Disclaimer: I own neither Twilight nor Hell.

Author's Note: First I'd like to thank my amazing beta HappyMess who really helped me with all of this!

This story is very much based upon Lolita Pille's Hell. It's not mine, so please don't sue. This is All-Human and very much OOC. For those who are easily upset, don't read: it deals with sex, drugs, alcohol, abortion and all those sensitive subjects. If you review (and I hope you do), please don't tell me abortion is wrong or that abortion is murder because it pisses me off to no end. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion but I don't have to listen to yours if I don't like it, so please abstain.

Hell

~ Bella ~

I'm a bitch. The kind of bitch you can't stand, the kind of bitch you loathe. I'm such a bitch, I'm sure you wish I were dead. Don't worry sweetheart, I wish the same to you. I'm the dazzling symbol of capitalism and of privileges. I don't care for anything except me. I spend more time applying makeup and sunbathing than you do working in order to sustain your poor and pathetic little needs. I'm the pure product of the Think Pink generation, my credo: be pretty and consume. I'm the muse of the God Appear on whose alter I cheerfully sacrifice more money than you make in a month.

I'm a bit of the flashy side, I know. I must look like a total tart dressed in Gucci from head to toe. You think I'm stupid and shallow. Well, that might be true but you would be wrong to underestimate me. I'm very much lucid about the life I lead. My good looks are my weapons. They're going to help me find a husband at least as filthy rich as daddy. I won't work. I'll be a trophy wife. I don't care. It's what I've been brought up to be.

I despise you. I don't even see you; you're not part of my world. There's you and there's us.

We live a 200mph life. We mix alcohol with weed, weed with coke and coke with ecstasy. Guys fuck hookers bareback and then cum inside their little sisters' girlfriends who are anyway willing participants in orgies from dawn to dusk. We're in a complete delirium of sex, drugs and money. We take Prozac like you take Tylenol and we'd like to commit suicide at every bank statement.

End Note: This is going to be a short story: 7 chapters. This is all in Bella's point of view.