Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight
My name is Isabella Swan. I had a rough past and I will probably have a rough future. But the most important feature that you need to know about me is that I am a secret agent. Not only do I attend the very prestigious Meyer Academy for training future undercover agents, I am also the best. But that's getting ahead, why don't I start from the beginning.
I grew up in Phoenix with my mother Renee and my father Charlie. I was constantly beaten by my drunk father and my mother would come home from work only to yell at me for doing something wrong and then continue to tell me how hideous I was. And she was right, I always believed her, from my plain brown hair that went from my mid-waist, to my eyes which were the same dull brown. I lived them until I was 14 years old; my father continued to beat me (always making sure to not touch my face so that no one would suspect anything) and my mother continued punishing me, telling me that she regretted having me and that I was a spoiled brat that was lucky to have someone as nice as her as a mother.
Going to school wasn't much better, I was constantly ridiculed for how ugly I was, I came to only wearing sweatpants and t-shirts to school (not that much of the other clothing that Renee buys me is much better). Girls would accidentally "trip" during lunch and spill the contents of their trays all over me; they would call me a nerd and a geek and occasionally even hit me. Because of that I spent most of my time in the library. My friends were my books, because they were the only ones that never judged or yelled at me. I used to have a friend, her name was Angela. We went to the same middle school and she was nice to me. Everything changed when we first stepped foot in high school. Apparently the popular girls thought that she was popular material and worthy of following them around like a helpless puppy. They gave her a choice, either she could join them and humiliate me everyday, or get humiliated with me. Although with my luck I should have expected it, it still hurt when the one person I thought was my friend stabbed me in the back and joined very people who made it their job to make my life a living hell. However, all that changed on my fourteenth birthday.
It had been raining that day, which was unusual in Arizona. The fact that it was my birthday either didn't matter to my parents or they completely forgot. It was a Saturday night and my parents were going out to dinner, leaving me to fend for myself for the night. This was nothing new to me, thus making me a very good cook at a very young age. My parents were going out to a very fancy restaurant, celebrating the promotion that my father had recently received. I was heating up some leftover mushroom ravioli when the lights went out. Wow, I didn't know the storm was this bad I thought to myself. With that, I went to the closet that I get to call my bedroom and went to sleep on the piles of pillows and blankets that were on the ground. Soon after laying down I was in a deep sleep.
The real surprise was the next morning when I actually woke up on my own instead of the usual screaming of Renee at 5:30 in the morning. I thought that maybe that was my birthday present, instead of pushing my luck and staying in bed for a few more hours like my body longed for, I got up to start making breakfast for my parents like they make me do every morning.
However, to my utter surprise and joy, the kitchen was empty. Maybe they're still sleeping? My thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door, thinking that maybe it was my parents coming home extremely late; I was surprised instead to see a police officer standing on my doorstep with a grim expression on his face. This made me frantic, thinking that somehow word had gotten out about Charlie abusing me. He would kill me if I told anyone, so the sight of a policeman was not very welcoming to me. What he said next though stopped my mind in it's tracks.
"Are you Isabella Swan?" He asked. I simply nodded my head, too afraid to say anything. "I am very sorry to say that last night your parents were in a terrible car accident…they didn't make it"
I was frozen. He must have thought that I was too depressed to speak from the way I must have looked. Instead of feeling sorrow and grief that any normal child with loving parents would feel, the only thing that was going through my mind was I'm free…I'm finally free! He continued to tell me that since I wasn't old enough to collect the money that was left to me, I was to be put in foster care. It didn't matter to me, anything was better then what I had now.
I spent three years in foster care, no one ever adopted me probably thinking that I wasn't as pretty or smart as the others that came and went. I was perfectly fine with it though, I was left alone. The brave ones that tried to talk to me, the scary girl that never talked to anyone, soon figured out that I wasn't worth it and left me alone before they too were adopted and moved on. It didn't take me long to figure out that no one wanted me and that I was meant for a life filled with solitude. No one would ever love me and I soon gave up believing that someone would actually want me as a daughter.
