I would just like to say that I called it "Midnight" to stick with the whole sky theme that Stephenie uses for the real books.

Last warning: CRACK.

I'd given a lot of thought as to how I would die. I figured I should, dating a vampire and all. At first it was sexy fantasies about him draining my blood in the sack. Then it was his snapping my neck in the sack. Just wrecking me in the sack. This...was not how I figured I would go.

I stared across the room into the horny eyes of the director. He looked lustfully back at me. Surely it was a good way to die, on the bed of a porn star. Famous, even. I knew that if I made it out of this alive, I would be the leading character if every male's fantasies.

I should explain. That director over there? He's a vampire. That porn star over there? Vampire. My boyfriend? Vampire. Me? Human. How did I end in such a twisted situation? In the heart shaped vibrating bed filled with love stains. Well...It all started in Forks.

Chapter One

First Sight.

My mom drove me to the airport. The windows were down, cooling my hot skin. I fingered the strap of my bikini top as I stared outside. The sky was a perfect cloudless blue. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, Arizona. I loved the heat. My bed is even in a fire. Or should I say, was.

"Cover yourself up, Bella." Mom scolded. She handed me my parka. I begrudgingly up it on and then continued my brooding stare outside.

"Goodbye beautiful sun. Goodbye beautiful sky. Goodbye beautiful warm air. Goodbye–"

Mom swerved into a parking space dangerously. "You don't have to leave, Bella." I could hear the pleading tone in her voice, though. She wanted me to go. She was, what? In her fifties now and she just go remarried to this guy named Phil.

"I want to." I said. My lie was completely obvious but she didn't seem to notice it. I was moving in with my dad that I barely talk to. He lives in Forks. Yeah, I've never heard of it either. My mom wanted me to go live in Forks because she had sex...constantly. I mean, my God! I do her laundry and I see cum stains everywhere. I was cleaning her room and found vibrators, muzzles, corsets, leather, chains, whips, rope, handcuffs, I even found an expensive looking camera. And lets not forget the mirrors glued to the wall.

Phil – step-dad, remember? – thought he would strike it rich by hitting a ball with a bat. I think he's crazy. He tells my mom that he was playing baseball, but he was really hunting vampires. Color me amused. This is Arizona, Phil. You aren't going to find any vampires here under the sun.

...Which was why he was going with me.

Then why does my mom want me to move out then? She's cheating on Phil with some fat Italian guy who owns a pizza place. And our neighbor. The mail man, that hobo down the street. Oh, and that chick from her book reading club. But Phil is none the wiser. I mean, he's out all hours of the night.

Phil grabbed his suitcase and carry on. And I followed him.

"Bella!" mom called, running over to me. "You forgot your bikini bottom."

Whoops. I thanked her and slipped it back on. I took my parka off (it was my carry on) and slipped my flip flops on while hauling my suitcase.

"Phily?" Mom asked as he started to go through security. "Phily Willy? Can I have some money?"

He pulled his wallet out and shoved it in her hands. I rolled my eyes and leaned against thin air, then fell backwards. Ouch. I stood back up and watched as the searcher looked through the contents of his carry on. He picked up the stake with a raised eyebrow.

"I carve."

He looked at the garlic and the holy water.

"I like...garlic...and I uh...am the priest at a Catholic church."

"Oh, sorry, Father." he apologized. "Sir, I'm going to have to search your suitcase for little boys."

Phil nodded. "Of course." he handed his suitcase over and the man picked up a lacy piece of underwear. "I'm a cross dresser."

He nodded.

I gaped. "Those are mine!" Phil had the decency to look sheepish. He handed them back as I scowled. We boarded the plane in twenty minutes.

"Tell Charlie I said," Renée licked her lips slowly and jabbed the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

I nodded and saluted her. "Will do." Those were are last words as I walked onto the plane.

Phil shoved me out of the way. "I call window seat!"

I glared at him as I sat down in the middle seat. I tried to pout and brood as I looked out the window, but Phil was too busy being a retard. I folded my arms and put on my, 'piss off' look. It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle. Then another hour to a small plane to Port Angeles. That's not what bothered me though. What bothered me with the hour ride in the car to Forks with my Dad, Charlie. And lets not forget Sir Drools A Lot.

Charlie had been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely happy that I decided to come to Forks upon my own freewill. Freewill my ass. If your room was right next to your sex deviant mother who rattled your walls with the headboard banging against her own room, you would get the hell out of there also. I used to visit Charlie every Christmas, but actually seeing snow outside my window had made me depressed. I flat out refused to go to that Hellhole anymore and told him if he wants to see me, he can get his ass to Arizona.

You probably wonder why my mom and Charlie split up. You see, when I was young, well...

"Oh, God! Billy! Don't stop!"

Don't stop what? I had wondered. Billy Black had been my father's best friend. They fished a lot together and made me babysit his annoying little bastard child of a son. His two older sisters were too busy trying to screw – ahem, I mean kiss Sam Uley. The point being, Billy and Charlie were great friends. Watched football, made me entertain his son. Did cook outs, entertained his son. I mean, you would think Billy and Charlie were gay together or something. Even I thought, Daddy gave up his princess for a prince! Until, of course...that God forsaken night.

