Fearful Facade.

*A.N – First of all, it's all human – basically, Bella was bullied when she was younger – by Edward. 6 years later Bella returns completely different, hiding her real identity from everyone – when presented with a chance to sabotage Edward's life she takes it... but can she hold it up when she herself is being charmed with Edward now turned manwhore?* [rated M for a possibilty of adult themes in later chapters.]

Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, nor do I claim to be.

[it's start of with a dream...

[memory]

I quivered slightly as we drove closer and closer to the dreaded area. I pushed my tight brown pleats behind my ears and readjusted my purple glasses further and more comfortably up my nose just as my mother rounded the corner, asking me questions now and again, checking with me that I could definitely make my way home by myself; I reassured her repeatedly even though I wasn't quite sure myself, reminding her that I was now 11 years old – a big girl.

"Mom, just leave it please, Angela invited me to play with her at the park today and she lives right beside us; she's been to the park by herself lots of times and she'll walk me home – don't worry," my words didn't quite come out the way I planned them to, as usual, my horrible teeth prevented me from properly pronouncing my l's – it was actually very embarrassing to hear yourself talk like a baby day in day out. I saw my mom glance at me through the rear view mirror, a small frown line eminent on her face. She was just a tad overprotective over me; I think because she knows about some of the bullying that goes on, I always strain myself to make sure she knows nothing but something's must have come back to her over the years.

I gave her a widespread grin, hoping to encourage her approval, she finally nodded, her newly styled reddish hair which framed her face beautifully, bouncing a little – all of her new looks to impress her new man, a horrendously simple man – Phil. "I guess you'll be fine, I just worry too much," she smiled back at me, with still a touch of concern in her eyes, pulling up to the park gates.

The sounds of children's laughter bubbled over to us, through the car windows as we both sat in silence before I leaned my head towards my mom, waiting for her to kiss the top of my head before I got out of the car – but this time she began to give me a hug and I recoiled in mortification – I was laughed at enough, and I really didn't want "mommy's girl" to be added to the long, long list of names I was already repeatedly called, "what?" my mom asked, shocked at my unfamiliar behaviour.

"I'm not a baby," I hissed, giving her a quick peck on the cheek then putting my hand on the door handle.

She put her hand on top of mine, stopping me from opening it, "what's this about?" I turned my head towards hers, ready to lie to her ceremoniously, just as I always did – but I was caught off guard by her intense, staring eyes.

"N-n-nothing," I stuttered, this time not because of my oversized teeth. "I'm just old enough now that I don't need to be fussed over," I saw her face fall slightly as I spoke the words, and all I wanted to do was give her a big bear hug, but I knew all too well the punishment that would be waiting for me just outside the car door if anyone happened to catch me caving in and showing my mother such affection in such a public place – I was too old for it now.

"Okay then," she spoke with a slight stiffness to her tone, I'm guessing she was a little offended and I decided it was time to get this show on the road – no more time wasting. "I'm ready to go, I'll be home by eight," I began to smile but she kept her face straight.

"Seven."

"Eight," but she just raised her eyebrows, signalling her disapproval of my plan. I sighed and glared at her, a new found attitude, "How about half seven?" I waited a couple of seconds before purposefully mumbling under my breath that everyone else was allowed to stay out till eight.

She surprised me by turning her stubborn head way from my face and looking down to where her bag was, wedged in at the side of her; I watched as she took out 2 dollar bills and then turned back to me, resignation written across her face.

I took them slowly, giving a nod of silent thanks – our relationship had become somewhat strained of late, her boyfriend, Phil, being the cause.

Without another word I got out of the car, waving as I did to the warm, smiling face of Angela Webber; I heard my mom's car engine rev up a little then the sound of it driving off around the corner – I felt a pang of guilt, I hadn't even waved a goodbye.

But soon all was forgotten as we found our way to the epic climbing frame; we began swinging onto monkey bars, sliding down the rustic old shoot, giggling as we did so, and sharing our crappy family life with each other. Both of us were having some trouble at home, Angela's parents on the verge of a break up and my mother's supremely annoying new man wriggling his way deeper and deeper into my life – trying somewhat, to replace my father.

I suppose we were acting a little younger than our years as we chatted and laughed, swung in and out of different places in the humungous frame, climbing on top of the rope surface – pretending to be an acrobat and allsorts. Trying to forget our school time horrors.

