I am proud to introduce my new, story, The Pursuit of Bella Swan! Unlike my other two large stories, this idea is mine (except the obvious Twilight aspect), and was inspired by nothing else but a really cool thunder storm. I am insanely proud of it and I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: If there was a contest for who did not own Twilight the most, I'd so win.

Chapter One:
An Encounter of Unusual Circumstances

Something was going to happen.

She could sense it in the way storm clouds of the darkest gray spread across the twilight sky overhead, in how the sea beneath her raged, and in the creaking sway of the pier she was attempting to restore her balance on the railing of.

Like the crushing sound of boulders coming into contact, thunder rumbled overhead, sending chills down the girl's spine and drowning out her joyful laughter. She could see lighting in the distance, forcing the waves of the rebelling ocean into sharp contrast. The girl tilted her head back, the wind twisting her long hair in the turbulent air, and she reveled in the moment; the complete feeling of being in the center of such a powerful and commanding tempest. Wonder was written over her smiling face and her golden eyes twinkled with the elation of it.

Suddenly, as is usual with gales of this size, the purple-gray heavens seemed to open above her head and the rain came pouring down. The rain fell down on the girl, wetting her chestnut hair and splattering against the pier, the sound blending with the roar of the water, the crack of thunder and the scream of the wind.

A brilliant blast of lightning shot through the sky then, brightening everything around the pale girl on the railing and illuminating every drop for a second, making it look as though they were frozen in time, before leaving and plunging the sky into darkness once more.

It felt like the end of the world, and she loved it.

She was so caught up in the feelings and sensations of the storm, she hadn't noticed the other sounds at first. They caught her attention, forming an incoherent strain of noises through the gale. "-ff!" "wai-" and "-ell-" was what she could hear of the masculine voice, yelling desperately through the surrounding rain.

She looked back to the private beach where she, and many other wealthy Washingtonians, owned lavish sea-front properties, and saw a figure running through the rain-covered sand to the pier she was on, waving its arms and gesturing noticeably. She squinted through the downpour and recognized the person immediately.

It was her neighbor; his hair was plastered to his forehead and his clothes dragged down by the water clinging to them. Now that he was closer, she could hear him yell, "Get off the railing! It's too dangerous!" His bare feet, the girl guessed that he had run out of the house without a second thought to get to her, slapped on the old planking of the pier as he raced towards her, trying to save her from something that would never actually harm her.

The girl tried to swing her legs around on the other side of the railing to get off and face him, but there was a sudden lurch as a beam was broken by a wave and she was sent plummeting in the water. The fall wasn't very long, and she broke the water with a splash almost undetectable among the madness around her. She had no trouble with the pull of the waves, her kind didn't even need to breath, and she stayed under the water for a minute or two, getting ready to swim back to shore.

Little did she know that after she had fallen in, her neighbor had taken no hesitation in jumping in after her, throwing himself over the railing and diving into the angry sea, no fear for his own health, just thinking of the beautiful girl in danger.

He hit the water awkwardly and was immediately engulfed in a large wave, pulling him beneath. After several moments of intense struggle, he made it to the surface and gasped for air. He looked around quickly and guessed the direction that the girl had gone before starting his way through the frigid wave. He had lived beside the ocean all his life, and the natural skill of swimming took over so he was there in moments. He dove underneath the black water and searched blindly for any sign of her, and he feared he was too late.

But, in a stroke of miracle as brilliant and brief as the lightning overhead, he grabbed hold of something cold and distinctly ankle-shaped. Though he couldn't see it, the girl turned swiftly in the water and, with eyes that saw more than one would ever think possible, she was able to glimpse the boy's relieved and happy face before a wave came down upon them both, and pulled them further under.

The boy had managed to grab a hold around her waist and struggled to drag them both to the surface, which was yards away. What was left of his breath, the rest spent after almost two minutes under water, rushed out of his body in a fitful cough that racked the water around him for more air, but found none. With his arm still around the girl's waist, his head slumped and his body grew limp, slowly floating down to the pulsing water below.

The girl had no such troubles though. She pulled the boy safely in the iron strength of her arms and pumped her feet relentlessly. The sea seemed to have no hold on the angelic figure as she crossed it at an unlikely, some would think impossible, pace. She was surfacing on the shore in no time, the boy she was holding gasping for air like his life depended on it; which it did, come to think of it.

She dragged him up the beach and set him down when they were far away enough from the surf. After she called his name, a strange pleasure going through her chest when she did, several times, he stirred, gave another cough, and finally opened his eyes.

His heart stuttered and stammered at what he saw. Leaning over him was the vision of a siren that could shame any of Botticelli's creations. Was this personification of beauty truly his reclusive neighbor, who he had wondered and pondered over with frustration all these months? Surely that heart-shaped face and large, full lips couldn't belong to the soft-spoken student his father had told him of meeting once. Lightning flashed overhead and brightened the sky as bright as day for a moment, illuminating her already irradiated golden eyes and sending the boy into a daze.

She leaned down further over his body, her long and soaked brown hair tickling his face, and looked him straight in his large green eyes. She called his name once more in the sweetest voice he had ever heard and asked, "Are you feeling fine? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Finding that he couldn't even form words in her presence, he shook his head. A thought, other-worldly and implausible, sprang from his mind to his lips as he spurt out, "How did you get me here so fast? The pull was so strong and…and…" He couldn't continue on any more; his arms and legs ached from his struggles and his mind was slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that was taking over his body.

