Chapter:1
The road takes me back,
To the land where my roots cling.
There, where your love is a beacon in the storm,
A safe haven, a place I belong to.
I'm not looking to escape, I'm not running away from life,
I have traced my own path, without regrets.
But these streets, these faces, fade in time,
And nostalgia whispers to me that it's time to come back.
My heart beats with the promise of home,
Of a constant love, an unbreakable truth.
So I'm going, to where my soul finds its peace,
To where I have always belonged, to you.
Home- Daughtry
~Bella~
We pulled into the driveway, the smoothly repaved blacktop gliding quietly underneath his truck tires. It looked exactly the same, but entirely different. The house was identical to how it was when I left five years ago, but it was a creamy beige now, accented by burgundy shutters and a new wood porch. The landscaping was new too, shrubs and bushes neatly manicured and arranged on the lush green lawn. Considering he had been a bachelor for so long, I had expected the house to look like a rundown piece of crap by now. It was a pleasant surprise to come home to the complete opposite.
"Dad, please don't overexert yourself. I can get the bags," I pleaded, watching my father lift the overstuffed suitcases from his truck.
He eyed me sideways, disdainfully ignoring my concern. Charlie, ever the manly man, was never one to accept assistance or pity, particularly from a woman. He had recently retired from the Forks Police Force when had been injured during a robbery, and his wounded leg rendered it difficult for him to stand for long periods of time. As a result, he decided to open his own private investigation company based in Seattle. It had been doing rather well, proving to be a lucrative career, as cheating husbands and wives and their scornful mates were apparently plentiful.
I noticed that had acquired a minor limp. His hair had gotten slightly gray, lightened tufts sprouting out from the sides of his otherwise dark, wavy hair, though his face still held its youthful manliness. When I was little, I used to think he was the most handsome man in the whole world, and that I would marry him one day.
"Bella are you kidding me with all this luggage?" Charlie scowled as he hauled suitcase after suitcase from his truck begrudgingly, grunting and muttering under his breath. I smiled sheepishly at him before cringing. The heaviest suitcase, completely full of shoes was the last to go.
"Dad, I'm a sixteen year old girl, confused about life and social expectations, simply attempting to navigate my way in this ever confusing world while discovering myself and trying to maintain a healthy self-image. A large variety of clothing and shoes helps me search for my true identity while at the same time providing an outlet for self-expression and creativity." I snickered childishly while slinging a large hot pink duffle bag over my shoulder. "Plus it makes me look cute."
"That's funny, Bells. What, did you rehearse that on the plane? Don't be such a smartass," he chided. I rolled my eyes at him as he dumped the last of the bags in the hallway and threw his arm over my shoulder kissing my head. "I'm glad you're home, Honey. I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Dad. The house looks great. It's about time you made some improvements." In my five year absence since my parents divorced, Charlie had the entire house redone. The whole kitchen had been replaced and modernized; two more bedrooms and a bathroom were added to the upstairs, as well as the addition of a huge den connecting to the downstairs living room. It was still my home, but at the same time…not. I loved that the house was clean and new, but hated that it no longer resembled the home I grew up in.
"Yeah well, Esme convinced me that it was time to update. It's a good investment in the long run."
"Esme?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I started up the stairs.
He jerked his thumb in the direction of the house down the block. The monstrous, ostentatious, ill fitted for the neighborhood mini- mansion that had been constructed and moved into a year ago by the Cullen family.
The block Charlie lived on was a long, wooded dead end street with only two tiny houses on it. Alice Brandon and her mom lived across the street in a style house identical to this one. But this eyesore at the end of the block, set back a few hundred feet into the woods, made the two existing houses look like pitiful shacks compared to it. It was bigger than the home Phil had us move into and I thought that was huge. The Cullens' was a beautiful home, but it didn't fit in Forks…at all.
Along with other town gossip, Charlie had filled me in on the changes to the neighborhood on the drive home from the airport. However, he neglected to give me specific details on the residents of the Cullen home.
"She's pretty, I gather?" I enjoyed teasing Charlie about being immune to a gorgeous woman's seductive wiles.
"Yes, Esme is attractive, and very happily married. She's just exceptionally persuasive and good at her job, is all." Apparently, Esme Cullen used to own an interior design company in Chicago before she relocated.
Whatever, Dad. Pretty woman sticks her knockers in your face and you drop a mound of dough to redecorate.
Typical guy.
I stopped on the landing of the stairs, and went directly into my old/ new room. The walls had been painted a soft sage green color, very soothing and serene
against the bright white moldings and trim. There was a large picture window that faced the street and another that faced the side of the yard with a partially hidden view of the mansion. I dumped the bag on the naked mattress of the queen sized black wrought iron bed and opened the closet. It was big, but not nearly large enough to house all the clothing and shoes that I had brought.