But they soon caught up with us; in the form of the hell makers themselves:

Edward – the leader of the vicious clan, clearly planning things out before he did them teasing me for just walking on this earth. The cause of many sleepless and tearful nights of mine.
Emmett – his tank of a brother, a beast of a boy, the one who would hold me down for the girls to kick and scratch at.
Rosalie – the long time girlfriend of the above oaf; her utter beauty allowing her to pick on people below her, she had everyone at the school struggling to be her friend.
Tanya – Rosalie's devoted follower, always trying to impress everyone with her nastiness, sometimes she seemed sympathetic but then would surprise you with an outbreak of violence.

With Edward at the head of them, they made their way towards us slowly, whispering behind hands and making us both blush a ruby red with embarrassment – even though we didn't know what we were embarrassed for.

He swaggered forward, his green eyes sparkling mischievously, he opened his mouth, taking a small breath, then turned his gaze directly onto me, "Why are you so disgusting, Isabella?" he asked, as the rest of his crew erupted into cruel laughter.

I looked from him, to a fearful Angela, then to a couple of people from my school – onlookers; and decided to just start climbing down, and walk my way home – I ignored his hurtful question and began to place my foot into a lower square of grizzly blue rope.

"Isabeeeeeella!" he jeered, "you haven't answer my question..." he paused, biting the tip of his tongue, "or would you like us to answer it for you?" he gestured towards his grinning friends and I shrank back into the scratching surface I was now hanging onto; I chose to ignore him again, glancing up to see a frozen Angela, her eyes trained on those of the bullies.

"Please, leave us alone," I choked out, knowing all too well that my repellent lisp was about to be made fun of.

"PWWWWEASSSE," Rosalie balled, in an extreme version of me, she stuck out her bottom lip and balled her fists together, rubbing them like a baby would on her face, pretending to cry.

I heard the hysterical laughter start and turned away to hide my real tears; all I had wanted was a little play in the park with my friend, clearly I was incapable of staying out of troubles way for just a few hours.

"Fatty!" Edward called, "get your big wobbly jelly belly down here before you break the whole climbing frame!" I heard a small whining noise and soon my throat began to tighten, just as it did when I began to cry – I soon realised the whining noise was me, and it was getting louder, it broke and changed into short sobs, I tried and failed to stop them.

I slipped down several knots of rope, just as Emmett and Rosalie got to the wall, ready to collect me at the bottom, "Edward!" Emmett smirked, "I know I'm strong for my age, but there is no way that only me and Rosalie could lift her," he sneered my name scornfully and Emmett and Tanya came towards me, the little gang gathered together again.

I must have been about half a metre above their heads when Edward snaked out a hand and pulled on my leg hard just as I was moving the other; I panicked and exerted a deadlock with my hands onto the rough material of the rope, swinging by only my hands as my feet tried to find a place to put themselves.

My glasses began to slide down my sticky wet face, making me realise I had begun to sweat – I was rapidly aware of the wetness under my arms and down my back, and wished with all I could that they wouldn't see my embarrassing bodily functions...

"Ewwww," Tanya screeched, "look at her back, it's all wet!"

"Yuck," Rosalie spat maliciously, reaching up and grabbing one of my round legs, "oh my gawd," she drawled, "I can hardly even fit my hand around her ankle," the rest of them snickered as I felt another whoosh of sweat pour over me, and I gripped even more tightly onto the now burning ropes, biting my lip vehemently, tears streaming unendingly down my face.

"Stop," I begged, but it went unheard as they continued their meanities.

"Grab the other one, Emm, we're gonna pull this whale down to the ground," she let out a haunting laugh, and I felt the warm and large hand of her chuckling boyfriend through my shoe.

"On the count of three," Edward narrowed his eyes nastily, "spotty will fall," with that they started their count down, and as if in slow motion, I looked up into Angela's petrified face, mouthing to her – it's not your fault – but she only shook her head a tear falling from her face, and I heard the echoing 'one' resound around the park, there seemed to be a eerie silence as I was ripped painfully from the ropes and fell screaming into the arms of the lot of them, at first I thought they were being kind enough to catch me, before Edward began to give his orders to how they should drop me on the floor.

"N – no," I moaned, almost silenced with fear.

