A/N: I am the actual author of this story. A friend of mine posted this for me, so if you see a similar one out there, I promise you it's the same one and I know she has it there.

WARNING – THIS STORY IS RATED M FOR A REASON. IT ISN'T LEMONY, JUST DARK.

I do not own Twilight. Oh the things I could do to Edward if I did... :)

I woke up screaming. I knew the time without having to look at the clock. It would be exactly 2:09, the same as it was every night. Pete came in, with Ali following. They both sat on the bed and hugged me. My mother had warned them about my nightmares, it's why they didn't look surprised.

My aunt and uncle were really nice. My aunt was slender, tall and quite pretty. My uncle was tall and muscular, with a rugged face that lit up when he smiled. They lived in a high class neighbourhood, they each had a car, and had bought me my own car, since I planned on living with them for the next few years. They had a pool in the backyard, and a house that was so large I frequently got lost. They had no children of their own, but loved me like their own. I had been here three days. This was my third night waking them up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I murmured through the tears.

"Don't worry about it." Ali said kissing my hair. "We can always try to understand, no matter what."

"You won't be saying that after a few months of being woken up at two every morning." I informed them.

"Hey, are you like an alarm clock that way? Can I reset your timer? I want around six every morning..." Pete started, making me almost smile. I would fall asleep again within the hour, and be alright for the rest of the night. They went back to bed and I did exactly the same thing. In the morning they looked tired.

"I'm moving my room so I can sleep in the basement." I told them. "That way I won't wake you." Pete and Ali began to protest but I stopped them. "Plus I can go swimming every night and not trail water all the way through the house back to my room."

The pool was accessible directly through the basement. It worked out perfectly for me and it let them sleep. I got up and hugged them hard.

"Please?" I asked. They both felt uncomfortable moving me, but they agreed. I looked at the clock behind Pete.

"Crap. I'm going to be late." I shovelled my cereal down my throat and ran to have a shower. While in the shower I brushed my teeth, using the warm water to rinse my mouth out, and washed my hair and body of the sweat I had accumulated from the nightmare. I got out and got dressed very quickly. A simple black shirt with black pedal pushers, black sneakers and no makeup. I wasn't a Goth. I just liked black. I used to wear bright colours, but they attracted too much attention. Not anymore. Or ever again. I calmly did my hair into a quick French braid and grabbed my bag.

I drove to the school way over the speed limit. I wasn't late anymore. In fact I had ten minutes to spare. I grabbed my iPod and put one earphone in. Beethoven's third symphony rang through the earphone, calming me down. I sat in the car, waiting for the bell to ring. I knew where all of my classes were. I had been shown a map of the school. With a photographic memory it was very easy to learn things like locations on a map. I decided to get there relatively early, so I got out of the car, locking the doors and walked to where the class was. I found it easily. There were six other students in the classroom already. Crap. People who'd want to talk to me. I got the huge stack of books from the teacher. It was English, my favourite subject, so I didn't really mind.

"Isabella?"

"Bella, please." I told him.

"Bella, then. Would you please make sure that you bring the textbook to class every day? The others are independent reading novels, so they are not necessary."

"Okay. Thanks Mr. Mason." I sat down in the seat he pointed to and sorted through the books, aware of the other students looking at me. Bronte, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Austen – I'd read them all. I owned them all. I dumped them into my bag and slumped forward onto my desk. The students stopped talking and I knew what they were about to do. Three, I counted in my head, two, one...."

"Hello. Are you a transfer student here?" one of them asked. I sat back up looking at the girl. She had brown curly hair, a petite figure and wore very revealing clothes.

"Yeah. I just moved here from Phoenix." I answered. I placed my iPod on the table and searched through the random selection of songs. I found one of Chopin's Nocturnes and played that.

"My name is Jessica." The girl came up and offered me her hand. I shook it gently.

"Bella."

