Welcome! Or maybe welcome back!

A while ago I wrote a fanfiction called From the Ashes, it's still up for now but I'll probably remove it later once I feel like enough have seen my note about changing the story. If anyone HAS read it and is coming over from there, you'll definitely recognize most of the first bunch of chapters. The events as a whole remained pretty much the same, but the way it's all written and the end game is different.

I hope those of you who are new enjoy it, and I hope those of you returning will enjoy it as much as you did the first version.

Happy Reading!

CHAPTER 1: Only Human

Arizona, a hot, dry wasteland if you lived in one of the more rural parts. They didn't, but they were far enough on the outskirts of Phoenix that their backyard was nothing but an expanse of desert. Bella constantly complained about the high temperatures, especially during the summer. She mourned the inevitable roasting of her poor skin, because she either burned or she didn't, there was no in-between.

She lost count on the amount of protests she led trying to convince her mom and step-dad that they should move somewhere cooler. Preferably out of Arizona, but she was open to suggestions. Like the mountains; it was almost always chilly up there. Naturally the idea was shut down with an a sarcastic reply courtesy of Renee, but Bella never relented and the topic was brought up at least a handful of times over the years.

Joking or not, Bella really did want to leave Arizona. She always figured Phil or Renee would receive a job offer and finally uproot everyone. Not once did she consider the unfathomable possibility of what actually happened.

Regardless of it all, the sun rose like every day, the same birds nesting in the gutters above her window chirped incessantly, the gentle hum of engines occasionally joining in to create a surreal ambiance. She felt like the world was mocking her, reminding her that it was entirely unaware and unaffected by the horrors their family had recently experienced and would continue to spin on as it always did.

Despite the harsh sun rays coming down through her window, the slate grey curtains acted almost like a monotone filter and made the bedroom appear colorless and empty. The decorations that had adorned her shelves and desktop were safely tucked away in a box somewhere, most of her clothes were packed up in suitcases, her books had already been shipped off to Forks with the rest of her belongings deemed non-necessities, and two over-sized rolling luggage bags were propped upright by her doorway.

A gentle rapping on the bedroom door and Phil's gruff, muffled voice cut through the strange atmosphere, "Bella-bug, hey sweetie, I'm just checking to see if you're awake."

He was being polite, they both knew she'd been awake for hours.

"Yeah, Phil, I'm awake."

"Alright. The service is in two hours but. . .no rush, okay? Take all the time you need."

She listened as his footsteps faded down the stairs. He was trying to hide it but Bella clearly heard the cracking in his voice and the slight scratchiness of his throat. No doubt he'd been crying too, everything was obviously taking as much of a toll on him as it was her, yet he was putting forth his best effort to act strong for her sake.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Bella swung her legs over the side of the bed and twisted herself up in to a sitting position. For a minute she didn't move, bent slightly in a hunch and staring at the floor, unwilling to look up. Then, with a long, sharp intake of air, she began to vigorously rub her face, attempting to shake the fatigue. While she slowly shuffled around to collect her clothes for a shower, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye gave birth to a momentary panic. Bella whipped around to address the unfamiliar presence only to be caught of guard by the person staring back at her from the mirror.

It didn't look like her, but it certainly was.

Stray bits of umber locks framed her pale face, which was made even paler by the stark contrast of dark circles under her sunken eyes. Either matted down from sweat or sticking out in several different directions, it was in absolute disarray from the amount of tossing and turning she did at night. Her skin had an oily sheen, likely a result of not showering for two days in a row (though to be fair, she tried to wash her face). She snorted at her resemblance to a walking skeleton and immediately mentally slapped herself; it had to be the worst day to be thinking of dead jokes.

The drastic physical changes were due to the nightmares plaguing her every night since. Sometimes they were mild, bearable, then other times it was like reliving her personal hell over and over again. Worst still, hey rarely consisted of abundant physical details. At best, upon waking, she'd recall wild, and blood-thirsty crimson eyes, the agonizing howls of their family dog, and high-pitched screaming. The nightmares made her feel helpless and cursed her with the knowledge that there were other-worldly things existing outside of human awareness. The police insisted it was a freak cougar attack, but whatever wandered in to their vicinity that night had clearly been supernatural.

