Author's note: Twilight is the intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer. This is only fan fiction. Imprinted is a character study of Renesmee Cullen and also a dark comedic exploration of imprinting. Unlike everything else I write, this one has a T rating. I've tried to keep it as clean as possible.


She wrote three books and gave them to me. The cover of the first one inexplicably had an apple being presented in a pair of hands. Original sin? Self important, much? The second book depicted a new moon; the darkest of night skies. Poor Bella, sniff. The third was an eclipse; the sun was completely obscured in shadow. Edward was the shadow. Fair Jacob was the sun.

These were the journals of Isabella Cullen, which I have aptly re-named Bella Kicks Jacob in the Nuts Repeatedly.

I know a thing or two about great literature: true romance requires tragedy and sacrifice. In these books, my parents had yet to learn the meaning of sacrifice. Save the happy endings for bad Hollywood interpretations of love.

This is my love story and I am the daughter of injustice. I will tip the scales.

Chapter 1 - Petulant Demon Spawn

I could hear more than they gave me credit for with my diminished half vampire senses. I stretched out in my single bed and pulled the duvet up to my chin listening to the sounds our house made in the night. Water dripped against the ancient stone walls and collected into the leaf strewn gutters with a muted slosh. I sighed, rolled over and extended my toes over the edge of the bed.

"A child's bed," I muttered in frustration. My little voice reverberated a gentle soprano and I felt kind of lame. I had a child's voice, tiny hands, darling curls and barely any breasts to speak of. I was a child, I was an ancient, I was an immortal...mostly just an angst ridden teenager if I'm being honest with myself.

Listening still, I could hear my parents muffled laughter... Ew, I didn't want to listen to that. All the same it reminded of the reason I bloody well couldn't sleep in the first place. I sat up in bed and placed my hand against the tiny lone window in the room, as if I was projecting my mind into the night. My body ached, every inch of my tiny frame burned with thirst.

Was it only thirst, though? I squeezed my lids shut wishing desperately I had some way to protect my thoughts.

In the distance I could barely make out the cries of the wolves running patrol, singing their tuneless song of howls and whimpers. There was only one howl that I was trying to find but it evaded me tonight.

When morning broke I had still not slept.

"Who do you have to kill to get some blood around here?" I called out, noisily stomping out of my room to give the star-crossed lovers fair warning that their half-breed love child was awake and they should not be in any state of disarray. It was lonely, being on the other side of their bubble. Their insatiable need for each other alienated everyone else, even me...especially me.

I found Romeo and Juliet in the front room looking decidedly abashed.

"I'm thirsty."

My parents said nothing. I was met only with their ridiculously parental expressions, contorting their youthful facades.

"Um, yeah. So I was wondering if I could borrow the car? I'd like to hunt big game."

My mother appeared perplexed by my ordinary request.

"I won't be gone for long. I'm thinking of going to Canada for a few days".

"No," my father said flatly and I flinched. Lying was so reflexive.

"That's so annoying, Edward." I emphasized my father's first name because I knew it annoyed him. I punctuated my sentence with an involuntary pout and placed my fists firmly on my hips. My resolve was unwavering.

"No," he repeated smoothly. "You can have at least enough respect for your mother and I to tell the truth."

"Maybe you can tell me what I'm looking for because I sure as hell don't know!" I raged, feeling on the edge of a full blown tantrum. Red coloured everything I saw; the desperation, the fire and the thirst. Surely Daddy knew I could not be reasoned with this morning.

My father sighed and darted his eyes to the door.

You think I'm looking for him? I'm thirsty, I told you already. That was not a lie.

"That wasn't the lie you told, no."

I don't know where I'm going! Can you understand my need to get away and clear my head? Everything feels so muddled.

"Nessie, you are blocking your own mind from yourself."

Am not!

"Are too," he chuckled softly.

My mother wasn't going to stand for this one-sided conversation for much longer. She chewed on her lip expelling a frustrated sigh. I placed a hand on her face and she gasped.


I removed my hand.

What did I show her? All I was thinking was, "Am not!"

"Are you sure?"

Fifteen days?


I didn't mean to think that.

"It's hard to control one's thoughts."

What else?

"I'd rather not say."

My mother spoke up then. "It was Jacob. You were thinking about drinking his blood."

That's not so bad.

"From his femoral artery."

A flash in my mind of his naked thigh.


Author's Note: Naked Jacob Black thighs to jkane180 her beta work. I'm in the process of editing Imprinted.