"Oh shut up," Tanya growled, getting into the swing of things, "I think you boys should do it now, I can't be bothered with anymore of Belly's whines," she poked at my stomach and I watched in horror as it shook a little, "just like jelly," she giggled.

"Do what?" I squeaked, as they all held me in their arms still, as if they were about to give me a childish leg and a wing.

I waited for the voices of other children, just one person to stand up for me, I prayed for them, I wished for them – for everyone to realise the pain I was in and stop them, but no one would ever come to my rescue.

Edward took one hand which was holding me up, and slipped it into his pocket, pulling out an oddly shaped, tin-foil wrapped thing, Emmett took one hand from the part of me he was holding up and they worked together to pull it out from the wrappage, a large shard of glass, an uneven triangular shape coming to a sharp point at the top. I was confused at first, but when I saw him draw it closer and closer to the palm of his hand, giving Emmett the side of me which he was carrying so he could do it.

"Uhh," Emmett sighed as he took the weight of me," this thing ways a ton," of course, he was referring to me.

"You know, I actually think she looks more like a pig than anything else – have you seen those tails she has in her hair," her laughter pierced me and merited another cascade of tears.

I began to squirm under their firm grip; I hadn't even attempted it before knowing it would probably only cause me more pain as even if I did manage to break free, I wasn't a very fast runner and they would probably just grab me and assume the hurting positions again – so as the glass shard made its way nearer I kicked and squealed my hardest, my eyes closing over tightly so not to see the unsightly liquid pour from what would almost certainly soon be a brutal gash.

All too quickly I was free of their grip but my body still continued to stay in its horizontal position, and as I fell to the ground I waited to hear the crack of my skull against the pavement which never came, instead, the rest of my body thumped down onto it but my head was cushioned by what felt like a hand, it was retrieved almost as soon as I had hit the ground and I kept my eyes tightly crinkled closed.

I felt my knees naturally come towards my early developing chest; I had no way to stop the sobs from coming, because now they were changing into hysterics. All of my back stung from impact with the hard ground and I started to shake.

It felt like hours but when I thought about it, it could only have been seconds before a finger was placed onto my forehead, it poked me at little, then stopped, then started again, till finally I managed to compose myself enough to open my eyes.

I was shocked to find the startlingly jade green eyes of my tormenter, his face as a whole had a hard, uncaring expression on it, you could only just notice, if you were staring straight into his eyes, that he had a little bit of regret hidden, and maybe, just maybe, he was a little sorry for what he had done.

I couldn't believe it, I was in complete shock to find the devil incarnate may actually have a heart – but my hopes were to be dashed by his next spat out words, "Alright, whale?" the eyes changed in that instant back to the norm; in the same instant I felt a surge of anger, not just towards him but towards myself for actually believing for even a second that there was hope with him, him of all people.

I lashed out too quickly to think about what I was getting myself in for, "get off of me," I wept, throwing out a large arm, and with the other arm pushing my spectacles up my wet nose, beginning to sit up again before I was pushed back down by several harsh hands, all I could see at that point was their faces, staring down at me like I was some dog crap on their shoe.

I flipped them the bird as I panted heavily and I saw Edward's face contort, for a second I thought his eyes had turned red with anger and in under a second he had torn the sharp piece of glass across his palm in such a quick motion I had no time to close my eyes in the of what would come next.

I saw the dripping scarlet liquid and felt the familiar light-headed feeling, my head lolled right back and a soft "ahhh," came from my mouth as I felt bile rise up my throat, I managed to swallow it but I couldn't keep the closing of my eyes, the shutdown of my mind and I soon descended into blackness.

The nauseous feeling awoke me, my eyelids fluttered a little in the surprising light, I was quite disorientated.

A sobbing sound was repetitive and annoying, I wanted to shut it up to be quite honest, yet I lay there with my eyes closed and stomach churning as I was in a relatively high amount of pain.

Eventually, the whining noise got too much for me – I was in a sort of dreamy state, not quite sure what was going on but I could still tell I wasn't in my bed.

"Shhhhh," I managed, and found that my voice was hoarse and my throat sore. I found proper feeling in my hands and legs returning to me, I was back in control of my body.

My shushing didn't seem to make a difference, so I propped myself up on my hands and elbows, opening my eyes slowly in the light to find myself outside, the area was shaded, and I scanned above me with my eyes, finally making the conclusion that I had been lying under a tree – had I been sunbathing?

