*Summary: Based on the movie by the same name. Seven lives tied together by a single tragedy. A story full of angst, and love, and heartache, and hope. It's Life Itself...

AH, B/E, R/E, A/J. Rated M for language, violence, and other adult content.

*A HUGE thank you to my pre-reader/editor/FB collage maker CoppertopJ! You have helped me in more ways than you can possibly know.

*Not wanting to give away too much of the plot, this story does come with a non-descriptive Trigger Warning. This will be my only warning, so if you have any triggers whatsoever, please PM me to see if this is a story you can handle. Thank you!

*No copyright infringement intended.

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Chapter 1 – Bella

Life is painful.

When things don't go our way, some of us fall to our knees and beg for help. Others curse the sky. Some succumb to it or hide away until the pain passes. Others face it head on and refuse to let it break them.

In life we love and we love hard, even when it hurts, and then we continue to love because without it we have nothing. We hope for a happy ending, but really, every ending, good or bad, is just another beginning…

Isabella Swan knew a thing or two about endings and not so much about love. Her very life had begun as her mother's life came to an end. She was born from death, and death seemed to follow her wherever she went.

At just six-months-old, Bella suffered another huge death in the family that would shape her entire world in ways she couldn't yet comprehend. Like the death of her mother, she was far too young to remember this loss, but its impact on her left the deepest hole – her father's suicide.

Growing up thinking her dad would have rather died than take care of her, Bella became a cynical young girl. And with each subsequent loss she suffered, her cynicism only solidified.

At five-years-old, her grandmother – the only maternal figure she had ever known – lost her long battle with cancer.

At seven, they had to put down her ever faithful companion, Franky; the dog that had been more than a dog to her, he was her best friend.

At ten, her beloved teacher abruptly collapsed from a brain aneurysm, right there in the middle of a lesson. As all the kids screamed and panicked; Bella, who had come to expect those around her to die, hardly flinched.

"So… do you want to talk about what happened today?" her grandfather, Charlie, asked her when she got home from school that day.

"What happened?" Bella asked emotionlessly.

"Mrs. Gilbert passed away," he said slowly, knowing all too well that Bella was closing herself off again. "You really liked her, didn't you?"

Bella shrugged, but kept her attention on her homework in front of her.

This avoidance tactic was not lost on Charlie. He had seen it many times in her before, and no amount of therapy seemed to be helping.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do that now. The school said all assignments are postponed until further notice."

"But if I do it now, I don't have to worry about it later," she replied evenly.

"Bella, look at me," he demanded gently yet firmly. She complied, but the emptiness in her eyes proved she still wasn't really paying attention. Regardless, Charlie felt the need to try to reach her. "Remember what Dr. Kebi said to you last month at therapy? It's okay to be sad."

"I remember, Pop," she said automatically, as if she was pre-programmed with that response.

Grandpa Charlie's mustache twitched with all the words he wanted to say to his broken granddaughter, but he honestly didn't know where to start. She had lost so much; they both had, and they were both still grieving. The difference between the fifty-something-year-old man and the ten-year-old little girl, however, was astronomical. He had a full life of joy and love, and only began his journey of loss in his much later years. In his darkest hours, he had beautiful memories to cling to, whereas little Bella had only ever known the pain of absence.

His heart ached for her, but what could he do? Charlie had always been a man of few words; his wife was the mouthpiece for the pair. Without her, he was often left speechless or stumbling to find his focus. What did he know of raising a little girl anyway? His only child, his son, grew up while he was often away for work. For an older man who knew virtually nothing about children, he did the best he could, and his best, was just to love that little girl with everything he had in him.

"Pop?" she asked, finally engaging in the conversation. "Are you going to die too?"

He stared at her for a brief moment, not exactly sure how to answer. He knew whatever he said next would sure to leave an impact, so he needed to choose his words carefully.

