.

I really need to try something different this year. I am sick of being the same person I was last year, or the year before that, or even the year before that. I hate routine. I hate having a schedule. I hate people telling me what to say, what to do, how to dress.

Everything is so planned out for me; which school I'm going to, what job I'm going to apply for, and what's going to happen from one week to the next. All this can be nice, at times, but it's never what I want to do; it's what I am being told to do. I just need some options. I'm sick of everyone looking at me as the "good girl" or the "teacher’s pet".

After my dad, Charlie, passed away when I was 13, I had to grow up and take care of my mom, Renee. It wasn't easy, since all she did was lock herself in the bathroom and hold his picture to her chest. It became my job to be the best daughter she could ever have… for Charlie's sake. I didn't want him looking down on me as a failure, and I didn't want Renee to be constantly worrying about whether or not I was screwing up.

That's why I decided I had to be the "good kid". Now our lives are different, and my mom is in a stable relationship. So, I think it’s time for a change and allow things, or me for that matter, to be different.

"To be someone else is easy, but to be yourself - that's the hard part, Bells. Don't you ever forget that."

I never understood what my father meant by that. How could being yourself be hard and being someone else be easy? But my father was a smart man, so I never questioned his theories or his great words of wisdom. I kept those questions to myself while he was alive and tried every waking moment of my life to figure out exactly what he was trying to tell me or show me.

It wasn't until my father's passing that I understood what his statement meant, and it wasn't until this year that I decided to actually make a change.

I am forgotten. I am alone. Everything I do and say is fucked up. My life is fucked, therefore, I am fucked.

That's why I'm heading down this deserted road with trees surrounding each side, driving my shitty, rusted, red truck to Forks, Washington. Ever since the "accident", it’s as if I’ve spent my life walking with a ghost. A ghost of the past. People fucking judge me everywhere I go. Every move I make is studied under a microscope. It’s like they want me to fuck up, like they're waiting for it.

My father, Aro, is a dead-beat. We live in the same house, but he treats me like shit. He’s always too drunk or high to even notice me, his own son, and I couldn't take it anymore. Fuck, but I'm a good kid! I rarely get into trouble, and I get pretty good grades.

So, I decided to pack up my shitty truck and get the hell out of the ugly ass city, away from Aro. I called up my Aunt Esme, who is a damn saint, and I explained my fucked up life to her. She decided that it would be best to go live with her and my cousin, Jasper, in the town of Forks, Washington.

Driving down that dark road, my thoughts continue to torment me. I’ll never understand why people jump the gun and decide who I am before even getting to know me. They label me like some fucking product sitting silently on a grocery store shelf. All they see is this angry guy, constantly on the verge of reaching his breaking point. But they have no clue what kind of life I’ve endured.

I will admit; I'm terrified to go to this new high school. As soon as I walk through those halls, some bitch is going to stare at me, because she is either afraid of me or she wants to fuck me. Or some bastard is going to assume that I'm there specifically to steal his girl or beat the shit out of him. I really couldn’t care less, but the fact remains that those are the labels they will pin on me. I just need to get through this year alone, by myself and away from anyone else. That way, I don't have to hurt anyone else.