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What if Bella had no Jacob Black? Instead she was really sent to a mental institution, but for a different reason. She literally forgot everything about her past. But, of course, for Bella, the dangers never seize...

This is set during New Moon, a week after the night in Port Angeles with Jessica... or something like that. Bella finds the bikes in suitable conditions so she learns how to ride them herself. No Jacob Black in this story, sorry to disappoint for you Jacob lovers. Hopefully Bella isn't too OOC, instead of her numb state (because she eventually forgets everything), she's bitter and sarcastic.

3. Runaway

Rating 5/5   Word Count 3708   Review this Chapter

Bella’s POV:

A flash of orange; wild hair, billowing in the stormy winds like fire, climbing up towards the tree tops, as if seeking to catch something from thin air, to grasp at it’s throat. It was in startling contrast to her ghostly white, alabaster skin.

Wind whipping fast all around the figure, leaves ripping off trees and swirling around her feline-like stance, occasionally getting stuck in her hair. She didn’t seem to care.

Eyes, eyes like hard rubies, cold and to be handled cautiously, a bloody red, menacing and emotionless; a void, set on a sinfully pleasurable task, revenge, bittersweet.

Her mouth was set into a hard line, but as soon as a spark in her bright eyes lit, her mouth upturned into a smirk, as if caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to but has not a care in the world at the trouble she will be in. Teeth, sharp and bone white, oozing what would be mistaken as saliva, but it was much more deadly than that…

I screamed loudly and clutched at my bed sheets, straining them within my tight fingers. The only sound was a silence, the most deafening silence you could ever imagine… the worst kind, one where you knew something bad has happened… or something bad to come.

The room was dark, as usual, but it was much more foreboding. The dark seemed to press in all around my hyperventilating form, making me momentarily claustrophobic.

The only sound was my heavy heartbeat pounding in my ears, thump, thump, thump.

This nightmare was not my usual one – this one could definitely be counted as a nightmare. No, this one was infinitely worse. Pure, naked panic washed over me and I fought to control my breathing. My pulse was another matter; it would not slow, although I knew it was important for my survival if it was quiet. I did not know why. My human instincts prickled in the memory of that nightmare – not a good sign.

“You need to get out of here!” A hauntingly beautiful voice whispered frantically in my head. This voice, one melodious voice, was all it took. I broke down completely. The gapping hole in my chest tore open and it felt as if something was ripping my heart to shreds, bit by bit. I cried out in anguish and clawed at my chest, my stomach, just trying to get this fire to seize. How did this voice affect me so! Who was the owner to this painstakingly beautiful voice?

Yet, I could not deny this mysterious new person inside my head anything; I would do anything for him. I hopped out of my hard bed and scrambled over to my drawers. I took all the clothes I could find, my secret sock money stash, and a couple bags of cookies I had hidden. I proceeded to stuff them hastily into my carrier bag, not caring if the outfits matched or not. My wardrobe wasn’t one of my proudest accomplishments.

I glanced down at my hospital gown; there were a few blotches of blood from where my nails broke the skin when I was trying to claw my defective heart out. This would not do, it was not safe. I quickly threw the shirt off and replaced it with a baggy sweatshirt I had not worn in a long while: perfect.

Ok, now how the bloody Hell was I supposed to get out of here? Going out the front door would be completely pointless and stupid. The only other option was the window. I sighed, I would surely get myself killed, but this was already a life or death situation, was it not? God, why was I even running?! Who was this crazed fiery haired woman to me, what did she matter? A whole Hell of a lot, my mind answered, and deep down you know it.

I exhaled deeply and reluctantly made my way towards the large window. I struggled to open it, but luckily seeing as how I was so thin now I was able to fit through the small space I had been able to provide.

I slipped out the window and managed to only escape with a scrape on the side of my waist. I hedged carefully down the brick wall; thank God they were fairly easy to climb down upon! I just needed to remember not to look down, or that would surely ruin my lucky klutz free streak. It was quite ironic how I could be surprisingly graceful when faired against a deathly situation. I laughed bitterly out loud.

And how I’ve managed to survive this long on my own! Either God was helping me, making me stay around because I had bigger, better things in life waiting, or he was playing some kind of sick joke. Either way I was grateful.

I slipped on one of the bricks, worn down with age, but I was only two feet off the ground and made it out with only a twisted ankle, nothing new.