Phil did his best to wake her up any time he could, but there were nights when he couldn't be there that she would wake up to a pitch black room and a panic attack. It got to the point where she refused to sleep in the dark and grew accustomed to leaving her lights on. It didn't help with the sleeping part, it actually kept her awake sometimes, but it was comforting to know she wouldn't wake up to darkness once her body finally knocked out.

After an hour long shower, half a bottle of de-tangler, and a copious amount of mouth wash, Bella felt clean and at least somewhat presentable for the first time in days. The coal black dress hugging her figure did no favors in hiding the display of her rib cage, however it was undoubtedly lovely; she couldn't help but think it would look stunning on a prettier woman. Her mother chose it on one of their trips to the nearby strip mall, and the bitter irony of it being picked out by Renee felt like a slap to the face.

"Bella, look!" Renee cheerfully swung around, clutching the hanger of a black dress.

"Mom, no, first of all, I don't do dresses, you know that." She directed an accusing finger toward her mom. "Second of all,what the hell would I even wear that for?"

"Honey, language"

"Okay, sorry, what in the h-e-double hockey sticks would I wear that for?"

Renee rolled her eyes. She shoved the dress in to her daughters arms, spun her by the shoulders, and walked her directly to the changing rooms. "Just go try it on! Besides, you don't own anything like this, you never know when you might need a nice dress."

Bella groaned loudly and trudged in to one of the stalls, and Renee unceremoniously plopped down on one of the cushy armchairs minutes of soft rustling and frustrated muttering was followed by another couple minutes of silence. Renee began to tap her foot in mock impatience; she knew it was a stroke of luck that her daughter even gave in this time.

"Mom, I hate it. It looks terrible on me."

"I'll be the judge of that, now come out and show me." The stall door creaked open, and Renee was momentarily in awe. Yes, Bella was a bit on the smaller side, but the empire waist flared out just above her hips and complimented what figure she did have. The gently dipping neck-line and quarter-length sleeves added an air of elegance. "It does not, you're beautiful Bella, I just wish you could see yourself the way I do."

"You're my mother, you're supposed to say that." Bella rolled her eyes and disappeared to change back. After a few more minutes of back and forth banter, Renee insisting on her self-proclaimed title of "Fashionista", and an attempt by Bella to sneak it back on to the rack, the younger girl relented. Renee strode off to check out,clutching the garment protectively and happy as a clam in her victory.

Phil's voice pulled her back to reality for the second time that morning. He was trying to give her words of encouragement and Bella felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips for the first time in days. The man was pretty stereotypical for a baseball player; he enjoyed sports, a drink with the boys, and only marginally understood Renee's decor related rants, but he had a massive emotional soft spot for both his "girls".

Bella, now sitting in her desk chair,was leaned over strapping up a pair of uncomfortable wedges. She didn't have a lot of confidence in her ability to walk in them, but they were the only pair of acceptable looking shoes she had. The only other pair of black footwear in the closet was a pair of all black Converse, but something told her that wearing Converse to a funeral would be seen as a bit inappropriate.

Phil patiently sat in a chair at the dining room table, idly playing on his smart phone. He was slouching back slightly in a relaxed posture, clearly unperturbed by the amount of time his step-daughter was taking to get ready. It was true that he wanted to get there at a decent time, but he also wanted Bella to be as comfortable as possible before what was bound to be a long, emotional day. A few more minutes passed before he heard the sound of awkward thumping on the staircase. Phil looked behind him to see a stumbling Bella making her way down the steps, relying heavily on the guard rail.

Phil was briefly torn between concern, humor and confusion at the sight. "Bella, why did you pick those?"

She gave him a pitiful look. "Because, they're the only shoes I have that match."

"What about those black sneakers? They'd be fine."

"My Converse? Those are falling apart! Mom would never forgive me if I wore those."

For a moment, a deep, contemplative frown crossed his features. Bella stared, waiting for some kind of reply, but was surprised to see him quietly get up and head up the steps around her. A minute later he reappeared at the top, her old sneakers dangling from two fingers. Without a word he made his way back down and stopped on the step just before her, gesturing for her to sit down.

"Do you want to know what I think she would say?" Phil helped unstrap the awful wedges, then handed her the other pair. "I think she would tell you to do whatever makes you most comfortable. Your mom may have been all for clothes and accessories, but never once did she push you if you truly, genuinely were in distress over it. They're just shoes Bella-bug, nobody is going to notice or care."