The last thing he heard was the girl as she whispered regretfully, "I'm sorry I got you caught up in this. So terribly sorry…"


It was dark when he opened his eyes once more. He was sitting on a soft, cushiony thing that felt exactly like his bed and tangled in material that strongly reminded him of his sheets. After a quick scramble, his muscles protesting for reasons he wasn't sure he wanted to believe, for the lamp on his bed side table, he found his assumptions to be true, and that he was in his bedroom.

His clock declared that it was a quarter past midnight and he guessed that the storm had decreased to a drizzle now, only a gentle pattering on the roof and sides of his house. He racked his brain, trying to make sense of something that seemed impossible. It must be a dream, God knows women that beautiful only belong in them, but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember how he had gotten to his bed in the first place.

He did, however, recall the figure sitting on the railing of the pier.

Sighing in confusion, the boy ran a hand through his hair and, amid the softness that only came from extensive brushing, an act he never took part in due to sheer laziness, there was a knot. This wasn't an unusual find in his messy locks, but the fact that it was stiff and grimy with sand threw him off. With the awful weather of the past two weeks, he hadn't been on the beach at all, and the only way for sand to become this ingrained in his hair would be if he had been purposely dragging himself through the sand, like-

Like his dream.

Alarmed, the boy jumped to his feet and looked over his body, not knowing what to find but strangely disappointed when everything appeared to be in order. He was in his pajamas, in his bed, in his room, at night. All signs pointed quite clearly, if not obviously, at the idea that he had been dreaming.

But it didn't feel right. It felt so real, unlike any dream he had ever had; the wind whipping in his face, the muted roar when he was in the water, and the feel of her worried hands fluttering over his chest, unsure if he was alright. Maybe it wasn't real, but he wished like Hell it was.

He didn't think he'd be able to sleep after that, so he wondered out of his room and toward the living room downstairs. A look in his parent's room as he passed told him that they still hadn't returned from the company party they had left earlier to attend. And a glance in the laundry room as he passed through the kitchen stopped him in his tracks.

Among the many heaps of dirty clothes, there was a small pile tucked in the corner, almost unseen. He felt as if he were unable to control his body as it walked over and bent down to inspect the garments on its own accord. It is what he had remembered wearing earlier that day, a simple pair of jeans and a thick wool sweater, but they were...wet… and clinging to the clothes in thick patches was sand.

In a strange daze, he reached out and touched it to make sure it was all real. It is not often that dreams turn out to be reality, but the grainy feel of the damp sand between his fingers assured the boy that this was one of those extraordinary instances. He grabbed hold of his shirt and felt something sharp come in contact with his fingers. He turned it over to the other side and saw something glimmering underneath a layer of sand. After some work of extricating it from the clingy wool of his sweater, he saw that it was a bracelet.

The unexpected find startled him out of his persistence of thinking of it all of as a dream and he studied it in a reverent fashion, gliding his fingers over the ornate and elegant chain. There was one large charm, in the shape of a heart, which was engraved with the letters I.S. After some mind-scraping, he recognized the name of his beautiful neighbor.

Sitting down heavily in a nearby chair, he held the bracelet up before his eyes and stared at it, hoping to unravel the mystery that was presented before him. The impossible way she dragged him through the ocean and up the beach, the speed which she was on shore and how she had gotten rid of almost any trace of her entrance, and the incredible beauty seemed to remind him of a story, far back in the corner of his mind that he just couldn't grab a decent hold of.

It slowly surfaced to his mind, reminding him of the day his father had told it to him after spending a day visiting one of his clients in a small town a while away. It had been some Indian reservation, and they had invited his father to a bonfire that night, telling old tribal stories. As he pondered over the possibility of its truth, his sixteen year old heart increased its beat in his chest, unable to wait for the morning when he would see her again.


When the boy would make the hesitant run to his neighbor's house in the morning, though, he would find it abandoned.

After she had done her best to clean his body and hair of any trace of what had happened, the girl disposed of his clothes, hoping desperately his mother would just think it was from another day. She hurried to her home, then, packing her rather small amount of clothes in a bag and placing white sheets over all the furniture. She really enjoyed living in this home, and she wished to return to it once more, when the threat of her secret being found out would pass over.

She was at the airport by the time the sun rose, booking the first flight to New York and waiting in the gate restlessly. When she was boarding the plane, she realized she had lost her bracelet somehow, and her heart broke a little. It was the only thing connecting her to her past, before the change. She could vaguely remember her parents buying it for her, as a birthday present. But it was too late to return now. The girl could go back to the beach house and search for it in a few years, not a long time at all.

She settled in her seat and prepared for the flight, unable to shake the sight of emerald green eyes from her brain.

Though she didn't know it, something had happened. Not just an accident like she assumed, but something that would change the entire course of her life in a way that she had never thought possible; so subtle in its beginnings that she moved on without a second thought of the events from that day. Even if she was aware, it would be too late to stop it; the desire had been fixed, and the wish dreamt inside the boy's heart, becoming the reason behind all actions and choices from now on.

That was the first time Isabella Swan met Edward Masen.

To clear things up: Edward is a sixteen year old human, living a life that is completely normal, or, at least, was, and Bella is a seventeen year old vampire. Her past will be cleared up later, so don't worry.

Thanks for reading.