I raced into the underground parking lot, my eyes flickering around at just the slightest change in shadow or movement. Better paranoid than dead. I dodged between cars, keeping myself as low and small as possible, if Mike were here as my sidekick he’d be humming the Mission Impossible theme song. I chuckled dryly.

Ah, my truck! I spotted the huge, red beast a couple meters ahead of me. I silently cursed myself for crashing my motorcycle; it would have made a much better get-away car. It made much less noise, and was smaller, faster, and easy to fit in small places.

I shoved my hand in my front pocket and pulled out my keys, stuck them a bit too forcefully into the door lock, yanked open the door, slammed it as quietly but tightly as I good, and thrust the keys into the ignition. I revved the truck and slammed my foot onto the gas pedal, sending my car lurching and squealing from being unused.

I had no destination in mind; I just knew I had to get away, far away.

I raced down the road as fast as I possibly could in this godforsaken slow-mobile, maybe I should get a new car, like a… Audi Coupe. For some reason my chest clenched. Oh well, I didn’t have enough money anyways, just the stuff I saved from Newton’s.

The street lights shined above me, looming overhead as if watching my every move. I shuddered, maybe I was insane.

There were no other cars on the road, just me. I felt extremely vulnerable, the hairs at the back of my neck tingled. Shit.


I drove recklessly, but the voice in my head did not sound again. I had been driving for hours on end, only stopping occasionally for gas. I did not bother to eat; it was not safe to get out of the confines of my safety cage.

After two more hours my stomach decided to make its protests known. I groaned, cookies would no longer satisfy it.

A couple minutes later I pulled into a McDonald’s and stuffed three Big Macs into my mouth in less than five minutes. Finally a change from the revolting plastic food in the hospital!

I continued driving, this time stopping whenever I was hungry and finding a suitable restaurant, which was often. I guess my appetite was catching up on me again.

I switched on the radio to pass the time and stopped at a sensible station. Why hadn’t I ever listened to music before?

The lyrics flowed smoothly through the speakers, like a lover’s gentle caress, wrapping me in its sweet embrace…

Just thinking of all the things that we’ve missed…

What good are promises,

If nobody honors them?

Wishin’ beyond hope that

You will come back for me

But what good is dreaming

When you’ve forgotten what it means?

I felt bitter tears stinging in my eyes. This would not due, I couldn’t drive this incapacitated. I pulled over to the side on the road and rested my head on the hard steering wheel, breathing deeply while traitor tears streaked down my face in thick strands. I forgot how good yet bad it felt to cry.

And why do we go on,

When we’ve got less than nothing to lose?

When all the sinners are winners,

And the Angels have not a clue

I could definitely empathize with this person. God, it felt like they were singing my life – or story – for everyone to hear. Idiot, no one deserved to know, to experience, this agony. Not even me.

All the happiness is destroyed,

In your mind’s eye

When he disappears,

With just a kiss goodbye…

The last lines of the song drifted to a close, and I brought my head back up to gaze unseeingly through the windshield, with a sigh. I needed to get going.


A plane was flying directly overhead of my truck. It was getting closer and closer to the ground. Of course, it was going faster than my truck – pretty much everything was – and I saw it land just ahead of me: an airport.

I drove and parked my car in the parking lot, leaving the keys in the ignition. Who cares if someone steals it? I’m not ever coming back for it. I grabbed all my bags out of the backseat and walked up to the front of the building, darting nervous glances around the perimeter. I felt kind of like a spy, which caused me to giggle.

I unconsciously started humming the Mission Impossible theme song, which made me think of Mike in black tights and a burglar mask, rolling around on the pavement and making his fingers look like guns. I burst into a round of laughter which caused a bunch of people to look at me like I was insane, and they were correct. That thought made me laugh even more.

Thirty minutes of begging, forging, and ensuring people I was not a hobo later, I found myself seated in an overly-stuffed chair thirty-thousand feet above ground heading to Denali, Alaska.

There was an overweight man with extremely greasy hair snoring next to me, he sounded like a congested pig. There was a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth, occasionally forming a big slime bubble, only to have it pop and splatter all over the seat. I leaned away from him in distaste.

I opened the blinds, ignoring the grumbles of protests from the sleeping man next to me, and peered out at the blinding sun, seeming to be following us along merrily, guiding me to safety.

They had some sappy romance movie playing; it sickened me so I didn’t even bother to pretend I was watching it. The food on my tray was left untouched, except for the brownie I had eaten.