"These are my friends, Lauren," A blonde, with a sour expression under her fake smile. She was pretty, but she could look better if she actually smiled. "Angela," A brunette, with very dark eyes. She had a genuine smile on and was dressed much more conservatively than the other two. "Tyler." A boy with very good looks, but wandering eyes, looked at me. Every inch of me. I pulled the collar of my shirt up, towards my neck, to stop his eyes from straying. "Mike," he was blonde, but much nicer. His eyes were on my iPod reading the song title. He looked up at me and smiled, a nice smile. "And Ben." He was short, skinny, but athletic and he was desperately trying to get a spoon to stick on his nose. I stood and went over to him. I took the spoon, breathed on it, letting moisture stick to it, then placed it on his nose, where it stayed.

"Yes!" he said excitedly. I almost smiled, letting the corners of my mouth pull up a little. I sat back down. The others rolled their eyes as he showed the other students coming in. The crowd broke away from my desk as soon as the bell rung. I put my iPod on pause and listened to the teacher. He was talking about my favourite scene from Romeo and Juliet.

"Bella?" he asked suddenly. I looked up at him.

"Sir?"

"In your school back in Phoenix, did you have to memorise any of the scenes?"

"Sir, we each got assigned a character and had to memorise their entire part, throughout the play."

"Really?" he asked. I could feel angry glares of people shaking their heads. They didn't want to do that.

"But it was an English/Drama class. I heard that the English classes here are superior in the ways that they actually help to digest the plays and their unobvious meanings." I blurted out. The teacher looked flattered. I could play people easily when I chose.

"What part did you memorise?" he asked curiously. I ducked my head.

"Romeo." I muttered. He didn't hear. "Romeo." I said louder. The teacher raised his eyebrows.

"His entire part?"

"Yes."

"Act II, any lines." He quizzed.

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady, O, it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?

Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek." I finished in a whisper. The teacher looked appraisingly at me and then continued with the lesson. I hadn't looked up from my desk since I started. I could feel a blush coming and fought it back. Some students were impressed, most thought I was showing off. Two girls who sat only a few chairs in front of me were looking curiously at me. Trying to decide what I was. They would never learn. Not the whole story anyway. No one here would. I'd had enough stares back home.

I slipped my earphone back in and resumed the Nocturne. The teacher asked a question and I put my hand to my forehead, wiping away a stray hair.

"Bella." He said, looking at me expectantly. Crap.

"Um, could you repeat the question please?"

"What is the common factor in Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet and Midsummer Night's Dream?"

"Um, there are a few. One of the more touched upon subjects, is that Shakespeare's treatment of female characters is misogynistic." I shut up. I don't even think the teacher knew what I was talking about. But he nodded and drew upon my example for the rest of the lesson. I lay my head on my arms, listening to the Nocturnes I had, trying to ignore the stares. By the end of the class, I was asleep. Thanks to my continually restless nights I had very little stamina during the day. My arm being shook woke me.

"Bella?" it was a high soprano voice. "My name is Alice. You are going to be very late for your next class. None of the idiots in the class wanted to talk to you after your performance, so they left you to sleep." She frowned. I stood up quickly, grabbing my bag and thanking her.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

"Trigonometry." I sighed. She smiled.

"I hate it too. It's where I'm going. If we run we'll make it." She told me. So we ran, and we made it, only just. Jessica was in this class too, scowling at Alice, for waking me. I picked up that heavy textbook and went to sit beside Alice this time. I looked at her pixie-like hair, her incredibly beautiful, but pale face, and her black eyes. Her sense of style left nothing to be imagined. They were unusual clothing pieces, but designer, expensive, figure flattering and stunning on her. Alice looked at me with interest too, taking in my simple clothing, my expressionless face and my eyes.

"Mr. Cullen!" the teacher yelled. I looked up to see an attractive boy kissing a girl in the doorway of the class. The girl walked off and he sat down at the side. He had pale skin, just like Alice, moved with the same grace, had the same expensive clothes, and the same black eyes.

