and evil. Seriously, why can't the universe pick one or the other?
Breathe, Bella.
They could be really nice, it's not like all my placements had gone horribly wrong! Charlie had been nice enough, until he got ill, of course. Maybe they could be like a rich version of Charlie? I could deal with that!
Pull yourself together, Bella. You can do this. It will be fine.
"We're here!" Siobhan said, as she pulled up the car. I wasn't too sure if she was talking to me or herself.
"Are you ready, Bella?"
"Yep." I mumbled, swallowing my sigh, and waiting for her to exit the car. I had never liked getting out first.
After we had both made it to the trunk of the car, I grabbed my stuff, clutching it tightly in front of me.
"Talk me through what will happen now." I said to Siobhan, after taking a big breath. Siobhan seemed to be pretty accommodating when I specifically told her what I needed from her. She was a relatively good person from what I had seen, she just didn't have the knowledge to know what I needed.
"We are going to go and knock on the door, and meet Mr and Mrs Cullen again, then we'll have a chat with them, then I'll leave. Is that okay, Bella?"
"They told me to call them Esme and Carlisle." I said it before thinking. When I said things like this, I usually got into trouble, which was a bit silly, when I was just trying to help. There seemed to be no sign of irritation from her though, apart from the slight tightening of her eyes, so I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay, we'll chat with Esme and Carlisle, then."
"Will anyone else be there?"
"I'm not sure, sorry Bella." Her smile was apologetic, which I decide was fair, since she really should have checked. I didn't like unpredictable things, as she well knew, and I'm sure it wouldn't have been too hard for her to find out.
"Are you ready?"
"Yep." I responded, pushing my lips into a smile, dropping it when I remembered that I would probably have to do a lot of pretend smiling inside the house, and my lips probably couldn't deal with it if I got started now. I would rather that just Siobhan thought I was a bitch, rather than the people that would be responsible for me for however long the adults dictated.
We walked up the expansive porch, and Siobhan knocked a couple of clear knocks against the clouded window of the door, before the door swung open, Siobhan's fist still in the air, revealing two people in their 40s.
"Bella! It is so nice to see you again! Come in, please." That was Esme: bright, a bit taller than me, and inexplicably nice. After meeting her a few days ago, I came to the conclusion that she must have been a hairdresser or something. Carlisle, Esme's husband, stood next to her, under a mop of platinum blonde hair, a huge, sweet smile on his face. He was a doctor, apparently, and I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. He sure had the bedside manner down.
I followed Siobhan in, adjusting my posture to counter act my body's attempts at protectively folding in on itself.
"How are you, Siobhan? Have you started Christmas preparations?" Esme asked, her tone conversational. I wondered if she was actually interested. I certainly wasn't.
"I'm good, thank you, Mrs Cullen, it'll be my daughters first proper Christmas, so I think we're going to go all out this year." She smiled.
"Please, call me Esme, Mrs Cullen is Carlisle's mum." She chuckled as I internalised an 'I told you so' cringing slightly. "That's so lovely, I remember our first Christmas with a baby, Emmett tried to eat the baubles!" The three adults were laughing now, louder than necessary, if you asked me. I joined in to be polite. I racked my brain for images of Emmett. He was the oldest of the Cullens, the huge one, with barely there, black hair.
"I'll have to keep them out of reach, Esme." Siobhan said, emphasising her preferred name as she smiled.
From the hallway, we entered a big, spacious room. The lounge had 3 sofas, and 2 comfy looking chairs. The room was illuminated by floor-to-ceiling windows, which I knew I'd be avoiding. I hated the idea of people being able to see me through them, without me being fully aware.
"Sit down, you two." Carlisle said, plonking down into an armchair. The movement said a lot. He felt free and safe and comfortable in this house. That was a luxury I was unfamiliar with. I moved to the adjacent sofa, sitting next to Siobhan, trying to not look as stiff as I felt.