"Yeah, I will," he told her honestly. "The truth is, I'll probably die sooner than you're ready for. But I will promise you this – I'm going to do whatever possible to make sure I see you through your childhood. I'm working on lowering my cholesterol, and I'm exercising more. I'm also going to regular health checkups, so for the time being, I'm here for you."

"What will happen to me if you do die soon?" she questioned; her eyes full of concerned wonder. Pop was her only family left, and because of that, her insecurities drowned out any twinge of optimism she could conjure.

With a heavy sigh, Charlie came to sit next to her at the table. He brushed a long brunette curl from out of her face before answering. "I'm going to make damn sure you're always taken care of, sweetheart. My friends, the Clearwater's, have offered to be your guardians should anything happen to me. You know them, right? They're good, decent people."

Bella nodded. "But would I have to share a room with Leah? It always smells like wet dogs in there."

Charlie smiled. "Well, let's hope we never have to worry about that. I'm healthy as a horse, Bells. I'm going to be around for a good while yet."

Despite her lack of confidence, thankfully, he was able to follow through with that goal. However, as Bella grew from a cynical little girl into an angry and often explosive young adult that terrified most people, Charlie felt like he already lost her…

"Where are you going?" he asked the now twenty-one-year old as he approached her in her bedroom. Her bedroom, which was the very same room her lamented father had grown up in – a fact that had always comforted her as much as it enraged her.

"Out," she said vaguely while she encircled her eyes with heavy black makeup. At that hour, she should have been changing into PJs instead, but her bare midriff and tight leather pants only made her grandfather that much more concerned.

Of course, the evening departure was nothing new for her; Bella rarely stayed home anymore. With it being her twenty-first birthday, however, Charlie felt the need to check in on her and reiterate his concerns for her wellbeing.

"Are those cigarettes?" he asked when he watched her grab a box from her nightstand drawer and set it out on her dresser besides her keys.

"If that's what they look like then that's what they are," she said, unconcerned.

"You're not even going to try to hide them from me?" he questioned with a level of shock.

"Aren't we both better than that?" she retorted like a smartass.

"Those things will kill you," he grumbled, his voice raspy from far too many years of his own smoking. He didn't want to be a hypocrite, but he couldn't help but want better for her.

"Well, if they do, then I won't be a burden to you anymore," she mumbled as a response.

"Oh honey, you've never been a burden to me," he tried assuring her.

"Well, either way, I've almost saved enough money to move out and be out of your hair. Then you won't have to stay up worrying about me every night."

"I like worrying about you. It's kept me alive this long," he countered.

"Then I guess you'll just have to worry about me from afar," she said distractedly as she gathered the things she needed to leave.

"Please just tell me you'll be home by midnight?" he asked without any real hope.

"I could, but I don't want to lie to you," she answered curtly.

"Oh, please lie to me. I'll be asleep on the couch by nine thirty anyway."

She huffed. "Fine, I'll be home by midnight."

She attempted to bolt out, but Charlie called her back.

"Bells?"

Without him even having to voice it, she knew what he wanted. As much as she was trying to keep her hardened façade, she would always have a soft spot for her Pops. She smiled, only slightly, and quickly returned to kiss him on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo," he told her.

"Thanks, Pop," she replied, and then, like countless times before, the two held up make-believe glasses, and feigned a cheers.

"Stay safe," he urged gently.

"I always do," she affirmed, before giving him a parting wink and hurrying out the door.

Bella never made real connections with people. It was a choice she lived by and had no plans on ever changing. But one thing she did cherish, was her band.

For the most part, they only played in small darkened venues where the alcohol ran like water and the drugs were passed around just as easily. The music they played was deafeningly loud and made the crowd jump to the beat, or just jump to the beat inside their own drunken heads. Admittedly, they weren't very good, and Bella screamed more than she sang, but it was a total and utter release. When she was on stage, she didn't have to think, and when she was able to truly let go like that, she was free…

…

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***A/N: Will meeting a certain persistent stranger help Bella find value in life, or will she dig her heels in and refuse to take the chance?

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