A/N: Sorry it's a day late. I came home yesterday only to find that my computer was completely taken apart so my brother's friend could "borrow" some pieces, and the internet in my area was down. Nonetheless, here it is. Chapter one.

"You'll be fine. He seemed very nice when I spoke to him on the phone." My aunt had told me as we walked into the airport.

I knew she was excited to see me leave. It's not that she hated me. It's just that when my mother died, I knew that along with the stress of the loss of her sister, she didn't want the responsibility of raising me.

She doesn't have a lot of money. She could barely put food on the table with the three weeks I was with her.

Still, I couldn't help but feel just a little betrayed. She was the only family I knew, and the first thing she did when I got to her house was google search my father's name. By the next day she had him on the phone.

I was surprised it was that easy to find my father. I had never tried because I never thought I could. Though, no one had ever told me his name. I don't think I ever asked.

I had wondered a lot of things about my father. I was always afraid to ask mom about it though. All I knew is that he didn't want me then, so why does he want me now?

It didn't matter. I was about to start my junior year of high school. I couldn't very well legally raise myself. I had no say in where I went, so there was no need crying over what I couldn't help.

Even if he were the worst person on earth, I'd be 18 in 14 months. I figure no person on this earth can be worse than seeing your mother die. I was a shell. I didn't think anything would ever be able to evoke any kind of emotion in me ever again.

I didn't even deserve emotions.

In spite of my self, I felt a tear fill the bottom of my eye as I boarded the plane. I quickly choked it back. I didn't want anyone asking questions.

I took my seat. It was next to the window. At least I wouldn't have to get up for every obnoxious person who decided to use the restroom every 15 minutes.

A young man and a woman who I assumed to be his mother sat next to me.

"Hi." He smiled at me. I wasn't used to that. I didn't like it when people smiled at me, or spoke to me. Everyone I had been around knew that already. So his perfectly normal social reaction took me aback.

As much as I didn't like it, I still had manners.

"Hi." I said back sheepishly. My own voice was barely recognizable. I hadn't spoken much since my mother had died.

Well, since my mother was murdered.

"Where are you headed?" He was still smiling. It was obvious to me that he wasn't going to stop talking for a while. I took a deep breath.

"Some town called Forks. It's pretty close to…" He decided this was a good time to cut me off.

"Forks? Really? I know where that is! I've lived there my whole life!" His enthusiasm was sure to put a damper on my already bleak mood. I couldn't even be rude to him, because I would most likely see him again.

I didn't know much about forks except for that it's tiny.

"Cool." I answered trying to keep my replies short, to give him the hint.

"I'm Mike." He held out his hand.

I immediately jumped back as much as the small space would allow.

"Oh. Umm….I don't…touch…people." I said to him trying not to show the illogical fear I had of this stranger.

"I'm sorry." He looked absolutely confused, and almost hurt. "And you are?" His goofy smile returned. I thought I'd scared him off, I'd wished I scared him off.

"Bella." I looked down. "But I'm a nervous flyer, so I'm going to try and get some sleep. Nice meeting you." I spoke quickly as I lied about both things.

"Okay. Nice meeting you, too." He replied.

I quickly turned so he couldn't see me and gazed out the window. I stayed there for the whole two hours and watched as brown slowly turned to green.

We landed in Seattle right on time.

I pretended to wake up from the shaking when the tires hit the ground.

I didn't want anyone to try and wake me up.

As soon as Mike saw me awake, he immediately smiled at me. I was glad he didn't try and strike up another conversation.

The seatbelt light went off, and I waited until everyone was headed out the door before I stood up and grabbed my things. I didn't like people being behind me, it made me nervous.

I walked over to the baggage claim and saw my familiar suitcase blending in on the circuit. I grabbed it and sighed.

I looked around aimlessly. I had no idea what my Father looked like.

The man I assume to be my father came up behind me and picked up my bags. We silently walked to the parking lot where he put them in the back of his cruiser. I never knew my father was a police officer.

He gave me a genuinely friendly smile. He seemed nice enough.

"You don't talk, do you?" He asked me, it almost seemed as if it made him sad. Maybe he feels guilty for never trying to see me. I didn't hate him for it, I had actually never thought much about it.

"Not a lot." I said so quietly, it was barely above a whisper.

Every syllable uttered burned my throat ever since it happened.

I feel guilty that I am still here, able to breath and speak, and she is not.

Two weeks ago I came home and my mom and Phil, who was her husband were fighting. They always fought, that wasn't unusual.

there was something different about this time though, he was more drunk than usual, louder than usual, more violent that usual.

I saw him pull out a knife, I was going to run and try and save my mother, but she motioned for the pantry.

So that's where I went, I hid in the pantry like a coward, watching through the slits as Phil sliced up my own mother, and watched her bleed on the floor.

I should have moved, but instead I quietly called 911 from my cell phone.

By the time the ambulance arrived, it was much too late, she was already dead.

Phil was missing, and I was the only witness. Scared and shaking they took me to my aunt's house.

I knew I wouldn't stay there long, she didn't have much money, and we never got along anyway.

She somehow managed to track down my biological father whom I had never met, and after some court paperwork he agreed to take custody of me.

So here I am, almost a thousand miles away from home. Moving in with these perfect strangers that I have nothing in common with other than the blood in my veins.

A father and a brother that I hadn't ever thought much about.

I didn't even know I had a brother at all until three days ago.

People back home say that they'll miss me, that they're sorry about what happened, but at least I'm going to live with family.

But they're not my family. My only family is dead.

I felt the familiar sensation of angst and anxiety wash over me as we pulled up to a small house outside of the woods.

I looked around. Could this ever really be my home?

A/N: There it is! I'll post again tomorrow…I have the first five chapters lined up. Review? I love you all…and once again..I'm SOOOOOO sorry it's late. Also...if you read my last story you know that the chapters get much longer as the story develops...so no worries.