"It's so lovely to see you again, Bella. We are so happy to have you here. Do you need a drink, or a snack or anything?" Carlisle said, leaning over himself in his seat.
In truth, I was a bit thirsty, but I knew I wasn't feeling comfortable enough for there to be any chance of me actually being able to swallow yet, so I just shook my head.
"I know you really don't know us very well, and it's probably very scary, but me and Esme really hope we can get you comfortable here. We're going to try our best to make this as easy for you as possible."
"Thank you." I nodded, trying to work out if he was being a bit patronising. I decided he wasn't.
"We've obviously read your file, and spoken to Siobhan, and after our brief chat on Tuesday, we know a bit more about you as a person, but we still don't really know much about you either, so please tell us whenever we do something wrong." He smiled. I nodded.
"Siobhan told us that you like to know what is going to happen before it actually happens, is that right?" Esme asked, looking between me and the adult next to me. I glanced at Siobhan, and she met my eyes, nodding and smiling, as if to say Go on, you got this, Bella.
"Yes." I nodded, turning back to Esme.
"Awesome, just checking." She smiled. "Do you mind if I talk you through what will happen during the rest of today?" I nodded again. Well, this was going pretty successfully so far.
"In a few moments, Siobhan is going to leave, but we'll see her again in a couple of weeks, so don't worry." Yeah, like I was worried about not seeing a relatively crappy social worker who I barely knew. "Then we are going to take you on a tour of the house, we'll have lunch, and then you have a couple of hours to do whatever you like. At around four o'clock, the other children will get home from school, and you can meet them. We'll have dinner, and then you can spend the evening chilling out. Does that sound okay?" I nodded, but that was a lot of information, and I really wasn't in the frame of mind to link together sentences. I wished they had written it down, then maybe I could have actually made an attempt at processing it.
"Awesome. Are you ready to say goodbye to Siobhan now?" Esme asked, gesturing at Siobhan. I nodded again.
"Goodbye, Siobhan." I said, turning to face her, raising my hand to wave slightly, before cringing at the realisation that waving at people sat next to you was not remotely cool. Not that cool had ever been my forte.
"Bye, Bella. You've still got my phone number, in case of emergencies, right?"
"Yep."
"Okay, do you need anything else?" She asked, as if she could actually provide any of the things I needed, like a society that gave a damn, or stability, or a fully-functioning brain.
"Nope."
"Okay, Bella. You take care. I'll see you in two weeks." She said, standing up, before exiting the room with Carlisle.
"I guess we should start the grand tour then, Bella!" Esme grinned.
"Okay." I smiled as we both stood up.
"This is the lounge, as I'm sure you've already worked out! We have some video games over here that you can play on the TV if you want, although you'll have to ask one of the kids on how to set it up, as I'm a bit of a technophobe. You can watch TV whenever you want in the evenings and weekends, but we normally just watch a sitcom or something that we can all agree on after we've eaten dinner. You can sit where you like, although all the family tend to have a go-to seat. Should we move on to the next room?" I was quickly learning that Esme filled in any of the awkward silences I left with more talking, which, I couldn't lie, I liked. Maybe we would actually get along. Ha. I followed her to the next room: the kitchen.
"Now I know you can have some problems with food, but the notes on you weren't too specific on what was okay and what wasn't, do you mind talking about that now?" She asked, a sympathetic look on her face.
"I'm not anorexic." I blurted out. God, me and my big mouth. Ever heard of thinking before you speak, Bella?! I felt myself blush, but Esme just chuckled.
"I didn't think you were, sweetie. The notes mentioned you can be quite a picky eater? And you don't like some foods touching?"
"It's a sensory thing." I mumbled. I didn't like being called a picky eater. It sounded like I was been annoying and fussy for the sake of it, rather than certain foods being actually unbearable. I think she heard me, but she didn't press.
