chapter 1 : closets

Doing homework on a Sunday night was definitely not my idea of fun.

Sitting with my head bent over my Trig homework eating what little was left of my sandwich from dinner - I almost tore out the hairs on my head, not at the homework, but from sheer, utter boredom. I wanted to draw or read instead of doing my stupid homework due tomorrow. It wasn't like I was going to need it for anything else than to handle my money. Pythagoras was not going to help me in that regard.

I let out a deep, frustrated sigh that echoed through the room. Everything seemed perfect in my life. Like one of those family portraits that reflected a different reality from the one actually happening. I had a great, loving family. I had some good friends and even a boyfriend. A roof over my head and food to eat every day.

But nothing felt perfect. Every day felt the same; get up, go to school, come home, do homework, sleep - rinse and repeat.

There was safety in repetition, I guess. But something was missing - I felt incomplete.

Once again I sighed, put my pen away, and gave up on the homework. My mind had already wandered, so what was even the point of continuing? Sometimes I wish my life could be like that of a character in a book, I thought. Life would be so much easier for me then. More exciting.

I shook my head and smiled a small smile. My mom would be scolding me for daydreaming if she came into my room and saw me. Lucky for me, she was sleeping soundly in her bed. It was late, and I had procrastinated up until she practically forced me to sit down by my desk and do the homework before I was allowed to go to bed.

Finally, I pushed back my chair and got out of my seat. I stretched my sore muscles, resulting in a crack in my neck. I wasn't tired, and my want to read was greater than I had initially thought. My feet inevitably guided me towards my bookshelf - the first thing to the left of my desk and I ran my hands over the backs of some of the books. There was Dickens, Brontë, Poe, Rowling, Harris, and many more and last but not least - Meyer.

Despite knowing that it was cheesy and not the healthiest love story, I didn't know what drew me into the story. A guess of mine was that it depicted a love that a simple human like me couldn't understand. Maybe it was so I could daydream of a way to fix it - make it healthier for Bella and Edward. Maybe I just yearned for something similar. For fairytales to be true, for a prince on a white horse to come and sweep me away from my utterly boring life....

I snorted. If only it were that easy. I was already in a relationship. And although part of me knew I wasn't happy with my boyfriend, breaking it off was not something I knew how to do. In the beginning, things had been amazing. Jack had been attentive, affectionate, and passionate. Then after the first week, it was like he changed. Every topic of conversation became about him, his friends, and his interests. Whenever we spoke of me, it was either to congratulate me on getting together with him or that I should work out to gain more muscle and curve. His girlfriend had to be hot like him.

Without wanting to, I rolled my eyes. Of course, I knew that Jack was attractive. His deep blue eyes, blonde-streaked hair, and tall, muscular body made a lot of girls at school swoon. It didn't hurt that he was tan too. I wasn't blind. He'd moved to Salem from a small town in Florida when his father was offered a job at the university here. He had been new and mysterious, and my heart had fluttered whenever he was near. Frankly, I hadn't thought I would be his type at all. But then suddenly we were dating, and here we were, three months later.

I did smile a little as I thought back at that first week. But it quickly disappeared again as other, newer memories replaced it. Jack trying to take me on a date - to McDonald's of all places. He brought me to his band practice - just to forget that I was there, and flirted with another girl who was present. Telling me not to spend so much time with my friends, just to ignore me whenever I wanted to spend time with him. When I finally dared to talk to him about it, he told me I was crazy and making things up. Of course, everything was just fine.

As if knowing I was thinking about him, Jack's familiar

ringtone on my cellphone filled my room. I leaned against

the hardwood of my bookshelf for support, before picking

up. Part of me had wanted to let it ring, but I knew Jack

would grill me tomorrow if I didn't.

"Hey Kath, are you there?" His husky and attractive voice asked. My eyes darted to the book I had taken into my hands before I had answered his call. I wished he would make it quick, so I could go back to reading. Why was he up at this hour anyway?

"What do you want?" I asked and was genuinely surprised by how tired and void of emotion my voice sounded. My hand clutched the book harder than before.

"Whoa there, sweetheart! Don't go emo on me just yet!" he joked, but I didn't laugh. It irritated me, that he never inquired about my wellbeing. That everything was always about him! He was supposed to love me, encourage me - make me feel safe, seen, and heard. Why was that so freaking hard for him?

Tears were threatening to fall on my cheeks by now. "Ha. Ha. That's so funny," I told him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Instead of making fun of me, could you pretend to actually care for once?"

Jack scoffed on the other end of the line. "Jesus woman! I make one joke, and you bite my head off. That time of the month already?"

I wanted to scream. The book was thrown onto my bed a little harder than I intended before I started pacing the room. "Can you for once take me and my feelings seriously? Everything is always a joke to you!" I growled. "It's always about you and what you want! What about me and how / feel? Or is that too much for your tiny man-brain to actually think about?"

The tears were now falling freely. I didn't want to hear his answer or whatever excuse he was going to hurl at me now. I wanted this conversation to be over. I wanted to never see or speak to him again.

Jack scoffed again and was about to speak but I beat him to it. "I don't think this is working anymore. We're done. Don't call me or talk to me again."

"Seriously babe! Take a chill-" I hung up on him before he could continue. Then I shut off my phone completely. Hopefully, he would get the message.

My blanket and pillow welcomed me with open arms, as I threw myself onto them. The tears wouldn't stop. I knew I had to break things off, but it still hurt. I looked at "Twilight" through blurry eyes. The hands holding the apple out for me to take. Why couldn't I have a love that cared about me?

Because most of what I dreamed of was fictional. Real boys were apparently different from what I wanted. Maybe I should just never date again. Then I wouldn't get my heart broken.

Finally after what seemed like ages - I opened the book and began to read.

- "I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."

"Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up." Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily look at his face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.

"It would be more... prudent of you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."

His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his voice was smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe."

- "Will you go with me to Seattle?" he asked, still intense.

I couldn't speak yet, so I just nodded.

He smiled briefly, and then his face became serious.

"You really should stay away from me," I read out loud. "/'// see you in-"

But I never finished the sentence. I was distracted by a noise coming from the closet on the other side of my room. For a moment I was scared to death and I felt my heart beat frantically inside my chest. Then I heard the muffled 'ows' and 'uffs' and realized that it was probably only my younger sister, Joanna, who was trying to play a prank on me. Why she would do so this late was a mystery to me.

"You can get out of the closet now Joe!" I called and went back to my book. But I didn't notice the words on the page, as I was waiting for the handle of my closet to turn and for my sister to walk out and stick her tongue out at me.

She never did.

At first, I was a little annoyed and called out to her once more to knock it off. This time the sounds turned quiet and somehow this made all the hairs on my arms stand up.

"Joe?" I called more nervously this time, but there was still no answer. Reluctantly I made my way towards the door of my closet and lightly touched the door handle. You can do this! I told myself. You're strong and brave!

Which then reminded me that Jack was currently "borrowing" my baseball bat. I was so going to kill him tomorrow.

My mind prepared itself for what might be behind the door, while I took a deep breath to calm myself. Then I quickly opened the door and turned on the closet lights. The sight that met me was not at all what I had been expecting. In front of me stood a girl, slightly smaller than me, with long, straight brown hair and deep chocolate brown eyes. I got the strange feeling that I had somehow seen her before...

"Um, hi," she said shyly and waved awkwardly. "I'm Bella-"

"Swan," I interrupted as my knees began to tremble. "I know that." It felt like someone had just elbowed me in the gut. My vision began to blur.

Her expression turned curious and confused at the same time. "How did you-"

But I never got to hear the end of her question as my knees gave out and the world tunneled to black....