A/N: I don't own Twilight or the characters in it, Stephenie Meyer does.

Darkness. Darkness is what seemed to consume my universe. Some days I couldn't tell where the darkness of my habitat ended and the blackness which preceded my visions began. There was one kind face amidst the void. Whether he was friend or foe did not matter because he was light.

He was the break to the monotony. I counted my days by his visits. I know little of him except he is so pale. Or maybe even this, the color of his skin, is exaggerated against the opposite background, and he really isn't that light, so unusually pale. No matter his pallor, he is kind. I care not who he is or what he does, he could kill a thousand daily, but as long as he returns to me, I will love him.

My visions are unclear. They are more like dreams of those I do not know, or nightmares of my own darkness, my eternal void, the eternal absence of life around me.

A change. I see visions of light. But I am afraid and alone.

I had felt arms around me. These cold arms coming from my light. They took me out of the pitch black. Once I recovered from the shock, I was lying on something cold. This surface crunched beneath me. A word…A phrase. My light speaks.

"I will hate myself for doing this, but I see no other way. I hate to protect you from him. I can't hide you because he will find you." A pause and a sudden move. "I will come back for you."

All I felt was pain. Pain. The time passed, but the true pain only begun once the physical pain stopped. I was alone. My only companion was my rancid clothes. My only possession was my name. I believe it was mine. At least I saw it was mine. Mary Alice Brandon. But what's a name?