I had no belongings other than my clothes, so that left me with nothing to do. I blocked out all noises, creating a wall with my ears. It was kind of like being numb, except you have absolutely no train of thought. You’re just… there, not focused on anything, not hearing, smelling, seeing, touching. It’s like you’re weightless. Pretty creepy, but it’s good for passing time.

I was jolted ‘awake’ by the stewardess roughly shaking my shoulder. She was bleach blonde, had overly painted lips that clearly went outside the natural line, and a bus load of makeup. She reminded me of a carnival clown.

I squinted my eyes at her, straining them into focus. “Yes?”

“The plane has landed,” she replied in a nasally, droning voice. “Get off now.”

I got up a bit wobbly, muttering about impatience and bad attitudes under my breath as I got my carry-on bag out of the upper compartment. I brushed past her on my way out and she nudged me ‘accidentally’ into the plane’s metal wall. Damn, that’s going to leave a bruise, I thought.

I made my way out of the airport and hailed a cab. “Drive me to the nearest motorcycle dealership.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, skeptical. “Wha’d ever yah say, kid.”

I leaned back into the comfy seats and closed my eyes, listening to the humming of the cars motor. I started unconsciously humming a sweet, haunting melody, sounding like a lullaby. I ignored the throbbing of my chest and instead focused on the tune, trying to remember what keys were used to play this on the piano.

The last note dwindled out and I slowly opened my eyes, blurry with tears. I ignored the driver’s questioning glance and instead opted to look out the window, studying the scenery passing by. God, Alaska was beautiful.

“Here yah’r, kid,” He mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at me.

“Thanks,” I whispered hoarsely and handed him a couple twenties.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my bag, the cab driver rushed away.

This place had amazing bikes, they were all sleek and shiny, and undoubtedly fast. Perfect.

I was glancing around the lot, aimlessly walking and checking out the condition of the bikes, ignoring the incredulous stares of the bushy bearded older men in bikers’ jackets.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of midnight blue. I pivoted on the spot and pointed my gaze directly at it, the most beautiful, wonderful bike in the world. Its’ parts were the shiniest silver, glistening like diamonds. Its’ surface was flawlessly smooth, cold and hard yet oddly comforting despite its’ intimidating look. The blue colour was perfect for me, I remember someone saying I looked good in blue.

“Eh, little lady. You lookin’ for somethin’?” The rough voice startled me from my reverie.

I turned around to see a red headed and bearded man with muscular arms despite his old age. He had a wide toothy grin and crinkly blue eyes, I immediately liked him.

“Yes, sir. I would like to purchase this bike right here,” I grinned at him.

“Aye, that one’s a real beauty, ain’t she?” He winked at me and I giggled. “Well then, this yer first bike?”

“Nope, I had one but crashed it into a van… and then a tree, with me along with it.” I grimaced although I didn’t remember it.

His expression turned sorrowful. “An’ yer still goin’ on it again? Whatcher parents gonna say ‘bout that?”

I shrugged my shoulders and frowned. “My parents are dead,” my voice was dangerously flat.

He patted my shoulder comfortingly with his big, warm hand. “S’ok. Let’s getcher bike then, shall we?”

I smiled a small smile, grateful. “Mhmm.”

After signing all the necessary forms and paying with all the money I had saved up for my collage fund, he led me back outside. “K’ kiddo. Let’s see whatcha got,” he winked at me.

I hopped on the comfy cushions of the leather seats and sighed deeply, a wave of familiarity washing over me. This is where my real home was, the only thing that could ever comfort me.

I placed my helmet and leather jacket with tassels on (which was also newly purchased) and revved the engine, which purred under me. I felt a huge grin break across my face, which Bob (the biker guy) responded to with a goofy grin of his own.

I have him a little military salute and was off, the new tires squealing across the pavement, sounding like screams. The wind rushed past me, making my hair flap wildly against my back. All I could hear was the cars and air whooshing past my ears; just the way I liked it. I turned my gaze skyward, where the sun was peeking behind the big, fluffy clouds; it was going to be a nice day.

As I drove into the town limits, I saw the surprised looks of the town’s folk as I whipped past them. I was pretty sure they didn’t see an eighteen year old, with a fancy new motorcycle, from out of down driving down the road over the speed limits every day.

Everyone I passed instantly put on a weary look, some were curious. I guess they thought I was bad news, even though it could have just been the dark as pitch sunglasses I wore, hiding my face from view.

