'Lo all =) This is my first story, hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing =(

Warning: Broken Twilight is rated M for rape and SI (self-injury). If these kinds of topics offend you, then don't continue to read.

This chapter is titled after Well Enough Alone by Chevelle. Enjoy?!

Chapter 1: Well Enough Alone

Bella's POV

I braced myself as Renee came toward me for one last hug and I held my breath, counting the seconds in my pattern 1,2,3...1,2...1,2,3…-trying hard not to freak out- until she let go. I breathed in and fixed a nonchalant expression onto my face.

"Bye, honey. I love you," her voice broke. I'd grown distant and a bit angry at Renee since it had started happening, but I still didn't want to see her sad.

"I love you too, mom," I turned and started walking away, pondering in my mind whether or not love was indeed real.

"Bella, wait!" she shouted. I turned back to her. "Here…call me everyday." She handed me the small black cell phone that she'd purchased for me a few days earlier. It was one of her conditions for letting me go. She said that now, there was no excuse for not keeping in touch with her.

Once I was on the plane, my carefully fabricated indifference broke. I took my seat and put my headphones on, turning my music up, as loud as it would go. The woman sitting beside me looked in my direction and quickly put her own headphones on, not appreciating the heavy metal emanating from my ipod.

I put my head in my hands, willing the music to soothe me, to no avail. It wasn't enough. Silent tears trickled down my cheeks. I didn't really want to leave Renee. It was necessary, though. At least, that's what I kept telling myself. People were starting to get suspicious as to why I always wore so many layers. It's ridiculous to live in Phoenix and dress for cool weather. Renee's obliviousness was killing me. I couldn't continue to live with her and my stepfather.

Phil. Just thinking the name gave me goose bumps. It terrified me. It brought back the horrible memories that I tried to bury in the back of my mind. It made my wrist ache for sharp steel. Too bad I couldn't bring that on the plane with me.

I stared at the wrist bands that covered both of my wrists for a moment and stood up to get my carry-on bag from the overhead compartment. I rifled through it, searching for anything that was the slightest bit sharp. Shit. Nothing. I'd have to wait until I arrived at Forks. I should have done it before I left the house, but Renee was hovering over me, not letting me out of her sight. As if I would disappear at any second.

I was getting another headache. A side effect of the damnable Prozac prescribed by that genius psychiatrist of mine, Dr. Jones. The headaches were pretty strong. Ah…the perils of being crazy. If you asked me, the Prozac wasn't helping my "condition" at all. I still felt the same and those damned side effects were starting to get to me. But, on the other hand, when I exceeded the required dosage, it felt pretty darned good.

I'd been seeing Dr. Jones twice a week for about a month- at Renee's request- before he finally diagnosed me with Major clinical depression or major depressive disorder (MDD). Jones never got a word out of me as to why I was so depressed. But really, if I wouldn't talk to anyone close to me, what made Renee think that I would talk to a psychiatrist?

I wonder what my new psychiatrist will be like. Another one of Renee's conditions was that I have sessions with a psychiatrist in Forks at least once a week.

"Would you like anything to drink, ma'am?" the flight attendant's concerned voice snapped me out of my reverie.

"No, thank you," I said in a quiet voice and she moved on. I hadn't realize that the tears were still coming down my cheeks. I wiped them away and tried to compose myself, taking deep breaths. Once again, I masked my emotions with that nonchalant expression that I'd grown so accustomed to using. I'd learned to hide my feelings quite well.

I cleared my mind of all thoughts, for the less I thought, the less I'd feel. And I didn't want to have one of my episodes on the plane. All I wanted to feel was sweet nothingness, numbness, apathy. I liked being numb. Just the thought of no pain was wonderfully appealing. There was nothing in me and that was how I liked it.

The plane finally landed in Port Angeles and Charlie was waiting outside my gate. "Hey, Bells," he sounded quite chipper.

"Hi, Cha-dad," I tried to sound as cheerful as I could.

"You haven't changed a bit," he stated.

I had to suppress a bitter laugh. Not on the outside, I thought. I gave him a smile. Fake as it was- because those seemed to be the only ones I could muster up anymore- he didn't seem to notice. He wasn't very perceptive and I was thankful for that. Or maybe it was because I had been faking smiles and emotions for so long, that I was actually good at it.

He took my bags and led me to his police cruiser. Charlie was the chief of police in Forks. Living with a cop should be safe, right?

The drive home was silent, but neither of us minded it. When we got to the house, I spotted an old red Chevy truck. That's odd. I don't remember Charlie needing another car.

"When did you get the truck, dad?"

"I actually got it for you, Bells," he admitted sheepishly. "You'll need a way to get around." He continued to tell me about how he had gotten it from his old friend Billy Black.

"Thanks, dad. I love it," I really did. It had…character. "But I did bring money to buy one myself. You didn't have to."

"It's okay. It was my pleasure," he said as he climbed out of the cruiser. He took my bags out of the trunk and brought them up to my room.

"Where's Ruth?" I asked. Ruth was Charlie's wife. I had only met her once, which was for the wedding. I'd gotten a bad feeling about her, though. She was a tall woman- a bit taller than Charlie, even- with fair skin, black hair, and dull brown eyes.

"She went to Seattle with her friends," he stated. "She'll be back tomorrow by the time you get back from school. She is very excited that you are going to be living with us."

I decided to unpack, first. When I was done unpacking, I took a shower. I was extremely tense, so I stood under the shower head and let the hot water relax my muscles.

I searched the medicine cabinet after I'd gotten my pajamas on. After a minute, I spotted a small silver blade. I ran my thumb across the edge, wincing as it drew blood. Perfect, I thought as I placed it in my bag of toiletries.

I slipped back into my room after shouting a "goodnight" to Charlie, who was downstairs watching a game on ESPN. My room hadn't changed a bit since I was a child. The walls were still blue and the same yellow curtains still hung around the window.

I turned my light off and went to sit cross legged on my bed. Ugh. I start school tomorrow. I took the alarm clock from the nightstand and set the alarm to 6:30 am and put it back.

Forks Highschool was a small school. Not overpopulated like my old school in Phoenix. It was so easy to go by unnoticed because there was always so much going on. So easy to isolate myself from everybody else. But, I severely doubted it would be like that, now.

Being the new girl in a school of only three hundred and fifty-eight students was sure to be difficult. I'd probably be much different than these kids, though I seriously hoped otherwise. Being the only…"punk"? I guess- for lack of a better term- in a new school, would surely draw attention to me. Not to mention having MDD. I could only wish that not many people would notice me.

Suddenly, with my head in my hands, I began to sob. I mean really bawl. The numbness was gone and I was left to feel all of the pain and worry that I'd been suppressing. It was a good thing that Charlie was downstairs.

(A/N) So there it is. Please r&r. I want to know what you think!

I've started editing some chapters because as the time goes by, the way I write changes(hopefully for the better), but I'm only making a few corrections. Nothing drastic, as I don't want to confuse anyone.