A/N: First Twilight fan fic. Be gentle, loves. Of course, I do not own the characters.

Spin me around again,
and rub my eyes.
This can't be happening.

-Imogen Heap, Hide and Seek.


I remember the night when Edward Cullen told me what he wanted to do with his life during the next ten years.

We were seventeen, lounging in our meadow, staring up at the stars. He was laying with his perfect face was cradled in my lap, and I was idly stroking his unique and beautiful bronze colored hair that I knew no one else on the Earth could have.

We had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while, listening to nothing but the insects singing away in the thick, green forest, and the light breeze causing the leaves to rustle lazily against one another.



Still looking up the stars I squinted my eyes, pondering. "What do you want to do with your life?"

I felt him shrug, and exhale. I looked down at him. "Everything," he said, chuckling lightly. "I want to go to the University of Washington to become a doctor, just like my dad. I want to travel. I want to study in a foreign country. I want to write music. I want to go to Africa and help the children thereā€¦"

I remember feeling very envious, but not surprised, as he continued his list of plans and aspirations. I had never really had strong ambitions like Edward, but I did have a strong feeling in my heart that I wanted to stand by his side while he did all of those things. I wanted to be there as his equal, making sure nothing came between him in his journey to accomplish those goals.

So a year later, at the tender age of eighteen, I looked down at the plastic indicator in my trembling hands. As my stomach churned slowly while the two pink lines formed, I knew there was only one thing I could do for Edward, for myself. What kind of person would I be if I let these two little lines disrupt his inspiring future?

I reached a clammy hand over to my cell phone, found the correct number, and put the phone up to my ear.

Each ring sounded longer, more drawn out somehow.

"Hello?" A familiar voice answered.

I took in a deep, shaky breath. "Mom?"

"Bella, honey, what is it?" I could just picture her putting down her latest romance novel and sitting straight up in her white wicker chair out on her screened-in porch.

I closed my eyes and a single teardrop fell over my pale cheek. "Mom, I'm coming home."