Lunch hour at school was the only time she truly had to herself. Alienated from the other students, she sat alone at a table on the far side of the cafeteria. Her bag sat in the center of the table, her work carefully organized inside of it. Her sketch pad rested on top of her lap, its back slanted against the table. She let her hand draw mindlessly across the blank sheet, making soft lines and jagged edges with her pencil.

Drawing was an outlet to her. She was good at it, though she never admitted it. Bella only ever drew things that she saw; things that were. Today, her drawing was of her view of other students in the cafeteria. Nothing special. Just like her.

Having gotten her schedule down pat, she checked her watch five minutes before the lunch bell was to ring, as she did every day. And just like every day, she stuffed her pencil and her sketch pad in her bag, pulling it over her shoulder as she stood and made her way out of the cafeteria and down to her locker.

The hallways were deserted, as they always were at this time. Her footsteps resounded noisily across the empty floors, stopping when she made it to her locker.

When she was done putting away her back pack and re-locking her locker, she made her way to the school's entrance.

P.E. and her elective were the last classes of the day for her. Useless classes; classes that were a privilege to have. A privilege, quite literally, she could not afford.

There would be a message on the answering machine tonight -as there always was when she got home- from the school, explaining her truentcies and requesting a note from her parents in the morning.

They never got one, as the office workers new they wouldn't. They called simply because protocol demanded that they do. Bella knew very well that she could be suspended, or even expelled for the amount of truentcies she had built up over the years. Nearly every single day of the school year she ditched the last two classes of the day. Every student, teacher, and faculty member knew that.

And despite her truant tendencies, she was still first choice as class valedictorian.

Delinquent she might have been, dumb she was not.

Bella hunched into her thin jacket, bowing her head, attempting to keep warm despite the drizzle that continued to poor down from the sky.

She was making her way down to the bus stop, as she always did. She would hop on the bus, taking a one way down to Port Angeles, where she would walk to the factory of her employer, and work throughout the rest of the night.

Was it illegal for a girl her age to be working in a factory? Bella was sure it might have been, but she was eighteen. Let them say what they wanted, this job paid the bills.

And her boss was more than a boss to her. More than a boss to all of his employees. This job could be described as dangerous, and it required a close knit work relationship between everyone. Bella was of no exception. In fact, all of her fellow workers, including her boss, looked out for her more than others, simply because she was the youngest.

The factory dealt with big machinery, creating parts for other machines throughout the country. Bella had taken classes before at her high school in auto mechanics, and signed up for classes on line so that she could get this job. She left work every night tired, hungry, and filthy, but it paid for her house, and supported her family. It was worth the sacrifices to her.

The bus ride down to Port Angeles was quiet and slow. She leaned her head against the chilled window, watching the rain coming down in torrents outside.

Bella would have to make sure she kept the heater on tonight for her mother. Renee would undoubtedly be cold, and Bella didn't like it when her mother was uncomfortable in the slightest.

Renee was all Bella had. Her father, Charlie Swan, was killed years ago in a heist involving two gunmen at the local CVS Pharmacy.

Tragic. And Bella had been there to witness the entire ordeal.

Getting off at her stop, Bella walked through puddles in her scuffed and torn converse shoes, hurrying toward the factory.

Mr. Peterson, her boss, was already there, waiting for her when she walked into the front office to clock in.

"Swan," he greeted her, expecting her silent nod in response. "Gil and Ian went down a little while ago." He gestured to the stairs behind him that led down into the belly of the best. The place where everything got done, made, repaired and shipped. "We've got a few shipments in today - fix em up good, eh, Swan?"

"Don't I always, sir?" Bella turned to her employer, a small, genuine smile on her lips.

Truly, work was the only place Bella Swan ever found herself happy and welcomed among friends.

"Don't hurt yourself down there, Swan," Mr. Peterson warned her, walking towards his back office, clipboard in hand. "I'm not paying for any of your hospital bills."

Bella buttoned up her long sleeved work shirt, hanging up her jacket on a clothes peg. "Wouldn't expect you to, sir," she answered on her way down.

Though many may not realise it, that was Mr. Peterson's way of showing concern for his workers. Most of his employees were young kids, starting from their early twenties and usually sticking with the factory work until they retired. Mr. Peterson himself was a younger man, having barely just turned thirty-three this past year. He was tall, and well built with muscles gained from the hard manual labor this job sometimes, more often than not, required. He had short, dirty-blond hair, strong facial features and light brown eyes. He had a tattoo on his chest of his wife's name, Michelle, though he hardly ever mentioned her at work. He tended to keep his social life to himself, and only ever talked about business and the factory with his workers.