"I know what you're thinking 'Oh my gosh he's gorgeous' right?" Alice asked rolling her eyes. I looked confusedly at her.

"Um, actually I was wondering if you two were related." I said. Her expression lightened.

"We are, yes. He's my idiot brother, Edward. I have another brother, an almost sister and a boyfriend too."

"Crowded." I said, my mouth turning up into my almost smile. She saw the weak smile and beamed back.

"You have no idea." The teacher started the lesson then he wrote four complex formulas on the board. I stared at them for a few minutes, then dropped my eyes, flipping through my textbook.

"Aren't you going to write them down?" Alice said, pointing at the formulas. I sighed.

"Photographic memory. It's just what to do with the formulas I don't get."

"Photographic memory? Really." She snatched my textbook away from me. "Page seventeen. The picture is of?"

"An elephant, with angle measurements on the see saw it is standing on. Um, seventeen and twenty four, I believe." She flipped back to the page and looked.

"So close. It was seventeen and forty two. But wow. That is pretty incredible." She whispered. I shrugged.

"It's just something else for people to make fun of." I whispered. The rest of the class we didn't talk. As the class came to an end, Edward got up and walked over to Jessica. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her gently. He whispered something that made her giggle and then he led her out of the room. Oh. He was one of those guys. The ones who had several girls trailing after them, while they enjoyed playing with all of them.

I had one more class before lunch; Spanish. There was no need to tell them that I spoke four languages. I had a lot of time suddenly thrust upon me a few years back. I tried to occupy my mind in the spare time, so that I wouldn't think about the event. I learned French, Spanish, Greek and Italian. The European languages were very easy to learn. Once you had the basics of one, you pretty much knew the rest.

Alice's almost sister Rosalie was in my Spanish class. She was outstandingly beautiful, with blonde wavy hair and a swimsuit model's figure. She also looked at me with the same, intense probing eyes. At the end of Spanish I followed her to the lunch room. I grabbed a plate of fries and a coke, sitting down at her table, because she pulled me there. Edward sat across from me. At least his eyes didn't wander like Tyler's. Although, judging by his earlier actions, they probably had, just when I wasn't looking.

"Hello." he said holding out his hand. He had a musical voice.

"Hi." I said, looking back down at the fries, ignoring his hand. Just then, another girl, pretty, wearing skimpy clothing, showed up, kissing him. In that moment Alice arrived, holding hands with another cute boy, who had the same pale, beautiful features as the others.

"This is Rosalie's brother, my boyfriend, Jasper." He nodded at me. I felt calm, whereas before, I had felt nothing, except slight nervousness. Jasper held out his hand and I shook it.

"Jazz."

"Bella." They sat, stealing a few fries from my plate. They didn't eat, none of them did, but they played hockey, with the fries as sticks and a dime as a puck. Edward was staring at me; his latest bimbo had left. A large boy, who looked more like an adult than a teenager; muscular body, deep voice and curly black hair, introduced himself as Emmett and then he sat on the bench, nestling Rosalie in his arms. All of them were waiting for me to speak. I didn't speak, unless spoken to.

"Bella?"

I looked up, to see Alice looking at me intently, her eyes searching again.

"How do you like it here? California is a little different to Phoenix isn't it?" she asked. I nodded.

"At least it's still sunny. And I kind of like the school, so far. Very easy layout."

"One glance at the map?" she asked jokingly. I nodded, smiling my almost smile again. I finished the fries quickly, watching the ongoing hockey game, between Emmett and Jasper. I then excused myself and went to find somewhere quiet, to sleep. I found an empty stairwell and sat on the windowsill, leaning on the warm glass. I fell swiftly asleep, while evaluating myself in my head;

I was an antisocial freak, with some dark skeletons in my closet, who knew four languages, was very good at English, science, and sports that didn't require hand-eye coordination. I could also dance, sing, act, draw and write poetry. But I hadn't done those since the event.

The event. I still called it that. It wasn't an event. It was a traumatic memory that made me lose my father, Charlie. And it was all because of me.