"Bella," a guilty small voice came from my right and turned to look at her, her eyes widened and she let out another gasp, "I'm so sorry, I never meant to let them..." she looked down to the floor, ashamed.

"What..?" It all came back to me then I gasped as I realised that I was in the corner of the park and I'm guessing they had beaten me up by the pain in my legs. I sighed, looking around for them – apparently they had taken off after doing their 'job'. Oh well. I guess it's just another week or two of hiding bruises from my mom. "It's fine Ang," I concluded, "it's only a few bruises and stuff, it doesn't matter," I would have thought Angela would have gotten used to me getting beaten up in front of her, I had always told her to stay out of it, so she couldn't blame herself – I was just a pain magnet.

Angela shook her head slowly, a look of pity written across her face, "Bella – it's different this time – they took it further than before, I'm really sor-"

"What is it?"

"Just do this," she lifted her hand to her hair as I did; just like we were playing a nice fun game of Simon says. Except this wasn't fun, and what I found certainly wasn't fun either.

I felt around at the back of my head for a few minutes, literally mute with shock, they could never have taken it this far... they had taken it this far, "they, they - cut my hair off?" my voice had jumped up two octaves by the time I had finished the sentence. I pulled at the short spikes of hair left, just about small enough to maybe be passed off as a bob – but the slant way it was cut showed that it was clearly not supposed to be like that, it seemed that had just cut of my pig tails and left it at that. My neck tickled and itched with strands of my removed hair.

I felt the tears stream into my eyes and down my face as Angela put her bony arms around my big fat waist.

"I'm," sniff, "really," sniff "sorry, I should have stopped them," she erupted into a despairing cry as I sat silently, looking down at my humongous body, my fingers trailing across my spotty face, pulling of my glasses in an unexpected swell of anger.

Why was I born such an ugly creature, why was I the one that was always picked on? I kept myself to myself on purpose, whenever I spoke out everyone would giggle – because the fat girl was sharing her opinions.

Kids from the grade below me, a blonde little petite, pretty girl, a grinning mop headed boy, walked past us – pointing and laughing at my ridiculous hair and both of our tears.

I heard their whispers of unkindness, everything they said about me.

Everyone knew about me at school, and it wasn't because I was popular, it was due to the fact that I was the whole towns outcast – nobody wanted to be near me, the only person who ever spoke to me unless they had to was Angela and even at that, I saw her freeze up repeatedly as others came over to bully me – she was embarrassed to be seen with me.

So right there and then I made the decision to stop pulling the poor thing down with me – she was quite pretty – slim, no spots, fashionable looking glasses, she's had a couple of boys asking her out. I didn't deserve her as a friend, so I stood up, pulling her hands off me.

Brushing myself down, almost losing my obstinacy as I saw the large pile of newly cut hair lying beneath me – but I managed to keep control, thinking the most random thoughts I could to stop those images hurting me, I wasn't being very successful.

My feet dragged along as I walked away, ignoring Angela's cries for me to come back – I heard her stand up to come after me, and I picked up the pace, running towards the woods, the quickest way back to my home if I could only remember to take the right paths through it.

It wasn't dark but I still swithered whether or not I should run inside, I looked just as I heard Angela call my name; she was close and I needed to get away so I forced my feet to take me deep into the forest.

Several minutes later I was panting as I slid to the ground and covered my noisy mouth with my hands, cutting off the sobs quickly. My flowery lilac jeans were beginning to soak through at the bum, the soft moss I had thought was dry must still be wet from the dew this morning – I heard echoes of Angela's voice and I pushed my head down and under the logs, twigs snapping and leaves rustling yet in my ears but I stayed completely still, hoping that she wouldn't suss where the noise was coming from .Of course my first thought was to stop myself from crying, the weird feeling still hadn't stopped – my head just felt like it was missing a certain weight it had always needed – my hair.

I hated it.

Eventually the voice died down and I peeked my head up over the broken trees, checking for anybody. But there was no one; I stood up, noting the pins and needles which had found their way to my left foot. My canvas trainers were coated in mud, but that didn't matter to me at all, nothing did. I collapsed with a different sort of weight I felt to be on my head.

I was a condemned girl, never to have love, never to have kisses, never to have boyfriends – no more friends.