Mr. Peterson, though a hard man, always cared for his workers. No one could ever doubt that. Mr. Peterson knew more about what was going on inside his employees heads and lives better than their own parents could claim to. Mr. Peterson was just that type of person.

Gil and Ian were other employees of Mr. Peterson, working the night shift alongside Bella. The two of them were the closest to her, because their job required them to work along side her most of the time. She enjoyed their company; their light hearted humor, and brotherly dispositions. They had both graduated high school, forsaking college. Gil, twenty-five, lived with his girlfriend in a small apartment in Port Angeles. They had been going out for two years now, and he planned on proposing to her sometime soon. He had jet black hair grown down to his ears, his bangs dangling in front of his hazel eyes. Ian was the oldest, at twenty-eight years old, and had been working at the factory the longest. Ian didn't have a girlfriend, instead living with his roommate as a happy bachelor in their apartment across town. Ian always had his long hair tied into a pony tail at the nape of his neck; his blue eyes as clear as the California sky.

A sight none of them knew, being born and raised in Washington. But still, it was nice to think about.

Like the older brothers they were, they talked to Bella about her life, about what they thought she should do with it. College, they insisted adamantly. Going to college would get her places, and both of them knew Bella had the mind for it.

Bella agreed about college, knowing that it would get her a better job down the line, one that didn't require the stress and hard labor her job at the factory currently ensued. But she simply could not afford college, and she was quite content with her job. It kept both her and her mom fed.

That, however, is where Bella cut off the brotherly bond. School was among the only subjects she discussed with them. Not her mom, not her past life, not her social life or lack-there-of. It was a touchy subject, and they would overreact. Bella knew for a fact that they would.

Work sped by for Bella, eating up her hours in what felt like minutes. Covered in sweat, grease smeared along her arms and work shirt, she made her way back up to the main office, Ian and Gil right behind her.

Clocking out, the three of them parted ways. The boys heading off towards the parking lot, Bella back to the bus stop.

Of course they always offered Bella a ride home, even if it was out of their way, but Bella refused. She didn't need their charity, despite how well intentioned their offers were. She could handle things on her own. She was sure about that.

The bus ride home was the same as the ride there. Long and silent. The rain had stopped coming down, which was a good sign. She wouldn't have to worry about her mom getting in an accident on her way home.

Or, she could worry less about her mom getting in an accident.

Renee had never been right after the death of Charlie. It had very well ruined her, and Bella understood that. She knew it was hard on Renee. Renee had loved Charlie so much. They had been high school sweethearts, marrying before either one of them even started college. Renee had a big, fragile heart. That's the main reason why Bella had to protect her. Why she had to watch after her and make sure nothing bad happened to her.

Renee usually slept during the day; sleeping off the night before and any hangovers she might have. Bella kept breakfast and lunch for her warm in the oven. For dinner, Renee would go out, usually to a bar of some sort, but Bella didn't mind. Her mom didn't do anything against the law, never struck Bella or treated her in any way that she didn't deserve.

It was the men that followed Renee home that caused most of the trouble.

It wasn't every night that it happened, but when it did, Bella was always there for her mom. Renee, despite being tipsy and smiling from her good time with the man, would always regret it if she ever let that man get to home base with her. She might go out for a night on the town, but she didn't want to take any access baggage home with her.

And that's where Bella came in. It wasn't anything hard to do, not anything any other child wouldn't do to protect their mother. It was simple enough to get the drunk away from the door, and to keep them out of the house.

Sure, more often than not the dunks had been violent, but it wasn't anything Bella couldn't handle. She loved her mother, and she would do anything for her.

Her house was the same house she had lived in since she was a little girl. A small, two story house, with a one car garage, two bedrooms and one bathroom. Bella hardly had any new furniture in her room. It cost to much, and she could still use the old desk for her work, and the bed was still big enough for her.

Bella never went into Renee's room. Not when she could help it anyway. Renee didn't like it when Bella went in there, so she kept her distance.

Dinner for Bella usually consisted of a bowl of cereal and a granola bar. Nothing to extravagant.

Like any other night, she waited up for her mom to get home, helping her up the stairs to her bedroom door, before checking all the locks in the house and trudging back upstairs to her own room.

Three, maybe four hours of sleep is what Bella usually got a night. Over the weekends, she tried to get a solid eight, though that hardly ever happened. There were just to many things for her to do.

But Bella didn't mind. Because Bella loved her mother, and Bella would do anything to stay with her mother.

Even if it killed her.

Okay, so my first Edward and Bella fic. Sorry if it's a little slow right now, I just wanted to explain some things first, so you can understand a little about what's going on with Bella. The Cullens are coming in next chapter to rock Bella's world, so that should be fun :)

Thanks for reading my fic! I would love to hear back from you guys!

-GrumpySunshine