Bella felt like Repunzul. She had woken up to find herself in a tower. She was wearing a brown striped skirt with a white tunic, green bodice, and wrist bands that matched the bodice. The outfit had probably lost its appeal in the seventeen hundreds but still had a rustic sort of charm. [could someone tell me how to put a dress on your profile?] But, her hair was dirty, oily and in a bun that was very quickly falling apart, leaving strands of hair brushing up against her face and shoulders. She hated it when her hair got like that, it felt disgusting. Looking over, she saw the sunset through her window. It was beautiful, blazing yellow, orange, and pink. Staining the whole sky a florescent watercolor, each shade fading into the next. She was drawn to it. Leaning on the window sill she stared into its fiery, pastel depths, wishing she could share the moment with Edward. Aching for his touch, she slowly drifted into an uneasy unconsciousness.

She soon started to dream. In her dream, she was still watching the sunset, but now she felt oddly apprehensive. As if she knew something bad was coming. Suddenly the door to her room opened. She whirled around and flattened herself to the window sill. A tall, bald man, with a scar running down the length of his face, and a bushy, mangled, black beard, stepped into the threshold. It all came back to her now. The whole reason she was in this tall, guarded tower. She was awaiting the fulfillment of her death penalty. Isabella Swan had been accused of witchcraft.


Okay before you kill me, I have three good[ish] resons why I posted such a short chapter. One this is my first fanfic. Two, I love cliffies! (I know I'm evil! mwahahaha...) And three, I need all you Twihards out there to give me ideas as to why she was acuesed of witchcraft. And your idea just might be posted in my next chapter! And on that note, reveiw! please!

virtual bear hugs and air kisses,

Rosie