Oh my goodness, hello! I don't know why exactly, but I seem to have had a writing revival…so this was the story that I felt the most inspired to update at the moment….so here we go.

First things first, now that I'm four years older than when I originally wrote this…I realize how crappy my grammar and writing was…so please, don't be hatin' on my middle school self. I'm going to re-edit some of this so that I don't cringe when I read it…P.S. In this version, everything is the same as in the books, except for Jacob never imprinted on Renesmee.




Moving boxes is probably one of my least favorite things to do. My family moved around a lot when I was little. Dad was a military man, and Mom wrote children's books. Sometimes when Anna and I were little, we would go up in her studio, and play with the paint she used for the illustrations. Mine always came out as a muddy goop…but Anna always somehow managed to make something pretty out of hers. My mom never said that though…no matter how much of a disaster my little fingers managed to make, she would help me guide the brush across the paper to make something beautiful…that what mom's are best at. Making beauty out of nothing.

… Dammit, I've started to think about them again. I had learned the hard way over those first few weeks, how to handle the grief. Thinking about them made my chest start to hurt, and then my eyes would start to sting…. before it would finally suck all of the energy out of me, like a giant, rusty drain. So when they popped into my head, I just learned to close my eyes and hum to myself. Singing, that much I could do well. I couldn't draw, and I was terrible at any form of arts and crafts… but I could sing. And somehow, it made me feel a little bit better.

So I picked up the box, humming as I did so, and carried it down the steps. I glanced out the window, watching the sunlight pour in across the floor. The whole house was empty now. Anna and I had decided to sell most of the furniture. We kept some things…like Anna's old 20's trunk, the grandfather clock, and the piano, but the couches and tables were gone. The box I was carrying now had most of the family photo albums in it. I hadn't opened it—I couldn't. Not yet. Looking at it made the drain start back up.

I opened the storm store and scampered across the yard, hearing the door slowly creak shut behind me. I shoved the box into the UPS truck and sighed. Without the furniture, all we needed was one of the smaller transport trucks. We only had one living relative, our Uncle, Charlie Swan. Uncle Charlie…well, his wife Renee had left him years and years ago, and his daughter, Bella, had gotten married right out of high school. Apparently she was diagnosed with Leukemia a few months later and passed away. It was too bad, really.

So, when our parents passed on, Charlie was more than happy to take us in. He wasn't exactly a touchy feely guy, but I appreciated that. He wasn't trying to be our dad, and he wasn't trying to make it better. He was just there. I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced up.

"Speak of the devil…" I muttered. The middle aged, grizzled man raised an eyebrow at me and grunted. "Nothing, Uncle Charlie. I think that was the last of it." He put his arm around my shoulders silently, not saying a word. He didn't need to. We both understood. And just…just being held made me feel a lot stronger than I really was.

I heard the door screech again and glanced up. Anna was standing on the porch, looking over the yard sadly. The grass was crunchy with frost, and her breath fogged up in front of her. I followed her eyes, knowing her thoughts. This was where we had carved pumpkins, played in sprinklers, raked leaves, and set up Christmas lights. There was an old, worn tire swing hanging from the maple tree…my dad had set it up two years before, saying if me and my sister were going to have an 'all American childhood', we had to have a tire swing. I had argued that it was too late for two fifteen year olds to do that, but he had laughed and ignored me.

This was probably the last time we would ever see our home.

I reached somewhere deep, deep, inside of me, and found an odd sort of calm. It wasn't some weird, saint like calm…it was just…peace. I walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulders.

"Come on, let's go…" I said gently, giving them a gentle squeeze. She looked up at me and smiled tearfully. My chest panged…. seeing her cry, it was probably one of the most painful things I had ever seen…because there was nothing I could do about it. I lead us both to the truck, and she climbed up into the middle. Charlie was in the driver's seat, and I was in the passenger's seat.