I had been in my room. I was only five and Jacob (the bastard child) was three. He was gnawing on my Barbie doll's head until I took my pillow and whacked him with it. Then he was crying. Whatever, earlier mom had come in saying that I needed to watch him while her and Billy had some "grown up time." I had shrugged it off, still too pissed that I was stuck with Jacob. I was trying to shut up a crying Jake when I heard...

"Oh, God! Billy! Don't stop!"

Five minutes later when Charlie came home I ran downstairs and said, "Daddy, Daddy! I think Uncle Billy is hurting Mommy! He's on top of her naked and she's all red in the face!" Charlie stood there in shock before he walked upstairs, pulled Billy off his wife by his long ass Indian-Hippy hair and paralyzed him from the waist down. However, none of the cops knew that because Charlie was a cop himself. He had connections. And Billy had a wheelchair. Needless to say, Billy and Charlie had a falling out.

"Bells! Over here!" Charlie called as I got off the plane. I looked for his mustache and finally found him. "Bella, I would like you to meet, your new Mommy!"

Phil clasped Charlie on the back. "Nice 'stache, dude."

"Uh, thanks. Anyway, Bella, this is Stacy."

I rolled my eyes. "That's a blow up doll, Dad. By the way, Mom says she misses giving you head." Charlie looked flustered and ushered the two of us out to his police cruiser. Phil giggled excitedly as he sat in the back of the car. He thought it was an honor, Charlie just hated his guts.

"You haven't changed much." he noticed. "How's Renée?"

"Still a whore."

And that was our conversation.

"Found you a dirt-ass-cheap car. Big, ugly. Red, attention attracting." he said after some time.

"Thanks. Where'd you get it?"

"Billy Black. Remember him?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You still talk to him?"

"I say we're even after I screwed his wife and beat his face in."

"How is his wife?"


I stared outside. It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It was too green — an alien planet.

This was going to be fun.

Charlie pulled into his driveway. He helped me with my light suitcase. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and I finally noticed his beer gut. I took it from him and his eyes widened to saucers.

"Bells...you're, uh, you're in a bikini."

I rolled my eyes. "Duh, Dad. Everyone wheres bikinis."

He took the suitcase from me and unzipped it. "Bells, there's nothing in here."

"I don't own clothes. In Arizona, we all were bikinis."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to go shopping."

"You," I corrected. "You will be going shopping. Oh, pick me up some tampons while you're at it, will ya? I'm on the rag."

I didn't wait for a response and walked into the house. My fingers trailed across the shelves and I casually knocked over the pictures of me in elementary and middle school. I climbed the stairs and sat on my twin sized bed.

"Blue." Charlie said, dropping my suitcase to the ground. "You like blue, right?"


"Well, uh, Phil will be bunking with you. Sorry about the inconvenience." he unhooked Phil's handcuffs and shoved him in the room. I pointed towards the doggy bed in the corner and Phil bounced towards it, nuzzling the soft plush. I stripped out of my bikini as Phil stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"I sleep in the nude."

However, I didn't sleep very well that night. Phil kept trying to cop a feel and all I could hear was Charlie getting it on with 'Stacy'.

I screamed bloody murder when I got a good look outside in the morning. Thick, white air coated the sky. Charlie burst open the door and threw a blanket over me before asking me what was wrong.

"Mother nature is attacking us!" I pointed towards the haze.

Charlie sighed. "That's fog, Bells."

"Fog?" I asked, confused. What is fog? He shook his head, not even attempting to explain what the hell a fog was. I walked out of the room in my blanket. "Dad? I need some clothes."

He walked out and handed me a bundle of cloth. "Here, these were your mother's."

I shrugged and walked in the shower, dropping my blanket and putting it on the warmest temperature. When I got out I let myself air dry as I walked around the house before I slipped on the clothes. These were obviously from the '80s. I was dressed in leg warmers and a hot pink mini skirt with an off the shoulder blue shirt. I threw my long hair in a pony tail and punched Phil in the face as a farewell.

My car was an ugly truck. It was big, humongous. The paint was chipping and you could point out at least five rust spots from ten different views of the car. I climbed in, having to hoist myself up by the leather seats. It wasn't hard to find the school. Especially since there was a huge neon sign that read, "Yo! Dumbass! Forks High, right here!"

It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like a dumbass.

Inside the building, it looked like the '70s drank too much booze and threw up in the office. It was brightly lit with florescent lighting. A little waiting area with padded folding chairs, ugly shag brownish-orange-yellow carpet. And to top it off, an older women with wild curly red hair that looked like the pubic variety. She was sweating profusely, obviously getting all hot and bothered while reading her smutty trashy romance novel with Fabio on the cover.

"Does the carpet match the drapes?" I asked casually.

She looked up. "Scram."

"I'm Isabella Swan."