One day, a man came into the facility looking for someone to adopt. The other kids in my building were about my age, some older, some younger; however none of them had been in there for as long as I had. He talked to a lot of the other kids, I simply stayed by myself pretending to read my book while actually listening to their conversation. I discovered that his name was Marcus and that he was originally from Italy. However, I soon grew bored of their conversation and went back to reading Pride and Prejudice. A few chapters later I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I looked up quickly into the eyes of the man that I learned to be called Marcus.
To say that I was astonished would be an understatement. No one, and I mean a no one ever bothered to talk to me.
"Hello, my name is Marcus, what do I have the pleasure of calling you?" he asked.
After a quick pause to make sure that it was indeed me he was talking to and not some other kid I was sitting near I answered, "Isabella, but most people call me Bella" It came out quietly in a monotone that basically screamed that I really didn't feel like talking, I half expected him not to hear me. Other adults had tried talking to me but soon found out that I was obviously not the kid for them. Oftentimes I felt the grim satisfaction when I would overhear them speaking about my eyes and how they were afraid I would attack them or something.
After a few more questions about me, he seemed to be satisfied and rose to talk to Clara, the woman in charge. While pretending to read my book, I kept my eyes on the mysterious man. Something he said seemed to shock Clara for she gasped and glanced in my direction before her eyes returned to Marcus's face. I read her lips, actually interested in the conversation now Are you sure? He simply just nodded in response.
I soon found out that the man actually wanted to adopt me! This came as a shock to not only me (Not that I showed it), but the kids who had been there long enough to know that the chances of that happening were slim to none.
A few days later I was following him out of the building, carrying only a backpack filled with the few possessions I had: some torn up books, a few saved up dollars and a sweatshirt.
It didn't take Marcus long to explain to me what the real reason for adopting me was. He was a recruiter for Meyer Academy, a top secret spy school. He goes all over the country in search of people my age who seem right for the job. He told me about how he had a very good feeling about me, that I would accomplish great things.
When I first stepped foot in Meyer Academy, I was astounded. Sure Marcus prepared me for all the high tech futuristic technology that was required to simply get into the school. But he didn't tell me about the size of it! It was fantastic, their must have been at least 10 floors that stood in the middle of no where. Meyer Academy resided in California near the central valley. People that were not aware of it being a prestigious spy school simply thought that it was a school for snooty rich kids. You were required to endure five years of classes at Meyer, including courses on computer technology and physical combat. I made up one of the thirty first years to be attending that year. Everything was just as new to me as it was to them, however after a short amount of time it was quite obvious that I would go much further.
Only after completing all five years of training could an undergrad go on actual missions. I was the only exception in all of the universities existence to that rule. I managed to complete five years of training in just one and a half. I surpassed other students and even teachers when it came to physical combat. No matter whether they were male or female, I managed to take them down in no time flat; I have yet to find someone that could pose as an actual challenge to me. Even when it came to technology, I am the fastest hacker known throughout the university and some even think the country. I had designed and built the entire security system for the school that stop and identify an intruder before they even blink.
I am a living legend that other students either admire or fear. It's mostly the latter when it came to the students who were in the lower classes then I am. I'm cold and unstoppable, I let my hatred for the life I used to live fuel my fighting and motivation. I was impenetrable, still seeing myself as the ugly duckling that my mother always claimed me as. I had no friends and spent all of my time training and practicing. I was the perfect killer, nothing could phase me and because I didn't care about anything no one could use it against me.
All of the other students avoid me; they part like the red sea in the hallways silently watching as I pass by. I do nothing to provoke this, I'm simply not like them, and I accept that. I have no friends; I don't trust anyone, especially after what happened with Angela. My life circulated like this throughout my first two years at Meyer Academy. My third year is bound to be different though, seeing as I already know everything there is to know.
A/N: Please read and Review!