"You said on Tuesday that you liked cooking? Maybe you could help me make your dinner tonight so that I can get an idea of what is okay for you?"
"Okay. That sounds good." I smiled. She continued to show me around the kitchen, pointing out all the essentials.
"You can eat anything whenever you want, although try not to go too heavy on the snacks, or you'll have no room for your dinner." She said, before I heard movement behind me. I turned around to see Carlisle entering the kitchen.
"Siobhan has just left." He smiled. I nodded.
"Do you want to snack on anything, Bella? Its being a big day for you, you must be hungry." He said.
"No, thank you."
"Okay, but know that you can get something whenever you like. We won't mind at all."
I nodded.
"Come on, Bella, let's go to the library, I think you'll love it, we've got so many books." Esme said, reaching to grab my hand. I flinched, and she dropped it quickly, her face looking horrified. Everyone seemed frozen for a moment. We both said "sorry" at the same time. My almost-permanent blush intensified to embarrassing levels, and I let my hair fall over my face. I silently cursed my blush, and wished I was normal. Carlisle broke the freeze frame.
"Come on, you two. Edward's piano is in the library, I bet he'll play for you if you ask him when he gets back from school. Do you play, Bella?" Interesting, a pianist. I summoned the image of what Edward looked like in my brain. He was the pretty one who had a twin, Alice.
"No, I've never had a chance to learn, although when I was in Arizona, we had a music lesson on the keyboards." I replied.
"Maybe we could organise lessons for you once you've settled in?" Esme asked, seeming to have recovered from the shock of my bizarre reactions.
"Hmm." I said, politely avoiding the question. I wasn't expecting to be here long enough to actually 'settle in', never mind the fact that it was unlikely that I would ever be well enough to deal with extracurriculars. We entered a door off of the hallway, revealing a room bigger than my last bedroom, with walls lined with full bookcases, a couple of comfy looking chairs, and an upright piano against one of the walls. Oh yeah, I'd be spending a lot of time in here.
"Did you manage to bring many books with you, Bella? I know how much you love to read."
"A few, I replied." It wasn't like anyone really ever bought anything nice for me, and even if they did, I could never take it on to the next house.
"Feel free to read as many books from the library as you like! Although, I must admit, a good few are some of my boring old medical journals." He laughed. I nodded, peaking at some of the books on the shelves, I recognised a few titles, but not many.
Carlisle and Esme showed me the downstairs bathroom, before leading me up the stairs, peaking into their bedroom, and showing me mine.
I was getting my own bedroom! That was a rare, but very welcomed, occurrence.
There wasn't much furniture, and it was a bit impersonal, but I didn't care. I. Was. Getting. My. Own. Bedroom. Internally, I released the most girly squeal possible.
A wooden bed was tucked into the corner of the room, a desk and chair were against the wall by the door, and a huge cabinet was opposite the bed. A window by the desk showed me the spacious back garden, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed the curtain that I could use to cover it.
"This is all yours, Bella. I know it's a bit boring at the moment, but we can maybe buy you some cushions or a rug to make it feel a bit more like yours?" Esme asked, and I nodded. That sounded nice, but I didn't have any money.
"Why don't you leave your stuff here, and we can show you the closest bathroom?" Carlisle said. I instinctively clutched it closer, and they noticed.
"Or you can bring it with you? That's fine as well." He smiled. I nodded, and followed them out of the room, bag in hand, to the bathroom across the hall.
"The other kids obviously have their bedrooms, but I'm sure they'll show you them themselves. Alice is particularly excited to meet you." Carlisle said, as we left the bathroom. "There a couple of other bathrooms, as well, although you probably won't ever need to use them. Then there is my study down the hall, if you can't find me, I'm probably in there."