I looked at my now dirty fingers, small and stubby. My nails were long and filled with a tiny layer of mud – I bent over, eventually just falling to my knees with a dull thump anger building up in me I clawed at the ground shouting the unfair nature of my problems to the surrounding wilderness, I lifted up my fore-finger bending it in the middle and in one swift movement tearing it against my fore arm flesh.

An angry red line appeared and I felt some satisfaction that I was hurting the ugly shell which enclosed me.

I lifted it again, and again, and again, slitting repeatedly at the same point until it finally became a long thin cut – I knew what would happen if I looked at it properly, my phobia would cause me to pass out, a panic attack at least.

So I stared intently as the first drop of blood oozed, followed by several of its brothers and sisters.

My head began to spin, my heart started to thump.

Suddenly the pain of physical and emotional hurt was just too much – anguish, anger, agony.

Scream...

Scream.

My body threw itself upwards, another scream falling from my mouth. I gulped down air – my chest pushing up just as the rest of my body slowly started to erupt in shakes. My eyes sprung open to the blackness of my new bedroom – the shaking stopping in a huge relief as I realised that I wasn't there... anymore.

I tried to reassure myself that it happened years ago; but soon the reason for me having the detailed nightmare soon came to mind and I began to softly but fearfully shake again, reaching down to the dark floor and pulling up the kicked away quilt, wrapping myself in it, placing my slightly damp from tears pillow over my head so I wouldn't wake Charlie and letting more of the sobs vibrate through me.

Today was my first day of school back in Forks.

I stayed like that for what felt like hours, until I heard the loud annoying beeps of my new alarm clock – I dragged my head out from under my safe retreat and grabbed my glasses quickly, sticking them on top of my nose, letting my eyes focus enough to check the time – just as I had set it, 5:30.

My dad had told me several times not to set it this early and that it was just school, but to me, this wasn't just school, this was a chance to change my image. I had changed drastically both physically and emotionally since my last encounter with the "children" of Forks, the question for me was – would that be enough?

I stood up with these thoughts spinning through my head and aired my velvety purple quilt, sending a soft breeze over myself; I ran through my schedule in my head which I had planned for today for probably the hundredth time, I knew it off by heart.

I finished tucking my covers into the sides of my bed frame and slipped on my comfy, wearing old slippers, traipsing slowly and tiredly into the only shower in the house, as I stripped down the freezing cold air of Forks hit me, causing me to shiver and my teeth to chatter – I tried to concentrate on what I was actually doing at that particular moment rather than think about what was on my agenda for today.

It just wasn't working for me.

I stood naked with only a towel wrapped around me, closing me off from the cold breeze which was beginning to nip at my feet just as I remembered that I would have to wait a few minutes for this shower to warm up enough.

I paced around, on top of the cold bathroom tiles, trying to find something to do, when my eye was suddenly caught by an old looking, grey radio, hanging from one of the hooks on the bathroom wall, I descended on it like a wolf, harshly trying to turn the dials – needing some escape from my panic stricken mind into the world of music.

Without warning it blared out a song I had listened to long ago – longed for it to come true.

Your Guardian Angel it was called; as I listened to just a couple of lines of it I felt the wetness on my cheek and reached up a finger touching the spot, finding that I had begun to cry.

I breathed deeply as a line I knew so well came to play, feeling of regret and fear erupted into the pit of my stomach sending a soft painful moan from my mouth and causing me to momentarily lose my sanity, my hand ruthlessly swung for the radio, my knuckle coming into contact with the object and pressing it to the floor, pushing down on it so hard that the hook came clean out of the wall, it smashed to the floor, creating a long crack on the tiles below. The noise stopping in that second, becoming a thoughtful silence

I let out a heartbroken sob and shrunk to the floor, the towel slipped from my body as I slid into the shower.

I sat on the floor of the hot showering square, letting the boiling hot water sting at my flesh as my thoughts plummeted into the darkness of my childhood.

The nightmare I had screamed myself out of last night was just as vivid as it was on the day it happened, I envied the countless number of people who could block things they didn't like out – because if I could, I most certainly would.

When I was younger I had lived with my mother in Forks, my mom and dad had been separated since birth and as they had split on bad terms I saw very little of my father, not many people knew I was the chief of police's daughter, I often wondered if I had told him, or even threatened my bullies of his power – would things have been as bad?