And then it hit me. Nope, not a van, but it definitely hit me with the force of one. It was the recognition that I did not have a home, and I couldn’t sleep in my truck because I didn’t have it anymore. Ah, shit.

Not just that, but I had not finished my last year at school yet, with just a couple more months and all. Oh, great way to be inconspicuous when you’re trying to go into hiding Bella, real smooth. I guess I could enroll in the school, it’s not like they’d care if I just randomly showed up and said “Put me in your school, pronto.” I was really starting to love small towns.

I drove a little longer, ignoring the inquiring stares, and drove into the parking lot of a building with a big sign that said “SCHOOL” posted on the front. I grinned, it looked just like Forks. I got off my bike and left the helmet on the seat.

I checked my watch; it was after school hours, so the office would be still open. I walked through the door and was instantly hit with a warm blast of air. The office was like any other, vinyl chairs, plastic plants, and a plump, chipper lady sitting behind the desk reading a cheesy romance novel.

“Hello, Ma’am,” I asked politely, stepping up to the desk and waking the lady from her gushy reverie, “My name is Isabella… Dwyer, I’m here to ask if I can transfer to this school.”

“Oh! Hello!” She replied, flustered. “Um, yes, well… you’ll have to talk to the principal about that one!” She giggled nervously and smoothed out her shirt.

I nodded and sat down on the hard, slippery chair, waiting for the principal. Once she arrived I immediately stood up and walked with her to her office. The nameplate on her desk said Mrs. Gorman. I sat down on the edge of my seat and sat on my hands.

“So… I hear you want to transfer, correct?” She asked, peering over the rim of her glasses at me with her piercing blue eyes. She vaguely reminded me of Dumbledore from Harry Potter, except she was a woman.

“Yes,” I replied nervously, “I would greatly appreciate it.” I looked around the room, avoiding her gaze.

“You’ll have to get your parent or guardian to sign these papers, you have one, correct?” Her gaze intensified.

“Um…” my voice trembled slightly.

She smiled a small smile, as if in understanding something. I felt as if she had just read me. “No matter then, you could always forge, yes?”

I widened my eyes in shock, “W-what?”

Her laugh was tinkly despite her old appearance. “You seem like you’ve had a hard life, I think it’s time someone has given you a break.”

“Thanks,” I whispered unsurely.

“Here, just forge these right here,” She handed me a thick stack of sheets and I quickly made my way through the signatures.

I carefully placed the pen across the page when I was finished, and scooted the pages a few inches in front of her on the desk. But she wasn’t looking at them; instead her eyes were focused on me, boring holes into my brain. I couldn’t look away, it was impossible.

“You do not have a place to stay, do you?” She whispered.

My expression instantly turned guarded. Tell or not to tell, that is the question. Mine as well tell, I’ve already got the damned sheets filled out. “No… and I have a motorcycle so I can’t sleep on that…” My face fell into a heavily solemn look.

She smiled kindly at me, “You could live with me for a while, if you wish.” At my disbelieving stare she added, “My husband died a couple years ago, I live alone. It’d be nice to have some company once in a while.”

I felt as if I had to give her a warning as to what she was getting into. “I do not make the best… living mate. I am clumsy, quiet, and an unattractive and highly displeasing amount of danger lurks around me… even though I don’t know why,” I added the last part in a whisper.

Her smile did not falter in the least, but her eyes burned with curiosity. “It’s always good to have a healthy dose of danger once in a while,” she responded evenly.

I shook my head, casting my eyes downward. “It’s not healthy when it’s the only thing you have,” I muttered darkly. I glanced up at her through my eyelashes, only to see her eyes were probing my face, studying me intensely.

“My offer does not change,” she replied simply.

“A-are you sure?” I did not want to see the kind old lady’s life end because of me.

She nodded, but did not respond anymore. Instead she got up, grabbed her coat and bag, and beckoned me to follow her. I stood up unsurely and followed her out the door, through the office, and into the parking lot, where she stopped in her tracks when she saw my sleek motorcycle parked there.

“You drive that?” She murmured.

I bit my lip and nodded, sure she would tell me to get out of her sight. But instead a huge grin broke out onto her face. “It is very nice,” she whispered. “You can follow me on that to my house; it is not far from here.”

I nodded and ran to my bike, tripping a couple times but regaining my balance before I fell. I threw on my helmet, jumped on my bike, and raced after her car’s taillights.

I saw her brilliant blue eyes in the mirror, watching me with a smile in them. She looked younger than I’d seen her.