"Why don't you take a few moments to take a breather and use the bathroom, and we'll meet you downstairs to make lunch?" Esme asked. I nodded, thankful for the chance to stop smiling, I was certain that by now my grin had adopted the characteristics of a grimace, despite my efforts. They left me to use the toilet, and I splashed some water on my face. There was a clock on the wall, and I decided that five minutes was the maximum acceptable time to hide in the bathroom. I pulled to toilet seat down and pulled out my poor, battered soft toy, Jake, and hugged him tight, breathing in his nameless scent. I clutched him close to me, pulling out Wuthering Heights from the binbag that I had brought all of my things in, and read my favourite two paragraphs over and over again, before the clock told me five whole minutes had passed. I sighed, and slipped my belongings back into the bag, before walking down the stairs to find Esme and Carlisle sat at the kitchen island, heads close together in quiet conversation.
"Hello." I announced. They were probably talking about me, but I didn't want to hear it. I had heard too many snarky comments about me from foster parents to last a lifetime.
"Bella! Are you feeling a bit better?" Esme asked, and I nodded in reply.
"Any ideas for what you would like for lunch? There's seven – now eight – of us, so we have pretty much every food you could think of." She smiled. I thought for a moment. Should I lie? I decided to try my luck, and hope they might actually have a safe food.
"Granola pot?" I whispered. I was scared they would think I was insane. They wouldn't necessarily be incorrect.
"We should have some, Rose loves them." Carlisle said, as Esme jumped from her stool and started rummaging through the fridge, before pulling out a small, packaged pot.
"Here we are! Have you had this type before?" She said, handing it over. I read the label and shook my head. It wasn't a familiar brand. Shit.
Now I was going to have to eat one of my foster sibling's favourite foods – that would be certain to piss any teenager off - and it might not even be nice. I should have lied.
"Well, maybe you'll discover a new favourite! Like Carlisle said, Rose eats these all the time, so they must be good." She grinned. I wished that I could somehow make the world understand that, yes, a lot of people like a lot of things, but I wasn't like that. Esme grabbed a spoon as I sat down at the island, opening the packet. I poured the granola on top of the yogurt. It seemed to be swirled with some sort of fruit puree – mango, if the label was to be trusted – and I didn't like the sound of that.
"I thought you didn't like food touching, Bella." Esme frowned, watching me.
"Just foods that aren't allowed to touch." I shrugged, and they both gave me a quizzical look.
"Which foods aren't allowed to touch?" Carlisle asked. I shrugged. How was I supposed to explain that? He nodded, accepting that that wasn't a question I could answer right now. I dipped the spoon into the food, scooping both the granola and yogurt onto it, before placing it into my mouth.
It. Was. Good.
And not just good, like really good. Like safe food good. Like the granola pots I had eaten every day for lunch in Arizona levels of good. Maybe I would like this Rose after all.
I munched it down, probably eating quicker than polite (but I couldn't help it) and saw Carlisle and Esme exchange a look and a smile. What the hell is that supposed to mean?! This was one of the worst parts about new people, you never knew what on earth all those expressions meant. It's not like I was even any good at reading the expressions of people I had spent a lot of time with.
"Thank you, that was really nice." I said, after I finished. Esme took the spoon off of me, and I went to put the pot in the bin.
"Here, have a glass of water, Bella." Carlisle said, as he filled up three large glasses with water from the tap. "You must be thirsty."
I took the glass and swallowed down the water, cringing when the taste hit my throat. I only liked chilled water, which made me sound like some sort of spoiled diva, but I couldn't help it. Room temperature water just made me want to throw up, but I drank it anyway. If I skipped too many drinks I'd pass out, and that was never a good thing.
"Why don't you go up to your room and unpack, and then you can just relax for a bit? You could maybe read something from the library? I'll bring up the family laptop to your room, so you can check your emails, or whatever you kids do on computers nowadays. Does that sound good?" Esme asked, as I swallowed the last of my water, feeling it slosh its way down my stomach. I nodded in reply.
"Thank you." I said, before leaving the room. I wasn't too sure what the thank you was for, probably for taking me into their home and feeding me, but I knew I was definitely grateful about something.
