Disclaimer: This story deals with material that may not suitable for everyone. It contains coarse language, drug use, adult themes and a host of other things. I'd also like to point out that if you hold the idealist and innocent relationship between Edward and Bella in high regard this story isn't for you. You have been warned.

Kudos to Beckyboobearbum for encouraging me to put pen to paper and write this. Without her, it'd be bumping around in my head and bubbling at the surface. Missy, I just hope you're there to hold my hand along the way lol.

I don't own these characters, no infringement intention. I do, however, own the plot.

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Being brought up as the daughter of the chief of police you'd of thought my choice of career would have been something law abiding. You'd of also thought I'd of been on the straight and narrow, an upstanding citizen, if you will. That just goes to show you exactly how much bullshit preconception, idealist views and pre-planned futures really are.

Standing at the fork in the imaginary road of my life, kicking at the dusty stones at my feet, I decided to go left when every motherfucking sign, arrow and voice was pointing and screaming for me to take the right. I'd followed the goddamn sign posts every day of my life for the last 21 years, and I was bored to fucking death of how monotonous my life had gotten. There is only so many times you can 'be a good girl' and 'do the right thing' before your brain may as well shrivel up like a sun ripened tomato and you ask to be plugged into the machine that sucks at life replacing it with something equally shit and unfulfilling. Least if they suck the life out of you they suck the emotion out of life too, with no emotion there is no pain, and I'd of given my left arm to have that taken away forever.

If one of those machines existed, I'd of asked years ago to participate. In fact, you'd of probably found me, lying on the wet floor in the pouring rain, on the steps outside of the building holding the tests, kicking my feet and causing a scene, begging for the chance to be their guinea pig. They'd of been warning me about the dangers, but you know, that'd of been cool, anything, and I mean anything, would have been more exciting than what I called life. I wasn't living; I was just about existing, and come on, who wants that?

No, I didn't think so.

Personally, I think it was always inevitable that I was going to fall off the track; I'm just surprised it took as long as it did. After all, with parents like mine, I was never gonna be the one that everyone was jealous of, the one who women hated for being the lucky bitch with the perfect family and husband who doted on my every word.

A 'Stepford Wives' life just wasn't on my cards. Seriously, there was no way in hell I was gonna be sat at the kitchen table, waiting for some motherfucker to come home expecting to find me, dressed to the nines, immaculate hair and makeup, a smile on my face, his dinner on the table, the expectation of me waiting for him in our bed, whilst he lays his dirty fingers over my body, getting his jollies, as I lie there wishing that my life wasn't such a fucking joke. No chance.

FUCK THAT SHIT TO HELL.

My parents hadn't spoken in years, in fact, I'd put money on my father not speaking a word to my mother from the day she told him that she was pregnant, and unsure if I was his. Why they never did a paternity test is beyond me, he could have been rid of the pair of us, wiped his hands clean and gotten on with his life. When I think about it though, small town like Forks, that shit would have spread quicker than cold hard butter on steaming hot toast; no it was just kept between the three of us. Nice birthday present that was, overhearing an argument about me being a bastard child; and you wonder why I'm fucked up. There's your answer.

That was the day I stopped calling my parents mom and dad, that's was the day they became Renee and Charlie, that was also the day I decided that I didn't need anyone in my life other than myself, what's the point of depending on other people when they just let you the fuck down, just asking for heartbreak, and I can do without that shit; unnecessary pain, I have enough of that without having to bring it on myself for no reason.

All that being said I'm guessing that my warped views on how my life should have panned out were what helped me make the choices on how things really did play out for the future. Refusing to become one of them, you know, the pretty, I've got the whole of the moon on a fucking stick, providing I sit up and beg like a dog when barked at, I decided that I'd make money by doing what would be expected from me for free. I also decided that I'd do all that whilst smacked outta my tits on the cheapest drugs I could lay my hands on. That way, not only would I get paid for something that should be essentially free, I'd be doing it flying higher than the clouds in the dark dreary sky above.

Yeah that's right. Not only was I a drug addict, I was also the local whore.

Pleased to meet you.

I'm guessing that you weren't put off by the authors notes at the top if you've got this far, thank you for giving this a chance.

Please take the time to let me know what you think, constructive criticism is always welcomed. Oh and if you think this is your kinda thing and you're a beta looking for a new story, let me know, I'm on the look out.

Much love until next time

Pixie Tinks x