Upon gaining the frightening new knowledge of the definite existence of another life for me, I had seated myself on the ground and leaned against the wall of some unknown building. I felt strange- nauseous, and yet cold and completely unfeeling. I heard the world around me quiet and silence itself, though out of respect for me or simply because they slept, I did not know. For the first time that I could remember, my head ached. I searched for some comforting vision of the Cullens, but could find none.
Strangely, I began to feel a pull from behind the wall, as if long, invisible fingers had grasped me by the chest and tugged, unable to pull me through the wall. My brow furrowed, and in an instant I was erect. The previously bustling streets were completely empty, with not a soul in sight. I began walking around the front of the building, looking for an explanation for the pull. It seemed to get stronger as I approached the door of the building. I glanced at the sign above it. It was red and faded, with big black letters that declared the place "Honey's House of American Dining". It looked nice, so I went in, wondering why I was entering. I knew that I couldn't eat food.
The interior of the restaurant was all yellow, faded, and peeling. It looked like it was supposed to mimic the Old West. I subconsciously made myself as small as possible and maneuvered over to a rusty barstool. I perched on it so that I was facing the rest of the place. A couple of small families sat around the edges of the restaurant on dilapidated tables. A surprising amount of couples were eating there- it did not seem like a romantic place. A bearded old man stood behind the bar, cleaning off what looked like a beer stain on the counter, and a young waitress hummed merrily whilst delivering a basket of bread to one of the couples. Done with my analysis, I turned around on the stool, only to whip back around again when the door opened.
The reason for this was that, at that moment, the pulling sensation had gotten unexplainably unbearable. I felt like I would fall off of the seat. I jumped down as quickly as I could without attracting attention and made my way to the gentleman at the door. He did not look surprised to see me. The waitress watched us warily. Until I reached him, I had not recognized the man. When I finally got a good look at him, I knew that he was the man- the vampire- from my vision.
"I've been waiting for you," I said quietly.
He just ducked his head like a good southern gentleman and said, "I'm sorry, ma'am."
A/N: I am sorry if this ending isn't what you wanted. I may write a sequel. I know this isn't exactly what it sai din the title, but I really wanted to end it this way.