Up in my bedroom, I poured the contents of the binbag on my bed. I didn't have much, but it was a hell of a lot more than a lot of other kids in the system I knew had. Two books, three sets of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, Jake, and a porcelain ornament I got in my Grandmother's will. I refolded and placed the clothes in the set of draws, and placed my Grandmother's ballerina figure and books on the desk, tucked Jake under the duvet, and the hairbrush, deodorant and toothbrush on the bedside table, unsure of where else to put them.
I didn't like my things spread out like this. I liked them all close together in a bag, so I could grab everything and take it with me at a moment's notice, but I knew from experience that the sooner you find a place for your things, the sooner you can stop threating about the new house. A knock on the door alerted me to a visitor.
"Come in." I called, and Esme popped her head through the door.
"I brought the laptop. You can probably keep it in here, I'm really the only one who uses it, since the rest of the kids have their own, and I really don't use it often." She said, placing the black device on the desk.
"Thank you, Esme."
"My pleasure, sweetie. Do you need anything else?"
I shook my head.
"Okay then, I'll leave you to it. I'll be downstairs if you need me. Why don't you come down at around five to four so we can wait for the other kids together, and then I can introduce you?" She asked, and I nodded. In all honesty, teenagers were not my thing. Like, at all. In fact, they were one of the things I hated most in the world. A lot of adults had called me silly in the past. I mean, fair enough, a seventeen-year-old scared of teenagers is quite possibly the most ridiculous, hypocritical thing in the universe, but here I was, still terrified of them, despite the fact that the notion itself was unbelievably silly. Five of them – living with five of them, no less – did not sound remotely fun.
You'll be okay, Bella. You've done this before. You've lived with other kids before.
Easy for you to say, internal monologue, it's not like you're the one who has to deal with meeting them. I sighed, a big, huffing, brain-cleansing sigh. It didn't do much.
I flipped open the laptop, and pressed the switch that indicated it would make it switch on. After a few moments of waiting and tapping my fingers, the screen flashed on, and I pressed the space bar, relieved to see it didn't need a password. Pulling up the internet, I made my way to the email website, signing in with practiced speed.
I loved computers. Not because I was remotely interested in anything on them, but the soft rhythm of typing, and the gentle clicking was strangely soothing. I began typing out a new email.
To: Renee Dwyer
From: Bella Swan
Subject: New house
Hi Mum,
It's me again. I've just arrived at the new house. It seems okay so far, although I obviously wish I was with you. The house is really big, and I have my own bedroom. Apparently, there are 5 other kids here, although I haven't met them yet. I'm not sure if they are foster kids or adopted or what. I guess I'll see you next week? Say hi to Phil for me.
Love,
Bella.
Okay, so I knew the chances of her replying were slim to none, but a few years ago, when I was pulled from her care again, she told me to email often, and I've done so ever since. I think it makes her feel less guilty, if she knows I'm okay. Although, it depends on the hour if Renee feels guilty or not. I checked my inbox, seeing a new email pop up.
To: Bella Swan
From: Victoria Badeaux
Hey B,
Back with my granddad again. I give it 2 weeks until I get kicked out. Wanna place bets? Laurent reckons I can manage 3, but he's an optimist. Are you at your new placement yet? Any idea how long its supposed to last? Out of school at the mo, still not too sure what I did to get excluded. You know how it is. Come visit soon, James is desperate to meet you.
Vicky.
To: Victoria Badeaux
From: Bella Swan
Hi Vic.
I agree with Laurent, you can totally last 3. Weren't you there for like 6 months a couple of years ago? I take it he's sober again? Just arrived at new placement. Parents seem nice, and guess who has landed her own bedroom?! Little old me! Not sure how long I'll be here, until something goes wrong, I guess. From what the social worker said, I don't think I'll be back with Renee anytime soon. Think she's even more off the rails than usual. Yeah, I know how it is. Keep your chin up, it'll get better. In some town called Forks, which is a pretty hefty drive to Seattle, but I'll be there eventually. I take it you and James are going well then? Tell him I can't wait to meet him too.