This was the beginning of a grueling drive that stretched out over four days. We took five hour shifts while driving, and would occasionally make rather interesting gas station stops. Three motels and several Big Macs later, we were pulling into Forks. We had left the hotel in Seattle early that morning, and it was about noon by that point.

My cheek was resting against the window, cold and sore. Anna was leaning against me, and Charlie was hunched over the wheel ruggedly. No one walked away from a drive like this looking good… and we looked like the Adam's family on crack by this point. My hair was up in a loose pony tail, with stray locks of hair pouring around my face, and I was in a rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. I had circles under my eyes, and I was sore all over from sitting in a truck for that long. Long story short? I looked like hell. Anna and Charlie didn't look much different.

I lifted my head and took in the scenery around me. It was a small, forlorn town at best…but it was comfortable. I could live with that. It was drizzling lightly, casting a light mist and damp smell over everything. I couldn't help but smile a little. I loved the rain. Though I couldn't explain why if you asked… it just made me feel cozy, and clean…

Like I said, I have a hard time putting words to the feeling. The gravel crunched under the tires as the truck pulled up into his driveway. It was a small, cozy house, with yellow shutters. It wasn't what I had expected exactly, but once again, I didn't mind. I sat up and yawned, jostling Anna awake with me.

"What's up?" she groaned, rubbing her eyes. I rolled my shoulders and pushed some loose hair behind my ears.

"We're here…" I mumbled, just as Charlie rumbled

"This is it." I reached over and opened the door, sliding out of the truck in one swift movement. I gasped and hunched over as all of the blood rushed back into my legs at once…It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but at the same time…it wasn't over all unpleasant. A sudden movement made me jerk my head up.

There were some trees just beyond the house, panning out into a large forest. After a moment of thought, I walked towards it, calling back to Anna and Charlie "I'll be back in a second, I just need to stretch my legs…" I walked closer to the woods, skirting around rocks and fallen tree trunks. Looking down at my sneakers, I groaned in dismay as I felt water seep into my socks. Now I was going to have to deal with that squishy, nasty feeling all day.

By the time that I had reached the edge of the tree line, I knew that I should turn back. My heart was stuttering, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up…someone, was…watching me. Something inhuman….something…predatory. I peered into the trees, only seeing shadows and branches…but then something in them moved.

I gasped and stumbled backwards, falling over a branch and landing rather ungracefully on my butt. All the breath in my body escaped me in a loud "Oof!" why was I so stupid? I see something move in the woods. It could be a bear, a serial killer, or some creepy twelve year old with a cam corder. Either way, it was nothing I should've gone near, but what do I do? I walk closer to the damn thing. And if it is a bear, then I'm royally screwed. They don't have that many bears in Virginia…the whole state is too urbanized for any of them to live close to us. We lived in Alaska for a while, but that was in Anchorage, and any bears that lived close didn't go into town… In other words, I had no idea of what to do in the case of a bear attack. Charlie didn't have his gun on him, and even if he did, a bear would have plenty of time to make a tooth pick out of me before I could get help.

I didn't hear anything…just heavy panting. And from the sound, it was something big. "Oh god, don't be a bear, don't be a bear, don't be a bear…" I mumbled, summoning up all of the courage I had to look up slowly and unthreateningly.

Much to my mixed relief, it wasn't a bear…

…but it was relatively the same size as a grizzly. At first, all I could see was paws the size of my head. Then long, powerful legs…four of them…Lifting my head a little more, I saw a tail.


No way in hell.

I may have not watched Animal Planet religiously like Anna, but even I knew that no wolf could get this big. But by the time I had lift my head, there was no denying it. It was a huge, russet brown wolf, and it was staring right at me.

I knew it was probably the stupidest thing in the world to do, but the words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them, because I'm a genius like that.

"…Hi there…"

Did you guys like it? Be gentle, it's my debut chapter from my hiatus. I promise I'll update the rest as soon as I can. Okay, you guys know how this goes—R&R!