Saving Isabella //ON HOLD\\

~Chapter one~

//AN\\ Okay, this is just a warning, this is my first book so obviously there are going to be grammar, and punctuation mistakes. I do plan to go and correct them so please don't mind them.

Any way! Enjoy the story! :)

~Chapter 1~

I woke up with a start. Franticly looking around, and grabbing at anything like my life depended on it.

When finally I calmed my self down to my normal heart rate, I looked down at my hands, to see that they were soaked in sweat. The nightmares just get worse every night.

Ever since the accident happened this has been my routine, I wake up with either screaming or thrashing around in my bed, and sweating like its summer time in the Sahara desert.

When I finally break myself out of my thoughts I look over to my alarm-clock on my nightstand. '4:30 a.m.' it reads. I sigh. I might as well get up. There's really no use going back to bed, when another nightmare might occur. Besides, I have to get up in an hour to get ready for school anyway.

You may be wondering a little bit about me. Well, my name is Isabella Parker. but my friends all call me Bella. Well, that is if I had any. I am 17 years old and going into my senior year in high school, I am about 5"4 and have long blond hair that reaches my waist. Not bleach blond, but not dirty blonde- a little bit in between. I'm not fat, but I am by far not the skinniest person on the planet. I'm just average. Sometimes I like to think I'm normal.

Probably what I like most about my body is my eyes. I got them from my mom. They are a sea green, but change to light blue when I'm really happy. Something that rarely happens anymore. Some people say I'm a spit image of my mom.

I am probably what the cool kids think are nerds. Yes, I admit it. I am a nerd. I pass all my classes with A's, but that's just because I listen and actually study, also,
I love books and music.

Music.

Probably what I love most in the world is that. Any kind really, pop, jazz, country, opera, classical. I play the piano, guitar, cello, flute- anything really. You name it, I can probably play it.

My little brother, Eli, is 10 and in the fourth grade. He's pretty tall for his age, around 4"11. He has dark brown hair and the same eyes as me. I think that that's the only reason you can tell that we're related- because we look nothing alike.

Honestly, I believe I am more traumatised from the accident then he is. Well, he wasn't even in the car when it happened, but still, he lost his parents.

I literally moved across the country with my little brother, to my uncle Markus's house in California, leaving everything and everyone I new there.

My home town is in Nashville, Tennessee. I know what y'all might be thinking and no, I am not some redneck hillbilly that doesn't even know what a toaster is. Ill have you know, that I make toast for breakfast almost every morning. Now yes, I have a slight southern accent but that's just from growing up there. Plus, I think I got it from my dad.

Why did I move you might ask? Well, it's a long story, and we'll get to that later. All you have to know is that my parents are dead, and I have this lovely scar going from my collar bone to my right hip bone. Please note the sarcasm.

My uncle Markus is my moms older brother, and only other sibling. I may have met him once when I was a baby, but I don't remember.

Family bonding right? Ya, no. He has no wife or kids and is completely busy with running his little Italian restaurant by the coast. Which is bazaar because my family has absalooty no Italian in them.