B
I signed off after replying to Vic. We had ended up in the same foster home about five years ago, and we'd kept in touch ever since. She was a bitch a lot of the time, which made sense with the crap she was going through, but we got each other better than most people had ever understood either of us. I was a year older, but she always seemed older than me. Maybe because she had been in the system longer, or maybe that's just who she was.
I grabbed Wuthering Heights, glancing at the clock on the wall. All the rooms seemed to have clocks in this house, which I really liked. I decided I had enough time to just read some chapters, rather than just a favourite passage.
The time to go downstairs arrived quicker than I would have liked, but I placed my book down anyways, and moved down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen.
"Hi, Bella." Esme, who was sat at the kitchen island, sans Carlisle, smiled. She closed the glossy magazine she was reading. I noted it seemed to be about interior design, which pleased me, as I already knew that was a hobby of hers. I like people acting in predictable ways.
"Hello, Esme."
"Have you had a nice afternoon?" She asked, patting the stool next to her, indicating I should sit down. I complied.
"Yes, thank you. I did some reading."
"The kids are really excited to meet you, Alice in particular. I think she's about to start a campaign to make you her best friend." Esme laughed. I couldn't decide whether I wanted someone to want to be friends with me or not. Having someone who actually cared about you was obviously nice, but most friends eventually turned out to be rather unpleasant people. I had a lot of experience with that.
"What do they know about me?" I asked. I didn't really like anyone knowing my business, but particularly teenagers. Hopefully they hadn't shared much with their children.
"They know that you've had a very difficult past, that you are a bit different to most people and struggle with anxiety. They know you like reading, as well. We haven't really told them much, we didn't know what you would be okay with us sharing." I nodded. I didn't like them knowing that much - telling other kids you were anxious and different was basically the fast-track route to being beaten up - but I guess they needed to know. It could have been worse. They could have got the run down on my diagnoses, or the specifics of my 'very difficult past'.
A heavy door opening and slamming, followed by shuffling feet alerted me to people arriving.
Breathe, Bella.
I managed to suck in two deep, long breathes before a very short, very excited girl burst into the kitchen.
"Hello, Bella! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Alice, although I guess you might already know that. Did you have a nice journey here? Mum said you were coming from about an hour way. I hate travelling that far, it's such a pain sitting still, isn't it? Although worth it depending on where you are going. Do you want me to show you my bedroom?" The onslaught of words seemed to come out in a single breath, and she didn't pause until the very last question. I was very aware that my jaw was slightly slack, mouth dropped open, but I couldn't seem to close it.
"Slow down, Alice, or you'll scare the poor girl off." A deeper, chuckling voice said entering the room.
"Hi, you must be Bella. Sorry for the force of nature that is my sister." He smiled, a bright, dazzling smile.
"Nice to meet you both." I responded, noticing I was feeling an awful lot of big emotions.
Breathe, Bella.
"Come on, Bella! I just know you'll love my room. We can watch movies and hang out in there whenever you want." The black-haired girl began again, extending her hand to me. I glanced at Esme, who nodded encouragingly. I tentatively reached for the hand, and managed to hide the flinch and grimace that tried to escape as our fingers met.
She pulled me up the stairs, to a bedroom along the corridor from mine. Pushing the door open, I was met with a chaotic sight, an explosion of colours and textures wove in front of my eyes, and I tried to make sense of the chaos, but failed dramatically.
Escape. Need to get out of here. NOW!
The big emotions progressed to unbearable and I felt my skin crawling, my skull expanding within my brain.
I felt my mouth mumbling something to the girl, but my blurry ramblings were unlikely coherent. They made no sense to me, so I doubted they did to the girl.
