Growing up wasn't easy.

When I was born I was beautiful, peachy faced little boy with little to no brown hair sprouting from the top of my head. My mother never wanted to put me down, being her only child she was protective and so very loving. She'd look at me with the softest eyes and press the most delicate of kisses against my skin. Treating me like a perfect china doll. The perfect son she had always wanted. A son she could raise as a true gentleman.

My father Charlie was no different. He got the son he's been waiting for since he came into his twenties and my mother and him got married. They'd been trying for a long time to have a child, and on their first baby, they got a boy. A bouncing happy baby boy. They could play catch, go fishing like him and his own father used to do. They could play football, and watch games, he could have his first drink with his dad in a pub when he turned eighteen. So many endless possibilities.

All through school was a pleasant time, meeting people, playing, learning, getting along with everyone there was. There wasn't a single person I didn't befriend. Out there in Arizona, everyone was friendly. Everyone was welcoming. The parties I went to growing up were the best. There was lots of presents, cake, singing, dancing, games. It was the perfect childhood growing up. I even joined a football club in primary school, I looked a bit androgynous compared to all the other boys but I played just as good. Better. I never felt out of place of any different. But as I got older the name calling started.

I got teased.

Picked on.

Singled out.

Tripped.

Made fun of.

But I didn't know why. I had always been one of the guys, a friend to all of them, so I was confused why it was happening. Even my Mother was starting to act differently with me.

When I turned thirteen it became apparent that I was growing in places that I shouldn't have been growing. And things were accentuation when they shouldn't have. I started to wear more baggy clothes and started to get ashamed of my body. Tending to hide away in my room instead of going to games. To choose TV instead of family events. My mother couldn't handle what was happening and became violent, mostly towards my father but I witnessed the brunt of it. He was hit and yelled at for doing this to her. To give her a 'freak' as a child. She threatened to cheat and leave, and it turned out she had been. With a baseball player named Phil.

It wasn't pleasant.

I will never understand how they carried on. The fights got worse, it was obviously because of me. I became even more of a recluse, and for me, at such a young age it was never good. Rene wasn't happy, she often went out, dad and I knew where we just never spoke of it. I could see the pain in his eyes but also the love for that despicable woman.

I grew to hate her.

For two years that went on until I was fifteen. Dad endured it all for my sake, to keep giving me a happy life with all the friends I had. I didn't have any friends by that point, I wasn't happy. And one day I was glad he reached a breaking point and just took me and left. He said goodbye to my mother, packed all of our stuff in the back of his car and we left without another word.

My dad hated flying so we drove there. It took us a couple of days, sleeping in the car, with take-out for dinner. But I didn't mind. After nearly two days of driving, we finally reached our destination.

We went to stay in the town where his own parents grew up. Forks, Washington. A small place with a just as small population of 3,175 people. It was a fairly decent place to live, to say the least. He started to get into policing almost immediately, with his dad also being on the force before he died he had a good name and learned quick, soon building him up the ranks. There was one high school 'Forks high', a police station, lodges, town hall, a shopping Centre well barely, fishing stations, surfing and bike shops, hunting lodges, basically a man like my father's dream come true.

He got us a place on the edge of Forks, a modest two-story house, a double garage, With enough space for his car and police cruiser. I had my own bathroom in my room with a balcony extended with a beautiful view of the forest that seemed to go on forever. I spent many nights looking out at the tall dense trees, wondering what secrets were hidden beneath them, werewolves, vampires, a secret cult, many ludicrous thoughts. I wrote them all down in my journal with little depictions. It was a fun hobby of mine. Charlie also had his own living space, his own workshop next to the garage as well as a tooling shed and a stockpile next to it of firewood, for some reason he loved chopping it all up. Called it 'stress relief'. We'll never run out of it. He had enough room for his dad's boat and fishing supplies. It was like we had lived there our whole lives. We fit right in. He was never one for the house I grew up in. All fancy equipment he could never quite get to work. The most he could do was put the TV on the sports channel and use the phone to order a pizza. It was mainly my mum that organised things and cooked for us. She was more of a handyman than he was.

Amongst all of my dad's bits, he even managed to get me a car, for when I was older of course. He thought it would be a nice project for the both of us. He was right. We'd spend every weekend taking it apart and fixing it up. Making it look brand new. Building my excitement for when I could get my license and actually drive it.

I started school at the beginning of the school year after the summer of me and him moving in.

I introduced myself as Bella Swan, the new girl, told them about my dad and a bit about myself. I never mentioned my mother or where I moved from and managed to make some decent friends. No one ever uh noticed my disfigurement. Or if they did it was never brought up. I also met a group of boys, they lived on the reservation and I grew up very close with one of them Called Jacob Black. He had long hair that I thought was silly, a cheeky grin that would make all the girls from school, hearts melt and a bad boy bike and build. The boys were jealous, especially when he hit seventeen and started filling in.

It was amusing to me. This sarcastic little boy I knew was growing up to be a rock of a man.

I was also growing up fairly quick myself. My breasts filled in, I gained curves, my hair got even longer and silkier and my skin became poreless.

It turned out my dad didn't need to have a son, he was just as happy having me as a daughter, we still went fishing, he taught me to hunt, and I can even fix engines and play football.

He always taught me that I'm the best of both worlds. I don't need anyone's approval to be me and that I'm amazing just the way I am.

It was just me and my dad. We made a great team, even if he did find it difficult to raise a teenage daughter all by himself. I never complained but he also taught me to be self-sufficient as well as everything I needed to know and I taught him in return how to cook basic things. Granted it took a while for them to sink into his head but he got the hang of it. With the help of Billy Black, Jacobs dad, he started to come out of his shell a bit more. I'm glad he has friends, back in Arizona it always looked like he was alone.

It would get to my birthdays and holidays and I'd feel a twinge of sadness that I didn't have my mother, but was soon replaced with this burning fire of hatred, I could tell how sad my father was sometimes, and it was all because of that woman. I hope he finds someone eventually. He deserves it for all he's endured and done for me.

With him and my friends I felt like nothing was against me and I had a place I could call home.