So apparently I'm just in the Paul loving mood. Please check out my other story "When Fire Meets Fire" and leave a review. But back to this story : ). This first chapter pains me to write. I LOVE Paul, and believe that even though he's a hot head, he's still an amazing man and will show that. But in order to show the good I have to show the bad. Hang in there, and trust me, it gets better.

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything…

Keep your head down. Don't respond. Just do your work. All advice I'd heard over and over in an attempt to deal with bullies. Let me just clear all that up right now; it doesn't change a damn thing. Not when the bully is Paul Lahote. Not when his only apparent joy in life is pushing me ever so closer to the impending edge.

Today was no different.

"Yo' Ginger!" He called, a devilish grin growing on his face. And if you're curious, my name is Piper. Ginger simply refers to my hair color, and how I have "no soul". It sounds like a stupid joke, but it starts to wear you down. I kept my head down and didn't respond, which he apparently took as a challenge. "Bitch, look at me when I'm talking to you." The cafeteria had fallen dead silent now.

I gripped my tray tighter, wishing someone would be kind enough to either slide down and give me a seat, or stand up for me. No one did though. No one wants to sit with Paul's target…or the only white girl in school.

So let me backtrack and explain. I'm half Quileute, supposedly. My mother slept with a Quileute man who promptly left her. My mother, white, raised me for three years. Some things happened and she died. Since then I've been living with her best friends, basically my parents. But, my skin tone was so light I looked tan, not Quileute. Maybe that was why Paul picked me…

"Ginger!" Paul's voice grew louder as he quickly approached. I looked around, struggling to find a way out, but there were no teachers in sight.

My head jerked back and I let out a whimper as Paul wrapped his hand through a fistful of my hair. He then spun me and tossed my tray of food forward, smashing on my shirt. As the tray itself fell to the ground and I swallowed thickly. I had spent a little less then a month saving for it, and now there was a beautiful Monday Surprise stain.

"You going to cry now?" His face hovered over mine, taunting me, gray eyes burrowing into mine. When I didn't answer he grabbed a fistful of my shirt, pulling me up.

"Paul, please." I whimpered, pawing at his hands. My vision blurred and I fought back the tears; he loved tears.

"Oh, beg Ginger." The smirk returned. "Beg for forgiveness."

"Teacher!" One of his buddies called from behind.

Paul scrunched his face, spat in mine, then pushed me down. I slid a few feet on the cool floor. "It really would be easier if you were just dead." Then he turned and was gone.

"Oh Piper." My guidance councilor, Mr. Mulk, walked over and extended me his hand. I took it and he hoisted me to my feet.

I angrily swiped at my spilt tears, hugging myself. "Paul Lahote needs to be expelled." The words tumbled out of my mouth and I didn't even think about them. I was right, he needed some form of punishment.

"Sweetie, he probably just likes you." He gave me a smile and dusted off my shoulders in a patronizing manner. "You know how boys are."

"Are you kidding me right now?" I shoved his hands away. "This has been going on for months, and no one does anything about it! Now you tell me he likes me?" I shook my head and turned on heel, running. Away from Mr. Mulk. From the pain. But most of all from Paul.

When I got home I instantly noticed that I was alone. It just made everything easier, because my mind was set. I couldn't do this anymore.

I grabbed the chef knife out of the knife block and scurried up to the bathroom. Moving inside, I drew a hot bath. While it was running I looked at myself in the mirror, hating what I saw. Frizzy red hair, chunky, face that was ugly yet I couldn't put my finger on why, and flat chested. Why would any guy like me?

With that thought, I yanked my cross off my neck and placed it in the sink, feeling sick to just look at it. I always had a cross on, just to keep me connected with God, kept me on the holy path. Guess that would change now.

Turning, I shut off the water and lowered myself into the scolding water, still fully clothes. I felt the soaked cloth pull me down, dragging me to the bottom. Picking up the knife, I spun it in my hands. The more I thought of this, the more likely I would be to stop it. Then the emotions hit me like a wrecking ball. Pain. Sorrow. Then peace.

"It really would be easier if you were just dead." I mumbled Paul's words from today. As they left my lips, the knife made a quick swipe on my left wrist. I cried out at the pain, then bit my lower lips and clenched my fist. The blood trickled down my wrist then dripped into the water, taking with it my life.

Switching hands, I poised the knife over my right wrist. "Your parents hated you so much they left you to die." Those words hurt more than the blade ever could, because it was wrong. "No one likes you" "You'll never be loved" "Ugly bitch" "Gingers are freaks".

One insult after another left my lips, the memories as painful as the cuts. And now I was sobbing.

Placing the blade on the edge of the tub, I slunk down into the water, letting my wrists soak in the water, screaming in pain. The water was no longer water, but a bath of blood. My blood.

Black dots started to plague my vision and my sense of sound started to fade, ever sound seeming to be coming through cotton balls. The pain faded with my senses.

The last thing I saw was my mother sprinting into the room, mouth open in a scream and a phone pressed to her ear.

"I love you." I managed to whisper before it all went black.

"Is she really back?" Paul asked as he pushed his food around with his fork, avoiding everyone's eyes.

"I don't see why not. It's been a month since…" Jake let the idea hang in the air, not wanting to let the words leave his own mouth. Paul had really grown in the last month, in more ways than physical. He went through the change since the Cullen's were around, and realized how much of an ass he had been to people.

"Guys." Jared tilted his head and everyone turned in the direction.

There she stood, eyes sweeping for something unknown. Her once red hair that trailed down her back looked hastily chopped and jet black. She used to be on the curvier side, but now looked so sickly and frail. No longer did the familiar cross hang on her neck.

Suddenly her sea green eyes snapped to Paul's smoke gray. His heart stopped, every other person in the room faded out, sounds turned down until he only heard her breath, only saw her. Her eyes cut away and he watched as she sped out of the room. The moment she was out of site everything else snapped back into focus.

"She doesn't look so good." He heard Quil mumble, and he turned, messing with his food once more.

"Hey, you okay?" Embry nudged him, giving him a look. "You look like you're gonna puke."

"I'm fine." He snapped, not looking up from his food. Everyone fell silent eating their food, giving him time to cool down.

They didn't know what had just happen. Didn't know what Paul had felt. And they never would have known that Paul Lahote had just fallen in love.