"Thank God because those things were killing me!" She gave a relieved huff and shoved her feet in the comfy, cloth shoes.

Upon Renee's wishes, the service was closed-casket and open to the public. Not that it mattered, Bella thought bitterly to herself. The attack had been so gruesome that it would end up closed-casket no matter what her wishes had been. She'd also told Phil about wanting to be cremated and have her ashes spread on the mountains of her hometown, but according to him she specifically wanted Bella to be the one to do it.

The funeral only lasted about two hours, and Bella hadn't been sure how to act during the whole thing. Deep down she was depressed, angry and confused, but she forced herself to maintain an outward facade of the opposite, refusing to allow anyone to think she was anything less than okay. There ended up being more people than they'd initially expected to attend. Renee's work colleagues, her parents, one or two close friends, and even some employees and guests from the YMCA she frequented came to pay their respects. Many of them tried to offer their condolences to her and Phil, and she tried to sound genuine in thanking them, but she was quickly tiring of the looks of pity they would give her.

Bless Phil's heart, he had either seen her distress or developed some of his own because it wasn't long after the end of the service that he was rushing them out of there. It was incredibly overwhelming, at one point Bella walked by a group of four that were talking about it being the result of an animal attack and it took all her willpower not to scream that it wasn't an animal, it was something else, something unnatural, but it didn't matter. No one believed her. Not Phil, not the police, and when she overheard them talking with her doctor about potentially being hospitalized, she shut up and went along with their conviction.

Bella spent the next few hours packing up her last two travel bags, these ones being stacked with her CD's, a few special books, and a handful of sketchbooks. She'd been too afraid to ship them off with her other things, concerned about the potential for damage. Especially the sketchbooks, they were a mixture of her own and Renee's and completely irreplaceable. The two of them shared an affinity for art, although where Bella's were usually filled with dreams, nature and some fantasy, Renee's were mostly her unique, but incredibly beautiful fashion designs.

There was another hesitant tapping at her door, before it gently creaked open and Phil popped his head in. She realized she'd let a few tears escape and quickly wiped them from her cheeks. Bella hoped he didn't notice, but if he had he made a point not to ask. The bald-headed man pushed the door open all the way and joined her on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Bella-bug." His nickname for her brought a familiar feeling to her chest and she smiled. "Are you almost ready?"

His question was tentative and unsure. Neither of them were prepared to go their separate ways, and she knew they would keep in touch, but Phil had been there for most of her life and currently he was the only one who understood how she felt. Bella didn't know that she could do this without him, without someone familiar. She cared for and loved her dad Charlie, but she also only used to visit once a summer, and within the last three years, not at all. How much have things in Forks changed since then? How much has she changed since then?

"Yeah, I just had a few more things to pack, but I think I'm ready." The slight upset in her tone did not go unnoticed.

Phil could feel his heart breaking just as it did every time he looked at his step-daughter. With a knowing look he held out his arms and Bella allowed him to swallow her in to a hug. She knew she would miss his hugs the most, they made her feel protected and safe; something Bella hadn't felt since before that night. After a few moments, and a few silent tears on her part, Phil removed himself and held her at arm's length, gently wiping her face with the pads of his thumbs.

"It'll be okay, Bella-Bug, maybe not today, or tomorrow, but I promise we'll both get through this."

Bella believed him, or rather, she wanted to. Phil made way to the car, grabbing her travel bags on his way out. She followed him to the door, stopping to survey the room one last time. It seemed barren and sad now, all that remained was a bed, a dresser, and a few other furniture items that were far too big to ship across several states. Besides, Charlie assured them that she would have everything she needed in her old bedroom at his house.

She followed suit for every room she passed on her way to the front door, briefly reliving memories each time. The only room she avoided was Renee's. Without even seeing it she could vividly see of all the times the two of them had girls' night, sitting on her bed eating ice cream and watching stupid reality shows on her mother's insistence. Finally closing the front door behind her, Bella turned her key in the lock for the last time.

There it is! I hope you enjoy the beginning of the revision. Most of the chapters will be shorter like this one, mainly because I've decided not to try to jam to much information in to one chapter which also means the story-line will slow down a bit and there will be more filler chapters. It makes the story longer, but people will wait for something good right? Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome!