Gifted

Chapter 1: Bella

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, however I reserve all rights pertaining to the original elements of this story, of which there are plenty. Bella, the Cullens, the whole Twilight universe does not belong to me. But I'm proud of what I've created out of Stephanie Meyer's sandbox and those things that you don't recognize from her saga belong to me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was difficult, the memories hazy now, but when she reflected long and hard Bella could almost remember her life before...Though she was always lonely, there were enough good memories with her mother and father to make her nostalgic. She remembered days in the park, birthdays and Christmases. She remembered watching her mother cook while she did her homework after school. She remembered playing catch with her father. It wasn't a perfect life by no means, but it was a content and simple one.

How she wished she could completely forget it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tomorrow night:

Ring. Ring.

'Pick up. Don't pick up. Pick up. Don't-'

"Hello?" A deep voice asked.

She held her breath. God, what was I thinking? She thought to herself. Her free hand was clenched so hard the knuckles were turning white. Her other hand squeezed the phone, painfully, against the side of her head.

"Hello? Who is this?" The man on the other side asked, the irritation quickly seeping into his voice.

And still, Bella couldn't think past the terror in her mind. She was beginning to feel discomfort now. She hadn't moved a muscle or, more importantly, taken a breath for almost a minute now. Gently she exhaled, and moved her lips hoping a sound might come out.

Click.

She closed her eyes and took in a big gulp of air. Exhale. Another breath. She placed the receiver back in its cradle and leaned all her weight onto the payphone.

It had been seven years, but his voice was unmistakable. She blinked back a tear as she thought how both wonderful and painful it was to hear her father's voice again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today:

A quick glance at her watch told her it was 10 minutes after closing time. Still, she held still for a few more minutes, listening carefully for any disturbance before she relaxed enough to move more than a few inches. She slowly opened the door of her hideout, a closet full of paper supplies, and walked up the stairs.

The library was deserted and dark now, having closed at 9 PM. She liked this library. She had been haunting it for nearly a month, and would be sad to leave it behind. There were no security cameras or motion sensors, which was how she was able to spend so many nights here undetected. It was hidden from the main road just enough for her to be able to turn on a few small lights without fear of detection. Best of all, the staff kitchen was always so full of food she was able to sneak herself a small dinner every night without it being noticeable the next day. At least, she didn't think anyone had noticed.

Bella cautiously walked toward her favorite armchair and pulled off her backpack before plopping down and sighing loudly. Another day, she thought.

She allowed herself a few moments free of stress and worry, then pulled herself back up and walked towards the architecture aisle. She grabbed a few promising looking books and headed back to her spot, sighed again and started reading-but not before setting an alarm for 3 AM. She knew the cleaners came every morning at 5, and the 2-hour cushion was as close as she dared get.

As she read and looked longingly at the pictures of the warm, inviting homes she couldn't stop the pang in her stomach as she inevitably thought of the home from long ago, and the home she couldn't ever have now. The thoughts soon overtook her reading, and she felt the pangs become stronger and stronger. Something light up inside her and just as quickly extinguished as she opened her eyes wide and mentally scolded herself. 'Stop it,' she thought to herself. 'You haven't had a reaction in months. Don't fuck it up now, Bella Swan.'

She focused on breathing, on clearing her mind until the strong emotions she felt not a few moments ago ebbed back into the familiar quiet ache.

She sighed and closed the book.

"Maybe a different subject tonight," she said out loud. Carefully, she shelved the books she had taken back exactly where they belonged. A few aisles over she picked up a book about the secret life of dogs.

Six hours later, her beeping watch forced her to close her book and make her way out of the building. She carefully scanned her area to be sure nothing was amiss before heading back downstairs to the supply closet and the window with the broken lock. She climbed out, her backpack tied securely to her back, and slowly made her way along an unlit portion of the sidewalk, down the short hill on which the library stood, and on to the woods. When she was a good couple of miles in, she swiftly climbed the sturdy tree that had been her bed for the last month. With a loud sigh she laid back on her sleeping bag which was securely tied to the branches it was resting on, and closed her eyes.

Another night, was her last thought as she drifted to a restless sleep.