A pale girl entered the room, seventeen years old and hating every bit of it. A large suitcase took up the rest of the bed, lying empty as if it had just been unpacked rather than the opposite. Cardboard boxes had been tossed around carelessly, covering the little space left in the large room. The majority of it was taken up with broken lamps, furniture and paper. Lots and lots of blank white paper.

She was okay with it.

Outside her mother and father were arguing, it was normal. They did it more than any other parents she knew, none of her friends had parents who couldn't stand each other. Nor did their parents never got divorced because it was 'weak'. Instead they both cheated on each other and they both acted as if they didn't know the other was cheating on them.

P r o l o g u e

She was okay with it.

A single tear fell from her eye as she stared around the room, thinking of every significant event that had happened in here. Her mother had always come in trying to get her to talk about gossip or boys. She always hated telling her anything because her mother would tell everyone and she'd get really angry. The girl almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it was – her childish problems compared to them now.

She was okay with it.

She thought of how her first kiss had been in this room back when she was ten. It was with a guy called Tommy, but everyone called him Carrothead because of his famous ginger hair.

She was okay with it.

And then it had all gone downhill. She stared at all of the posters lying crumpled on the ground. She had torn them down after it had happened and she'd found them a couple of hours ago when she was going through her stuff down the back of her desk. She couldn't believe before it had happened finding a way to meet McFly and to get them to fall in love with her was the least of her worries.

She was okay with it.

But what she wasn't okay with, what she really hated was what happened afterwards. How everyone pitied her like she was the one who was meant to be pitied. As if she needed that. Their looks and their talks, all of them – each and every one of them telling her it was just a phase she was going though – the teachers, her parents, the therapists. How did they think it was going to make it okay? That she was okay with it?

No. She – Bella Swan – was not okay with it.