So I had grown up to be fat little Isabella Dwyer, starting from my first day at kindergarten – I was blissfully ignorant of my overweight status before then, and was in for a rude awakening when I started school; I wouldn't blame my mother to her face, but I think I'll always have a certain grudge towards her, not intentionally kept but unable to be let go off, as she was the one who fed me to that stage and never forced me to do enough exercise.

I happily moved away from Forks just before I turned 12 years old, at the end of the school year – I used those 3 months to change myself.

I pushed myself into a strict diet and exercise course, at the time it took every ounce of strength I had to see it through, and when I became a little underweight, it took alot for me to cut down on my daily routines of exercise and slack of a little on my eating so I could have a normal healthy eating way of life... it's still hard.

But I done it, and I wasn't bullied the way I was here when I moved school – sadly I went through puberty earlier than all of my class mates when I lived in Forks and gained even more weight in the chest area and received a heck of alot of spots over my face. Both of these gradually disappeared as I started my healthy eating and exercising.

My glasses slowly changed into contact lenses during the day and my retainer put a stop to the lisp, in time.

My hair, however, grew quite slowly. I can just describe it as frustrating, completely frustrating.

But there we go, I have went through severe changes over the past 5 years, and my sobs cut themselves short as I stared down at my slim body – self conscious as I was I knew that I had brought about that change through gruelling training and pure hard work.

I picked myself up, now and again letting out short sniffs as I washed my hair and body, shaving my legs quickly.

I was terrified of what the day ahead held for me but I had to hold strong and I had to do the best I could to make the impression I wanted.

I had made the frightening decision to move back to Forks for my mom and her husband's benefit and I would give it an effortful try before I gave up and decided to go home. If I give up.

I wrapped the cotton towel around me and tip-toed out of the bathroom, realising that I had probably woken Charlie at least twice with my screaming and punching of the radio; I would come back for the mess I had made when I was dressed.

I dried myself quickly, noticing the time was already quarter past six and I want to be more than ready for school by the time I need to leave. I opened my newly painted closet which was full of several high fashion items – I, personally, hate shopping and all of the other hullaballoo that goes with it, but it's pretty necessary to know the trends when wanting to set a good impression in your high school.

I glanced down at a magazine I had purchased a couple of weeks ago, flipping to the page where it showed you the new trends and set out several outfits for you to buy, telling you the store and price of each item.

I had worked a little for Phil's parents in Phoenix, they owned a restaurant there and I had earned quite a high amount in tips and pay so I saved up knowing that I would probably be coming to Forks sometime soon – before I left for Forks, I bought five laid out outfits which cost me $1200, maybe not the smartest idea to some people, but it really boosted my confidence when I put on those garments and new that this was what the "in" crowd wears.

I studied the pictures for several minutes, trying to decide whether jeans or a skirt would be the best choice for my first day back – I finally decided on the indigo tight denim pencil skirt which had beautiful sailor style brass buttons at the top, a frilled white blouse, small red heels (I might just get away with wearing them in front of Charlie – after all, they're only two inches), my indigo pea coat would work the look perfectly.

I was just about to change into my clothes when I heard a loud thud and a shout coming from the bathroom – I wrapped the towel even tighter around me and ran into the bathroom, flinging open the door to find my cursing dad on the floor at my feet.

"Dad!" I exclaimed, extending one arm to help him up, due to the fact I was wearing only a towel.

"What the heck happened in here?" he grumbled, pulling himself to his feet.

I froze, trying to think up a good excuse, "Uhm... I kinda fell on top of it... I was going to get dried then come back and clear it up,"

A frown line creased his forehead and he gave me one suspicious look before he bent down to start picking the bits up, "I slipped on the stupid thing," he muttered.

I took this as my cue to leave and bolted from the door, deodorizing myself fully, then slipping into my thigh high pop socks, then following with the rest of the outfit.

No one will ever understand the deep dread I felt at the thought of looking into the mirror, every single time I made the effort to do my make up or to do my hair I had to use it; but I was genuinely frightened each time I had to look.

I found my contact lenses and slid them into my eye uncomfortably, praying silently that the day I would get laser eye surgery would come quicker – these things itched like hell.

I opened up the dressing table mirror and sat on the stool, plugging in my curlers and using a soft moisturiser – everything done by the book.

Sometimes I looked at myself and I wondered - have I lost my personality in all this? Then I work out that I don't care, because it's better than having your personality then being treated like crap – trust me.

