Okay, so this is my first story on here and I have the first five chapters already written. Chapter 6 is a working progress and this story will be stretched out more than just a few chapter hopefully. Message and review with your thoughts or ideas. This story is dedicated to my friend "Mickey", the Yoda of reading who convinced me to put this out.

-Lexi xoxo

Chapter 1: Discovery

The downpour continued as always on the roof of our little house. The sound was dreary and repetitive. I live with my mother, Renee in this little house. She adopted me when I was 6 and her husband Charlie was still alive. Then, we lived a little better but since his passing we have been struggling for every bit of money.

I'm 17 and I attend a girl's school which is the main expense in our house. Renee insisted that she didn't mind working as long as I was going to school. The worst part about it though, is that we struggle to get by. At my age of 17, being hungry, depressed, over-loaded with chores and tired are normalities. The pressure was on me to break our circle of poverty. At least it was until he came.

I had awoken to the rain dripping into pans on the floor. Drip, drip, drip, drip... There was no way I was getting back to sleep. It was Saturday morning which meant that it was my house cleaning day. Sunday was a day of rest for the most part. I knotted the ends of a bandana together and used it to push back my hair.

In my worn t-shirt and cut-off grey sweats I started with the dishes and swept the floor. It was 7:38 a.m. when I checked the clock and remembered that I had to get the garbage to the curb before 8, so I decided to get it done and over with. I grabbed a bag in each hand, opened the door and headed into the downpour.

At the end of our narrow drive, there was a heap of something in the muddy mess. As I moved forward, I eliminated the possibility of it being a dog because it was too big. I got closer and closer when it groaned. I dropped the bags in surprise and continued forward without them, squinting through the dark.

I stepped cautiously close to it and realized with amazement that it was a person. My mind was running a hundred miles an hour when it finally clicked on what I should do. Bring the trash to the road and attempt to bring this man inside.

The trash was dropped and forgotten as I turned my attention to the human heap, trying to figure out how to get him up. I brushed his hair away from his face and in the semi-darkness I could see the heavy bruising and dried blood trailing from his nose and mouth. I took hold of his shoulders and lifted them up so he was slouched over in some variation of a sitting position.

Through much manoeuvring I had him bent over my shoulder and I was stumbling under his weight back to the house. I brought him up the stairs to my room and laid him on the bed. The couch downstairs wouldn't have been big enough for him and now judging by the size of him on my bed, he was around 5'8" – 5'10". He had to be because he would definitely be taller than my 5'6".

I realized that both of us were drenched and he was cold to the touch so I pulled my thick comforter over him and proceeded to my closet to find some dry clothes for myself. I turned my back to him and stripped off my sopping wet t-shirt. I guessed that he would be out of it for the next two hours so he wouldn't see any of this.

I pulled on a sports bra and dry underwear and shorts. He shifted a bit and coughed. I turned around with a t-shirt in my hands. His eyes lazily opened before closing and he coughed again. I really hoped he didn't remember that as I pulled on the shirt.

I remembered that he was still in his wet clothes and pulled back the comforter. First, I unbuttoned and removed his dirty shirt. I examined his torso quickly and saw two large slashes across his muscular chest, but not deep. I ran my hand across his chest and he groaned in pain when my hand pressed against his ribs. There must be a broken rib or two.

Then, I was presented with the challenge of his pants. After much manoeuvring, my mystery guy was in is boxers and I wrapped the blanket back around him. I brought our clothes downstairs to be washed and then went into the bathroom to gather the things I needed.

When I returned his eyes were opening and closing again. They were a beautiful colour of emerald green. As I came closer, his emerald orbs focused in on me and he coughed again.

"Are you alright? Can you speak?" I asked, placing a glass of water down on the side table along with my supplies.

"I've felt better, I think," he replied in a hoarse whisper.

"Do you have a headache?"

He nodded and I got up to retrieve a pill from my medicine cabinet.

"Here, take this and you should feel better in a while," I said, holding out the glass of water and the pill in the other hand.

"I can't," he whispered out again.

"What do you mean?" I asked incredulously.

"My left hand and my right wrist. I think they're broken or sprained. My ribs are killing me too." He looked up to me and then back down. "Sorry that I'm complaining," he apologized.

"No, it's fine. I need to know what's wrong. Take the pill then I'll hold the water for you while you drink. I'll look at your hand and wrist in a minute, but first things first." I was moderately clumsy and had landed myself in the hospital many times so I knew standard procedure for breaks and sprained and cuts easily. Renee had suggested that I should become a doctor because I already knew a lot about medicine.

"Are you a doctor? What's your name?" he asked more clearly in a velvety voice after taking a draught of water to swallow the pill.

"No, I'm not a doctor, but I've been to see them enough to know what I'm doing. I'm Bella. Bella Masen."

"Bella..." he seemed to be musing as I opened up the rubbing alcohol and put some on a cotton pad.

"How about you? What's your name?" I asked. "This might sting a bit," I warned. I dabbed the pad against a gash on his face that ran along his temple.

He sucked in a deep breath at the touch, "Something that starts with an 'E' I think."

I stopped and looked down at him. "What do you mean 'I think'? You don't know?"

"Quite honestly, I have no idea who I am, where I am or how I got here. I thought you would've known but apparently you are just as clueless as I am." He looked into my eyes and then back to the ceiling and grunted in frustration.

"What's wrong?"

"Now I'm mentally kicking myself for not knowing my own name. It's very degrading."

"Maybe I could guess and it might come to you?"

He nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. There aren't really any other options as far as I see."

"True. Hmmm... Let's think... Ethan?"





"Wait. I don't think that's it but I think I know someone with that name," he said and he now had a look of concentration on his face. "I don't know. Go ahead."

"Umm... Ezekiel?"

"Definitely not," he laughed.


"Say it again," he said instantly.

"Edward?" I asked almost unsure.

"Say it kind of slow and a little more quietly." I looked at him with a puzzled expression but complied.

"Edward," I breathed his possible name in his ear.

"Holy shit..." he muttered under his breath.

"What?" I was concerned now.

"Are you sure I didn't know you before?" He looked at me with burning eyes. "I'm almost convinced that I've died and met an angel because this seems like a dream."

"Okay, one, I've never seen you before this morning when I found you at the end of my driveway, lying in the mud and rain. Second, if this is a dream, for your sake you should hope you wake up real soon and third, I'm not an angel. I can tell you for a fact that you're not dead and if anything, you're in a limbo between hell and earth."

I went back to dabbing at the cut on his face and got the butterfly stitches from my side table and stuck them on the cut along his temple to close it up. I used a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his nose and then from his lips when his eyes closed.

"Are you tired, Edward? Is that your name?"

"No, that just feels good. You hands are very soft and warm. I think it is. It sounds right." He leaned his head into the palm of my hand.

"So, do you have any hint on what your last name might be?" I asked as I carefully took his right arm in my hands and felt up his arm.

"Masen?" he asked almost jokingly.

"You're funny. That's my last name. What's yours?"

"I don't know but Masen sounds good."

"Edward," I said sternly.

"Bella," he repeated my tone back.

"So you don't know your last name and you're just deciding to stick with mine?" I asked doubtfully.

"Pretty much," his velvety voice replied.

"You're crazy," I concluded. "I know you have amnesia but I didn't think you suffered from deliria too."

"I'm not delirious... or insane, at that. I just don't know. You're like my saviour. It's... it's hard to grasp that someone like you could be who you are," he rebutted and concluded.

"And pray tell, how do you know what I'm like?" I cocked my eyebrow and moved my fingers along his swollen wrist. "This is definitely broken." I started wrapping a tensor band around his right wrist and he gasped in pain a few times.

"Well, I know that you have to be somewhat good and kind, especially since you brought me into your home and from what it looks like, your own bed and you're tending my wounds with me asking you to and you're trying o help me figure out who I am. A cold-hearted person would've left me where I was to die."

"You were left to die," I reminded him as I pushed a piece of his bronze hair out of his eye.

"Not by you, Bella. Your name suits you, you know."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Bella is Italian for 'beautiful' and you are a beautiful woman," Edward complimented suavely.

"Right, and pigs fly," I rolled my eyes.

"Only when catapulted into the sky, though I don't recommend it seeing as I very much like my bacon and pork chops and such is hard to get when a pig is flying."

I laughed at the idiocy of his speech. Edward smiled and continued, "I have a feeling that you don't see yourself clearly, Bella."

"And I have a feeling that you are a flirt that charms girls in attempt to get brownie points," my incredulous look was thrown towards him as I finished wrapping his wrist. "So you said it was your left hand?" I inquired, looking into the green sea of his eyes.

"Yeah. Hurts like you wouldn't believe."

"I believe you," I barely audibly whispered.

So, this is my first FanFic and it would be great to get reviews. Message me about any issues or thoughts. I'm usually pretty good about my grammar and spelling but let me know if you have any problems with it. Feedback is appreciated.

You know you Love me,

but if you don't then...

Love to Hate me,

-Lexi xoxo