If only I knew…what I know today…

I would hold you in my arms

I would take the pain away

Thank you for all you've done

Forgive all your mistakes

There's nothing I wouldn't do

To hear your voice again

Sometimes I wanna call you

But I know you won't be there

I'm sorry for….blaming you

For everything

I just couldn't do

And I've hurt myself

By hating you


She hit the button on her ipod, shutting up Christina Aguilera and her god damned song. Why does she have to sound so damn real when she sings this ?

Pop stars didn't have this kind of pain, did they, really? Wasn't this just some song another real person wrote and she just stepped in and sang the lyrics? How could anyone with beauty, money, and her voice ever have problems like mine? Pain like mine.

It wasn't Christine's fault.

The words were good. Every time she heard this song, she sang to her father. Her dead father. Fallen angel, Charlie Swan, tragic hero, slain by his own hand.

Because of me, his only daughter.

Stop being a chicken shit and listen to the rest. Toughen up. Okay, I'll be tough. I'll have to be today. First day at a new school. Again.

Another doctor who thought he could help lived here in Forks. He somehow heard her story on the internet and paid her way here, along with room and board at this little bed and breakfast close to town. He did write a nice letter, though, she had to admit. She'd get to meet him tomorrow at his office.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen. She would once more be some doctor's charity case. Ten other doctors claimed they could fix her legs. To earn glory for themselves, she knew now.

Ten failed and shrugged their shoulders, walking away muttering their apologies. Then she would go live in a foster home, where she was never really wanted. How many times would she fall for this ? What was this doctor going to do that the rest couldn't?

Why do I keep hoping ? This world sucks.

She hit the play button, wiping her wet eyes and placing her glasses back on, the room clearer now. It was a blank room, nothing on the walls, only a bed, desk and dresser giving her the necessities. Charlie had given her the ipod last year, before the accident.

Nice times. Everything was perfect then. Her room used to be like every other teenager's, posters of boys and bands all over the walls, toenail polish stain on the rug, a ringing phone.

Her life today was unrecognizable to her as she stood, steadying herself on her one steel crutch as she looked at herself in the full length mirror on the inside of her bedroom door.

Christine sang in the background just then, saying:

Would you tell me I was wrong

Would you help me understand

Are you looking down upon me

Are you proud of who I am ?

There's nothing I wouldn't do

To have just one more chance

To look into your eyes

And see you looking back

Tears were released from her eyes as she blinked, hating her reflection.

Her hair was a curly long mane of black tangles that always served to cover her face, that wore those awful black glasses she couldn't trade in, (or lose) and her clothes were so ugly she wanted to vomit. A big bulky sweater was all she could find to cover her extra big hips and stomach, though, and her jeans were ripped and had a brownish stain near the bottom of her right leg.

Even her shoes were horrible, but they had to be comfortable ever since she needed her crutch. They were like black old lady shoes.

Remember sexy high heels, Bella ?

Nothing on her looked even remotely girly or feminine…or pretty. She didn't blame kids for laughing at her in school, in fact she had learned to expect it. But, when she thought of her father and that line from the song about him being proud of who she was, it killed her inside.

I miss you so much, Dad. I needed you. Why ?

She never thought of herself as beautiful before the accident, but she thought maybe she was kinda pretty, in a plain way. She didn't have a smoking body but she was thin, average built. After the accident, the medicine and the lack of exercise made her body blow up. It seemed to happen overnight, when she wasn't looking.

Someday, when she was able to, she vowed she'd jog or join a gym. She would see lots of women who were large and attractive and she envied them. But her weight made her look sloppy, in her eyes. It was impossible right now to do anything about it. Damn waiting. She hated it. She knew she had no patience.

It will take time, everyone had said to her, to heal. To walk right. To lose the weight. To forget the pain. To forgive her father. To say goodbye. To make a life for herself.

Don't think about all this shit now. You have to go to school and be humiliated all day. Don't wanna keep the kids waiting. They're in for some fun today. Laugh at the ugly, fat new girl, look at the way she wobbles when she walks. DAMN IT ! Get it over with. After a few days, they'll forget you and then you'll just be invisible to all of them. Don't forget the rules, don't make eye contact with anyone. Don't talk to anyone. Don't let anyone talk you into sitting with them at lunch. Don't make any friends. Don't like any of them. Don't even think about looking at cute boys. Just keep your head down and do your school work, then get out. Repeat the next day…and the next.

I'm Isabella Swan. Today is my first day at Forks High School.

See next chapter please !