𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 ✓

three ✓ pretty pink bandaid

chapter ; three

title ; pretty pink bandaid

act one ; twilight

Isla scrambled out of bed. Her fluffy, messy, bird's nest of dirty blond hair was everywhere. There was even a glob of dried drool in the corner of her mouth. The seventeen-year-old grabbed a handful of clean clothes and rushed into the bathroom where she would do her morning routine. Like when she would spend good something minutes brushing her teeth all well making a mess trying to get dressed.

Stripping from her pyjamas she slipped into the hot shower. A hot shower that calmed all her nerves. Which helped Isla's nerves for her school day, she was nervous to see Alice, that's for sure.

The teenager stepped out of the shower, making sure to turn it off too. She wrapped a towel around her body before she started to brush her teeth and wash her face. Isla almost forgot to brush her hair, thinking she could just hide the bird's nest in a hat. (she knew that wouldn't work.)

Her tangled hair continued to catch between the bristles of the brush. That caused her to pull even harder as she brushed her hair. — was it even brushing? it seemed to be more a game of tug-o-war.

Isla got dressed in the outfit she had gathered well running out of her room. It was a simple hoodie and jeans, something she hoped wouldn't draw an insane amount of attention. Maybe it would draw Alice's attention to her though, but Isla didn't seem to mind.

She barrelled out of the bathroom and down the hall towards the staircase. Her feet make a thumping sound with every step. She took the first few steps carefully, but once her grandma called her she skipped a few, causing the girl to skip the last five steps or so.

Isla fell forward. The teenager shot her hands out to stabilize her fall but ended up still hitting her head against the floor anyways. Clumsy, right? Just above her right eyebrow was a small cut that puddled blood.

She also wasn't sure how she had a slightly bruised eye, but again, she was questioning herself that she had fallen off her bed in the middle of the night and then just gotten back in — but she wouldn't know for sure.

And she even had her hand bandaged, from when she had some questionable thoughts at three-thirty in the morning the night before.

She felt nothing but a slight sting, also knowing she's had worse accidents than this. Her grandparents weren't too concerned nor worried since this happened all the time. Isla's grandfather, Mark, handed her a washcloth to clean her face. Isla grabbed her beanie off the kitchen table and placed it on her head, just before grabbing her backpack and leaving the house.

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Isla was still new, and everyone fawned after her. Not that she paid attention to that. Her attention was on her grades, family, Alice, and not much else. Maybe the bumps and bruises that covered her from head to toe.

But still, being new, meant people stared. No one knew her truly, which caused even more people to stare. It was a great excuse for the students of forks high to stare and whisper behind her back.

When Isla's grandparents dropped her off and she jumped out of their car and started to walk into the school and towards her first class. She bet that the thoughts everyone was thinking were about herself. Some good, some bad. And some probably even ranging from how she looked—which was dead. Maybe she got so many stares because she was friends with Alice Cullen, or because no one knew why she moved here to forks.