I put a few curls into the back of my hair, used a little bit of blusher, eyeliner, and the basics really. Hopping into my heels and checking the time – 6:45.

I decided to eat my breakfast then maybe burn of a CD for my truck which had been thankfully fitted with a CD player by my dear father.

Breakfast was quick and sweet; I burned a disc of the top 20 songs right now then threw myself into the housework left over from last night, careful not to get anything on my outfit but all the time just trying to keep my mind of what was swiftly approaching.

I checked the time – 7:30.

Time to leave in twenty minutes.

My dad was just leaving for work, as I heard him come downstairs I shouted a goodbye but he came into the kitchen where I was just removing an apron I had been using to protect my clothes.

"Hey Bells," he gave me sort of patronizing half smile; making me worry about what was coming next.

I nodded lightly, biting the inside of my cheek in nervousness.

His eyebrows drew together slightly, "are you okay," I was rather taken aback by his serious tone, it had changed quite abruptly.

"I'm, I'm fine – why?" I turned away from him, protecting him from my upset.

I jumped a little as his hand came to my shoulder, turning me around gently, "listen Bella, I know that..." he paused tactfully, surprising me slightly, "things happened before – and I know kids can be horrible. If you don't want to do this you can pull out now, we'll find somewhere else and, if the worse comes to it," he seemed reluctant to finish his sentence, but did, "you can always go back with your mom,"

I shook my head, "no dad, I'm staying here, and as for the bullying thing – I'm over it now – it was a long time ago," I held up my lie quite well but I was dying to just change schools. I wouldn't cause my dad too much effort, he already has enough on his plate and now he's become a full time single parent on top of all of that.

He leaned over, not very like him, and gave me a peck on the cheek, and a small hug. Affection wasn't both of our strong points but it was very appreciated at a time like this – clearly I hadn't fooled him as much as I thought I had.

He turned to leave and I decided it was time for me to leave too; I hadn't yet been on a drive bigger than around two blocks since I got here, so I would most probably get lost anyway.

I heard the front door slam closed as my dad left and I ran upstairs to grab my coat, CD, and iPod. I'm pretty much musical orientated, it provides a place for me to go into when I'm upset and when I have no one to turn to. It keeps me from falling in on myself.

When I stepped outside I felt the familiar sense of caution enter me, the pink slabs which created a path from me to the truck were now a blood red due to last night's downpour, I carefully stepped across them, crossing the gravel to get to my also red truck, which I had thankfully been given yesterday by my father, because of one of his olds friends unfortunate disposition (he had been put into a wheelchair).

I sort of enjoyed the visit of Billy; he had a son who drove him over who happened to have an extremely nice girlfriend, a little self interested now and again but all around a lovely girl, if I remember right her name's Leah; she stuck to him like glue the hole time and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her – to be honest, it made me jealous seeing them so happy.

I sat in the comfy seat, sticking in my CD and blaring some old songs that were my mothers favourites, Whitney Houston, Celine Dion and lots of other cheesy love things – I hated to tell anyone about my true taste in music, just another reason for people to make fun of me.

I started up the engine with a hard turn of the ignition, checking my mirrors then stamping down on the reverse – I swung out of the drive way and began my journey towards the school of hell.

I followed the signs even though I still hoped in the back of my mind that somehow I would get lost in the new roads, but it seemed that it was easy enough – as I drove closer and closer I felt myself burst into several hot flushes and found myself exceedingly grateful that I had put on alot of deodorant before leaving the house.

I drove quite quickly on the small boulevard and got the fright of my life when a silver car going at least 30mph OVER the speed limit drove near up my backside before changing lanes – I looked out of my side window, viewing the car as it sped off past me, wishing my dad had been somewhere nearby to catch the idiot – whoever it was should know that driving like that could cost lives.

As much as I was fuming at the stupid driver my mind soon closed back in on what was coming next as I approached Forks high School, it looked more like a town hall than a school – not as big as the high school I had just transferred from.

I looked for a car park and spotted it with only one car parked in it – the silver Volvo. I wondered why any student would be in such a rush to get to school – as they had already exited the car and there was no one around I still couldn't put a face to the thoughts.

So I parked up the truck, turned off my music, stuck my iPod into my coat pocket and stepped out into the lion's den.

As Bella Swan.

*A.N – I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was just to see if you like it... Reviews, alerts, favs, - they all help me write faster so please please please review x*