I don't own any characters. they belong to Stephenie Meyer


I was born Isabella Marie Brandon, the first daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Brandon. My parents were well-known in the small town of Biloxi. Of course, after an incident that happened in 1905, their popularity peaked; people across the state could see their faces from every newspaper. I could still remember the headings; they were burned into my mind by grief and anger.

I did not have a lot of memories from my human life, of course, I could remember my parents and my two little sisters. Cynthia was always a nice one, she was always quiet, liked reading, and getting into discussions with me about books and poetry. Mary, although she only turned four when I was abducted, was my favorite. She had so much life in her eyes, always running around; her laughter could be heard in all the rooms in the house.

My human life ended in December 1905, a day before Christmas. I had plans to spend that day with the Frays, a family that I was supposed to marry into in a few weeks. Mr. Fray was my dad's business partner and this union could only mean a better business opportunity for both parties. Celebrating Christmas Eve with my soon-to-be in-laws meant a great deal not only for me but for my family too. Mary asked me not to go, she told me that something bad was going to happen; however, me, being as stubborn as I always have been, just brushed it off.

I do not remember how it all happened, the next memory that I have is agony, my body felt like it was on fire, with my heart beating out of my chest. I remember screams, if they were mine or someone else's, I am not sure.

The pain was leaving my body an ounce at a time, and then finally I could not feel anything. I could not feel my heartbeat; however, I was able to hear sounds and voices around me. I opened up my eyes thinking that I was in heaven, as it is not possible for a human to experience this much pain and just wake up as nothing has happened. At least, that is not what I read in the books.

I saw a tall man standing next to where I was lying, he looked like an angel for the most part. His honey blonde hair was curling around his face, pale skin was sparkling in the sun and he smelled like daffodils and…and blood. He started talking and my eyes quickly scanned his face, stopping at the red eyes of the stranger.

"Hello, Ma'am." His voice sounded so melodic and pure.

"Where am I?" If I haven't just felt my lips moving, I would have never guessed that it was indeed my voice.

"Just outside Houston. I can feel that you are nervous. Don't be. I will tell you everything. My name is Jasper, I won't hurt you."


The year was 1920 now. I was once again walking in my hometown, Biloxi, Mississippi. This new life that was given to me was treating me pretty well. As I passed houses and stores, I could not help myself but remember my human life. My parents, sisters, fiancé, the Christmas Eve of 1905. But now I was not walking these streets alone, I had a best friend, a brother by spirit and nature, Jasper Whitlock. For this trip, we both had to cover our faces. Luckily for us, the weather was cloudy, so we could go around the town during the day. Unluckily for us, my face was well-known by all of the residents of this small Mississippi town, so a dark veil that I clipped on my hat was a necessity.

The reason for this trip was to check up on my sisters. I missed them a great deal, and could not help but wonder how their lives turned out. It was easy to find Cynthia since she has married a man who was originally supposed to marry me. I was not jealous or envious, just happy that my little sister looked joyful, at least from where I could see her in the window. I could also see a little girl, no more than 5 years old by her side; my niece, I guess.

"Where to next?" Jasper asked me. I turned my head to him. 15 years have passed, and he still looked the same, maybe a little bit tidier. Since the time we left Maria and her fight for land over a year ago, Jasper was trying his best at making it up to me for turning me into a vampire.

"My parents' house."

"Lead the way. Your sister is happy, you know." I smiled at him. His gift of empathy was very useful, especially on this trip.

It took us a good twenty minutes to get to my parents' house at human speed. It was the way I remembered it. A two-story building made out of dark red bricks with some wooden panels. We stopped at the big tree right next to the backyard. I listened to what was happening inside. There was crying and arguing, and from what I could hear this was not the first time that my parents were fighting about this topic. Mary. My little Mary Alice.