I had never felt very comfortable anywhere. The reason behind this strange trait had never occurred to me. To this day, I've yet to figure out that question's answer.

Certain things made me question my own sanity. I would picture strange and usually extremely gore filled scenes in my mind-- for instance, playing how I might kill myself over and over again in my head. They were the most gruesome ways possible, as a matter of fact. Things like, bleeding to death in various ways, and somehow acquiring a gun and shooting myself in the head. I never thought of myself as clinically depressed. I had just never expected myself to a full --or even happy-- life. Like anything I wanted, I could come within mere inches of, yet could never actually get. I've told no one about this, yet my family and few friends would commonly ask me whether or not I was, in fact, depressed.

I had always pictured depressed people as being sad all the time. Possibly even mad at times. I was never sad all of the time. Just, a bit on most days. But I felt like when I was low; I was about as low as a person could possibly get. As if I were in a pit that seemed to have no opening, and was darker and colder than anything comparable. I've only told one person in my life when I was contemplating suicide. And she accused me of being too "scared" to actually go through with it. If I really thought about it, she was actually right. But that's not something you tell a suicidal person. Iwould expect them to worry and be upset and try to stop me. But she just blew me off, claiming to "know" me too well. One short week later, we got in a pretty stupid fight. It had created an invisible barrier preventing us from talking again. So, what could she possibly know?

Living with only a mom had never been much of a problem with me. She needed me. I was ok with that. But at one point, I felt the overall need to live with my dad. If that would mean convicting myself to the lonely town of Forks, Washington, I was ok with that as well. At any rate, now she had Phil to make sure she did the few things that were major on her daily agenda. So Forks was where I was headed.

My mom drove me to the airport. We didn't talk much, but I could tell she was unsure about the reason behind my unexpected trip. The flight, as expected, was grueling. I never liked having to sit still for long periods of time, so I found myself unconsciously tapping my fingers and feet in an obviously annoying manner-- as far as my fellow passengers were concerned. When we landed, I was relieved until I remembered the long drive to the actual town Forks, ahead with Charlie. Forks was actually so small, that it couldn't even fit an airport. How pathetic was that?

Okay, so Charlie. Charlie is the police chief of Forks. He and my mom separated when I was little, and I've spent my summers with him for as long as I could imagine. We had never really built up a relatively great relationship. We felt awkward and after a while, we had just learned to accept that.

I stepped off the plane and gave my dad a quick hug. We both knew I had never been fond of any displays of affection, so it didn't last long. When we got in the cruiser, the awkwardness began. Silence drifted among us for what seemed like hours. Then, he spoke.

"So, I got you a car.", he said shyly, not looking away from the road which was damp from the constant rain.

"Really? You know you didn't have to do that. I was planning on saving up my money and buying one myself." I was embarrassed to think of the time and thought he must have expended on my account. My heart sped up and my cheeks became hot and red.

When we finally got to Charlie's house, I saw my truck. And I loved it. And anyway, it was much better then being dragged around in a police cruiser.

I went up stairs to unpack. Charlie didn't hover, which I was grateful for. When I finished putting away my things in the old wood dresser, I stared out the window. It was dark, and it was raining, naturally. I placed my hand lightly against the glass and felt it's cool temperature. A violent shudder ripped through my body and a single, lonely tear slid down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away and lay down to go to sleep. I had an... Interesting day tomorrow. High school.

I groaned as my alarm clock went through it's programmed annoying ritual. Rolling over, I smacked my hand on it's top. Crap, school. I forced myself up and went to take a shower. I stood there in the mist and let the hot water loosen my tight muscles. Too soon, the hot water ran out and the water turned arctic cold, so I reluctantly stepped out. I brushed my teeth at a moderate speed, clearly uneager for the day ahead. After the morning routine was complete, I went down stairs and grabbed a granola bar on my way out of the house.

When I got to school, I went to the front office to check in. I was given a sheet of paper to have all the teachers sign and have back at the end of the day. My classes were normal. People were nice. I found that I had a lot more fans here of the male variety than I had at my old school. Only a few of the teachers made me stand up and tell the class a bit about myself. I had never liked having to do that. What was there interesting about my life? My parents were separated. I was normal. No boyfriends. Few friends, at that. Somehow I conjured up a passable story and went to sit down time and time again.

When I got home from school, I was exhausted. From the combination of my lack of sleep, early rise, and annoying day, I was thoroughly fatigued. I went to bed and the cycle started again.

This went on for about a month. I would usually check my e-mails to make sure my mom hadn't thought I'd died. Hah, that was actually funny. It would be normal of her to jump to such an impossible conclusion. Everything was normal. As normal as they had ever been, and as far as I knew, were ever going to be.


Another normal, boring Sunday. Charlie was fishing. My homework was done. I was bored. I grabbed my raincoat on a momentary feeling of exploration. I climbed into the cab of my faithful truck and started it. I still jumped at the sound of it and that made me laugh darkly.

I drove out of town and noticed I didn't know where I was going. I pulled off onto a dirt road surrounded by trees on either side. When I came to the dead end of this road, I turned off the truck and jumped out. I walked towards the towering wall of thick trees. Curiosity overwhelmed me. I took one step into the mass and didn't trip. I smiled, noticing I was actually very proud of myself.

I walked for two long, tiresome miles and I found I wasn't at all worn out. This surprised me. Usually a mile ago I would have been huffing and mentally cursing myself for doing such a stupid thing. But I felt as though I could go further. So I did.

I walked for about another mile and then started to feel the effects of my long day. I found a relatively dry, large pine tree and sat down beside it. I toyed with the slightly damp grass for a while, uprooting chunks and decapitating others, all the while trying to catch my breath, and then I felt a peculiar feeling. As though I could actually feel someone's eyes drilling a hole into the center of my back. But remembering I was in the middle of the vast northwestern forest, I doubted anyone was with me. Still, I couldn't shake the unusual feeling.

I saw a pale flash before my eyes. I looked around and saw nothing.

"What the--"

I was unable to finish my sentence with the hard, cold hand placed firmly over my mouth. My eyes widened and I tried to scream. Useless. The figure chuckled as I squirmed frantically and futilely trying to free myself. From the sound of it, I could assume my captor was a female. I strained my eyes to look behind me and I saw a strong, beautiful, and feminine hand, arm, and part of a body. She wore a plain black shirt and what looked like very baggy green cargo pants. Strange-- she seemed to have a very slender frame and yet she chose to cover it up.

In a blur, she spun me around and held me at an arms distance from her face, dangling in the air from her hand which had slyly moved itself from my mouth to my neck. I felt the air rush out of my lungs as this happened, and from the weight of my body all leaning on my neck held in her hand, I wasn't able to pull in more than an inward groan of pain.

She smiled and pulled me closer. She lessened the force on my neck and I pulled in as much air as my lungs would allow. In doing so, I noticed how amazing she smelled. Better than anything I had ever smelled and incomparable. She whispered into my ear something that at first was unintelligible. My thoughts were scrambled when I looked into her dark, menacing, and blood red irises. When I thought about it, the jumble sounded more and more like a warning.

"I shall change you. Dooming you to an ever so lonely life of night, never to be known, loved, or acknowledged." Her voice was alluring and terrifying all at once. It sounded more from a 1920's movie character than from a human from today. And when I said that in my mind, I decided something. This, whatever it was, could not be human.

And then, was when I felt her cool breath on my skin, and her sharp, wet teeth in the sweat covered layers of the skin of my neck.