I found myself stumbling into the bathroom that Esme had shown me, using the last of my functioning mind to click the door locked and flip the tap on, before I felt the last of my presence slip from me.
Sliding onto the floor I rocked and rocked, hands clutched to my ears, eyes tightly closed.
Sounds slipped from my open mouth, but the meanings of my noises were lost to me. My eyes soaked my face with fat tears, and I trembled so violently that it blended into the persistent rocking.
I was certainly still having thoughts, disjointed and confusing, but they were still there. But the thoughts paled against the all-consuming feelings that wrapped me in their cruel embrace.
The tears eventually slowed, but the rocking didn't pause for a long moment. I slipped my shaking hands from my ears, and pushed my hair back from my face, breathing in an unsteady breath.
As my thoughts became clearer, the dreaded exhaustion set in, and I moved to dowse my wrist I'm the cold tap water, sucking in a sharp breath as the iciness seeped through my skin.
I threw some water against my face, and dried it against a fluffy, white towel, swiping at my puffy under eyes.
Now was the time to face the music, but I really, really didn't want to.
Breathe, Bella.
Reactions to meltdowns were always hit or miss, and usually it was a miss. I was either treated like a literal toddler, or I was an attention-grabbing bitch who needed to get put in their place. There were very few people who actually treated me as a seventeen-year-old human being who deserved respect.
I opened the door slowly, silently praying that the members of the house hadn't noticed I'd just exploded in their bathroom, or they'd at least ignore it.
As my eyes met a concerned pair, I remember that me and God didn't seem to be on good terms. I don't remember provoking the big guy, but he never answers my prayers, so I'm presuming I've somehow managed to piss off an all-loving deity. Just my luck.
"Is everything okay, Bella?" Esme asked, her voice quiet, slow and tentatively.
I nodded. I may have regained the ability to stand up and make an attempt at forming coherent thoughts, but speaking was a skill that had not yet returned to me.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head. She sighed.
"Okay, sweetie. Do you want to be alone for a bit? Your bedroom maybe?" Yes! She wasn't forcing herself on me! Maybe this placement wouldn't be too bad. I nodded, probably more forcefully than I should have.
"I'll bring up some water. You go make yourself comfortable, Bella."
Curled up under the white duvet, hugging my longest companion, Jake, water from Esme on the bedside table, I startled at a knock on the door.
"Come in." I called, my voice quiet and hoarse. Alice appeared through the door, a strange look on her face. She closed the door behind her.
"I'm so sorry, Bella. Jazzy says I didn't do anything wrong, but I just feel so guilty. Mum said I shouldn't disturb you because you were feeling upset, but I really needed to apologise. Please don't hate me."
Wait. Did she think that she was the one who messed up? She wasn't the one who couldn't deal with the sort of things other people dealt with every day! Hell, there wasn't even a proper reason for the meltdown. Just a culmination of normal, everyday things, that normal people wouldn't even bat an eyelash at. Okay, maybe moving to a new foster home wasn't the sort of thing most people did every day, but if I had to be such a freak that I couldn't have a normal family, I should be able to deal with it. But I hadn't. I never dealt with it like a normal human.
"Don't worry, Alice. You certainly don't need to feel guilty, and I certainly don't hate you. I'm sorry I made you sad." Her jaw seemed to drop for a moment, before I saw her eyes light up in a curious manner.
"Thank you, Bella! I knew we were going to be best friends!" She beamed. I didn't know how the few sentences I had said had led her to believe we were certifiable besties. But I didn't say that to her. One, because that would have been very rude. I might be socially inept, but I wasn't that socially inept. Two, because she was suddenly flinging herself at me.
She clutched me in a surprisingly strong hug for such a slight human, before releasing me.
"I'll leave you alone now, Jasper said I shouldn't disturb you for too long. Bye, Bella!" She said, flying out of the room and slamming the door closed behind her. I would have nodded in response, but I wasn't in the same place as her now. I wasn't in the same place as anyone anymore.
