I’ve been reading a few fics lately about Edward and Bella having a baby (because she’s still human). But what if it was too late for that? I guess that’s where this idea came from. Let’s see how it goes.

Disclaimer: Twilight/New Moon/Eclipse … not mine.

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I’d always known my parents were not like other parents. Sure, they nearly smothered me to death with their love, but that’s not what I mean. They did not chaperone field trips, or eat dinner with me, or take me picnicking on sunny days. They did not socialize much with neighbors, and they never fought, never raised their voices, not with me or with each other. I knew they were unusual in other ways too, for it wasn’t just their behavior. My parents looked different. No, they weren’t hideously deformed or missing limbs. To put it simply, my parents were beautiful. And when I say beautiful I mean heart stopping, head turning, too gorgeous to be human beautiful.

I remember hoping, praying as a child that I would be as stunning as my mother when I grew up. But I was not. I was a cute baby, then a cute toddler, then a cute kid, and then a cute teenager. That’s it. I was cute. There were times I may have looked pretty, but that’s all. I didn’t make boys trip over their feet. I guess that’s okay though. I made people smile, wearing bows in my long brown hair and colorful clothing- colorful expensive clothing. Yes, how could I forget? My parents were also unbelievably rich. I had no idea why. “Family inheritance,” they had told me, conveniently forgetting to elaborate.

My parents were always vague with answers. By twelve years old I’d learned to stop asking questions. I just needed to accept whatever I saw or heard. As far as they were concerned, I did not need to know anything about them; yet, they expected to know everything about myself. How was school? Did you ace that AP Stats test? Are you going to prom? Do you have work later? Anything on your mind, dear? The questions refused to cease. At twelve, I gave up resisting those too. I was always a bad liar. It wasn’t worth the brain power. Out of everyone in my high school, I was probably the only teenager to be completely open and honest with her parents. My bizarre and beautiful parents with golden eyes.

I have to confess, I’m not the most observant person in the world. I was sixteen before I realized my parents didn’t look as aged as others around town. They had no wrinkles, no gray hairs, and showed no evidence of their expanding years. It got to the point my friends started hitting on my Dad, fooled by his boyish appearance into thinking he was a new transfer student and not a parent coming to pick his daughter up from school. Ugh. It was horrible. I felt even worse when guys would catcall to my Mom. There were many times I wanted to yell back, “She’s too old for you!” but couldn’t. The truth was, I didn’t know how old either of my parents was. When I was a child and asked they’d say, “Older than you.” And nothing more.

They were so secretive I found it unnerving. I was a little paranoid. Maybe they were spies and feared the house might be wired by an enemy? Were we under a witness protection program? My imagination ran wild, clinging to anything that might rationalize their actions. But it wasn’t just them. It was the whole family. How could I find an excuse for the whole family? All beautiful and mysterious. For crying out loud, even my Grandmother was wrinkle free and million-dollar model material. When I sat down and seriously considered all this for the first time I thought my brain would explode. I bet my parents could smell the smoke coming out of my ears.

My sixteenth year came and went, and on the eve of my seventieth birthday I sat them down in the living room. “May I ask you something?” I’d been raised to always speak politely, a quality that classmates found humorous and teachers endearing.

My father looked a bit on edge, frozen in his seat. Frozen, I giggled inside my head, he was frozen all the time. His pale skin was like ice. My mother’s too. She reached out, running her thin fingers though his coppery hair, succeeding in loosening his tight shoulders. I didn’t know why he was so nervous. I rarely asked anything serious. Yet, maybe he could sense this was different. I was tired of busting my brain for answers to unasked questions. I wanted the truth.

My mother smiled kindly. “Yes, sweetheart?”

Where to start? There were so many things I wanted to know. I wonder, if someone had told me my questions would eventually bring about my death, would I have continued? Would I have gone upstairs to bed, forgetting everything, or would I have taken the risk? I do not know.

All I knew was the pounding of my heart in my ears, excited but filled with dread. My mother. There was something different in her topaz eyes that day. She wanted to tell me everything, despite however my father might feel.

“Bella.” I heard the warning in his soft voice, but she waved it off.

“Hush, Edward.” She was tired of puzzles missing pieces, the same as I. “Go on.” She urged, returning her attention to my face. “Ask away.”

And I did.

There are two things a teenage girl does not want to hear: the first, that she is adopted, the second, that her parents are dead- well, in my case, the living dead. Quite a bombshell. When my mother was finished speaking, I felt numb. Then someone turned out the lights. Okay, it was more like my brain turned out the lights. When I woke up my head was throbbing. I lay in my bed for a long, long time just staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what I’d been told and what I’d always somehow known.

When my stomach, ravenous for food, compelled me to leave my room, I found my parents waiting downstairs at the kitchen table. They’d ordered me some Chinese take out. The beef and broccoli satiated my hunger quickly, and as I picked at the rice inside the folded white origami box, I looked up at my mother and father. Their expressions were unreadable. They only got that way when they were upset and trying to hide their feelings.

“I love you.” The words left my lips easily because they were true. I knew if I were them, the loss of my admiration would be their greatest fear. I assume I guessed correctly, because hearing me speak, my mother leapt gracefully forward, wrapping her cool arms around my frame. My father smiled that joyful crooked smile I hadn’t seen for a couple of weeks.

“We love you too.”

“I know.” I felt myself smiling too. They would not have told me the truth if they did not love me. Vampires. My parents were vampires. That was… kind’a awesome. I could deal with that. The mental blow came more with the phrase “you’re adopted”. I wanted to know why, and how. I wanted to know about their lives, before me, with me. Was it hard keeping a human child? Did they want me, or had I been thrust upon them? Was I part of that “family inheritance” my father sometimes mentioned, or had that only been an excuse for certain things all my life?

Knowing it was well past the time school normally began, I figured I’d take my first sick day of the year. My parents didn’t object. Finishing up my meal, I opened my mouth without fear. “May I ask some more questions?”

My mother leaned in to kiss my forehead. “Anything. It’s your birthday, so I can’t say no.”

“Bella-”

“Edward.” She cut him off, glaring in his direction. For the first time, it seemed like they might fight. That is, until they both began to laugh. And although confused, I decided to laugh too. We left the kitchen, settling into the living room. I curled up on my favorite couch, hugging a soft squishy pillow tightly to my chest. I was reminded of earlier days, when I would do the same, and my mother would read me books of princesses and knights. But the story I was going to ask of her now was not some fairytale. It was her life and the life of my father.

Correction. It was the story of my parents’ afterlife, and I held my breath when she finally began.

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I have to figure out how this story is going to work. I think, since Bella is telling the story, it will switch to her perspective. That way it would read like the normal books… or something. I dunno. We’ll have to see. Point out my mistakes. Thanks a bunch for reading!

-SilverYouko300