Mrs. Cope, by the writing on her name tag, glared at me. "Tell your whore of a mother I want my money back."

"Too late. I think she spent your sexy time money on buying herself some Voldka." I replied. "I need my schedule."

She handed me a laminated piece of psychedelic paper and then a map. "Have your teachers sign this sheet." she explained while handing me another slip.

"Tell your mom she has an STD!" she called as I walked out the door.

"She already knows." I shot back. I got back into my car, it started with a gunshot. I parked in the student's lot and noticed that my car wasn't the only piece of shit. In Phoenix it wasn't uncommon to see the student's parents buy their kid a Mercedes or a Porsche to get them to shut the fuck up. The only semi-new car was a grandpa's car; a shiny silver Volvo. Who in their right mind would drive a Volvo?

I flipped my dark hair over my shoulder and strutted towards the school, only tripping three times. Did I mention I was a klutz? No? I'm a klutz. I headed towards the third building that would be for my English class. Everyone else was wearing ugly ass parkas too.

I tripped over the air above me as I walked up to the teacher. Mr. Mason looked up from his playboy.

"Nice tits. Sit over there."

I gave him the slip to sign and then walked over to the seat he pointed to when he returned the paper. I looked over the reading list he gave me. Fairly basic; Clifford the Big Red Dog: Goes to School, Dora the Explorer: Goes to School, Blues Clues: Goes to School, and Sesame Street: Grover Goes to School!

When the bell rang a gangly boy with skin problems walked up to me. He leaned against my desk, smiling.

"Bella Swan, right?" he asked. I nodded. He pulled out a card from his pocket. "Give this to your mom, will you?" I took the card from him and threw it in the trash on my way out. I walked to my next class and by the end of the class I could detect a pattern. A brave soul would walk up to me and ask to deliver a message to my mother. Apparently, she was well known for being the town slut. One of those souls was a short girl with curly brown hair. Although, yes, she heard the sexy news about my whore of a mother, she was also interested in me, not that way, well, actually yes. But also she was searching for a route to make her popular. Apparently that was me.

"Hi! I'm–" Blah, blah, Blah. Blah, blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. "Do you want to sit with me at lunch today?"


She furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"Yeah, whatevez."

"Yay!" she squealed. She pulled me towards lunch and I had to resist the urge to tape her mouth. We sat at a table with several of her friends.

In that lunchroom was when I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in theroom. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They were all very...good looking. Understatement, I would bone any of them. There was a tall blonde girl who I would bone. The bulky dark haired man, who I would bone. The blond that looked like he was constipated, after making him take some laxatives, I would bone. The short, innocent looking girl, I would bone. Lastly, the loner with the auburn hair. I would wreck him!

"Who are they?" I asked.

Jessica didn't bother looking up. "The Cullens. The bitch looking one and the dude who's on steroids, they're together. And then the witchy short girl and the man who looks like he needs to take a crap, they're together too. Their parents can't have kids or something, so they're all like, ya know, adopted. 'Cept the blonds, they're twins or something. Esme Cullen – the mom – would be the blonds aunts."

Angela glared. "They have names, Jess. The red head is Edward. Muscles, Emmett. The blonde girl, Rosalie. Short girl, Alice. The blond guy is Jasper."

"I would suggest you don't date Edward, though," a snobby blonde said, "He's," she sniffled, "Just...not good, okay?" she started to burst in tears, something about Edward chomping on her neck, I don't know.

My next class was Biology. I heard from Lauren – Edward's stalker – that his next class was also Biology. I lay sprawled out on the desk that Mr. Banner pointed me to.

"Hi, Edward," I greeted. I flipped over on my stomach, my boobs flowing out of my off the shoulder '80s top. His eyes grew dark with lust, right? He smiled at me and I noticed exactly how pointy his teeth were. He leaned forward and inhaled my scent. I knew this perfume was a good choice. I giggled. He pulled back and glared at me. Bipolar much? I leaped off the table and into his lap. "I'm Bella!"

He pushed me off him and I fell onto the floor. I gaped, tears springing into my eyes. How could he deny me? I sat in my chair, willing the tears not to fall. The class was quiet between the two of us, Edward giving me the cold shoulder. No, seriously, it was really cold around his shoulder. So cold that icky wet snow was drifting off it.

I edged away from him and let my hair curtain my face. As soon as the bell rang, I looked over to find Edward gone. I furrowed my eyebrows and stood up, going to gym. Coach Clapp gave me a uniform and directed me towards the changing rooms. I managed to trip over the basketball net that hung on the wall. I knocked over three kids, whacked someone in the head, killed a man, and gave someone a sprained ankle. You know, the usual.

When I got home Charlie had ordered pizza because he had jack shit in his cupboards. Phil was out of the house by sun set, carrying a stake and holy water, a necklace of garlic hung around his shoulders. I got on the computer in my room, waiting four hours for it to load to my email. I delivered the messages to my mother and then went off to bed.

Hovered under the covers in the nude, I cried. I cried tears of pain. Because Edward wouldn't bone me.