Another blow hit my thighs. This was his favourite location for bruises. I never wore anything shorter than jeans, so the evidence never showed.
I shivered; goose bumps crawled my arms.
"Quiet." He spoke. I bit my lip to stop the shrieks, that awful metallic taste filling my mouth.
My breathes became shallow.
Two more hits descended on my body before he let up.
"Apologise."
"I'm sorry." I whispered, my voice wavering through the pain.
"Good. You are forgiven, my Isabella." I braced myself, all too familiar with what was coming.
He grasped my wrist, hard, pulling me upstairs to my bedroom. I closed my eyes when I heard him unzip.
The panic attack was short. Years of shitty counselling had led to the discovery of the odd effective technique, and I used my breath to push away the flashback and that awful feeling that the world was closing in on me.
Eventually, I surfaced, and came to the conclusion that no-one must have realised that I was panicking. I got the impression that if Esme thought something was wrong, she would just burst in and try to fix it. Unfortunately for her, she wouldn't be able to do that with me.
I picked up my duvet off the floor – I must have pushed it off some point during the panic attack – and pulled it over me, trying to fall into a vague sense of okay-ness. I needed to be fine at dinner. Meltdowns or panic attacks at the dinner table are not remotely polite. At all.
A soft knock at the door made me remove myself from the burrow I had made of my duvet.
Esme stuck her head in, and seeing my tear-stained face, frowned, before her face morphed into that expression of pitying sympathy.
"Is everything okay, Bella? Are you feeling any better?"
I nodded.
"Would you like to come and help me make your dinner now? Its okay if you don't feel up to it, I just want to get your food right." The sympathy on her face intensified. I didn't like it.
"Can I just use the bathroom? Then I'll come downstairs."
"Of course, sweetie. You take your time." She said, and I followed her out of the bedroom, before slipping into the bathroom and washing my face again. It had reached that point of painful rawness that I associated with trying to hide the fact that you cried as a hobby. The last time I had seen Victoria in person, she had helped me find some cheap, dollar-store concealer. I loved it, and it hid the puffy skin and red, raw face better than any scrubbing ever could. Marcus had taken the half-full tube from me. Makeup was evil, apparently. As bad in his books as lying.
As I came out of the bathroom, the boy I had met before – Edward – came into my line of vision. He stood outside of the bedroom I was staying in, wringing his hands. He was tall and slight, a shock of messy auburn hair – that could only be described as sex hair – sat against the pale skin of his head. I stood still, closed the door gently and observed him. What was he doing hovering outside of my bedroom door?
I cleared my throat. He spun around quickly, eyes wide, and pushed his hands through his already messy hair. He looked like a mischievous toddler who had just realised they had just been caught getting up to no good.
"Hey." He blurted out. Strange.
"Hi." I replied. "Are you okay?"
"Um, great, thanks. And you?" He looked rather flustered.
"I'm good, thank you." I responded. We stood still, staring at each other for a moment. This was incredibly bizarre. After what could have easily been minutes or seconds, I cleared my throat again.
"I'm going to go downstairs and help with dinner, if that's okay?"
"Er, yeah, of course!" Despite the curious awkwardness pouring from his cells, he curled his mouth up into a beautiful, crooked smile, and I felt my heart stutter. God, this was a boy who must have broken millions of hearts.
"Bye, then." I smiled, and I walked past him, heading for the stairs.
"Hey, Bella, wait!" He suddenly said, and I turned around to look back in his direction. What could he possibly want?
"I just wanted to let you know I'm – we – are really happy to have you here." The crooked grin was back. As was the running his hands through his hair.
"Thanks." It came out as a whisper, which was bizarre, but I didn't have time to dwell on that, I needed to get downstairs, before Esme got annoyed. I nodded, and turned around, quickly rushing down the flight of stairs.
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