***Disclaimer…I do not own Twilight or anything that involves there characters, this all belongs to S. Meyer.
I hate flying almost as much as death. Death seems to be a curse on my life. I sure have endured enough death to last me a lifetime or so I would think I have. I am currently on a plane from California where I had lived with my mom and siblings until a couple days ago. Now I am sitting next to one of my mom's old friends from Washington. I can't understand or grasp how she could be gone. How she could just leave us all alone? She once let it slip how dangerous it was for Anthony and me when it was just the two of us. Then when she found out she was expecting again she new we were in danger. She promised me she would never let anything take her away from us. Yet she was murdered along with my twin brother Anthony.
You might say that it's sad that happened but its more than that. You see my mom was hiding a secret that could destroy so many lives. My brother had a special talent he could read a person's mind so when someone began pounding on our door that awful night, he knew they had murder on their mind. He yelled for my mom to leave with Rosie and me, but mom instead hid us in the panic room. I had to watch as someone tortured my family and then burn them alive. I don't know how someone could do that. The man who sat next to be keeps asking me questions, but for some reason I don't think he would really like the answers to them. I don't even know if I would want to know the answers to them.
I am still somehow missing a puzzle piece to that night. The police found three partial bodies, one being my mom, another being my brother and then the third belonging to the murderer. My question though is how she got burned and why was there so much destruction to our home when there were only three people struggling, yet it looked like a wrecking ball had entered the house. I felt the plane jerk a little as I could hear the wheel being let down. We would be landing shortly in Port Angles. I don't know what to expect, I was really little the last time I saw Grandpa Charlie, and Rosie who was only 8 had never met him. Mom was always moving us around.
A/N Let me know if you like it or hate it. This will decide if I continue it or not. I have some great ideas on where take this story, but I will let you the readers decide if I continue or not.