Hey guys! I'm back! This one is going to be a little different then "Where you Belong". I hope you enjoy it!

As always I want to thank my Beta, Yuki Sakura-Chan! She is amazing!

Disclamier: I don't anything! I'm just playing in Stephenie Meyers sandbox for awhile!

Growing up in Forks Washington in 1883 there was only four things that you needed to know.

One, you listened to your pa no matter what. Two, you did your chores with no complaint. Three, you worship God Almighty every chance you got and four, you steered clear of the Cullen boys no matter what.

Until I was sixteen, I followed those four rules diligently. I never had a problem with any of it. My pa raised me, my brother and little sister all on his own. My mama died shortly after giving birth to Abigail, my sister. The pregnancy was tough on her, taking its toll on her body to the point that it was impossible for her to recover. Ten days after she brought new life to this world, she slipped away from us, her soul joining the others in heaven.

When my mama passed, I was only seven, but I took on taking care of the household duties. I made breakfast, the midday supper and dinner. My pa spent most of his waking hours in the fields that surrounded our house, planting oats and corn. The only way survive in these parts are to farm or ranch, pa never had the gumption or money to ranch. Nor the hands to help him. Now my brother, Benjamin, joins him the fields everyday.

So I am left the duties of taking care of Abby and making sure that they house ran in order. I had a schedule that I stuck to everyday. Monday, Wednesday and Friday I did the wash by hand in the little creek that ran through our backyard. Pa built a soapbox on edge of it a few years ago, it was nice. I could take the soiled linens out there to get a good soak without having to do all the hard work of packing the water back and forth, the only down fall was the icy water tended to stiffen up my fingers before I could finish a whole load. But as I stated before, you do your chores without complaint.

After soaking the linens and then hanging them out to dry. Abby and I spend the rest of the afternoon pulling vegetables to jar on the off days. We spent every Thursday jarring everything in sight for winter. Winters in Washington were rough, snow and rain made it impossible to grow anything during those months, so it was my responsibility to make sure that I jarred enough food to last us during that time. On Tuesday's I baked the breads for the week and did the inside chores. Dusted, swept, changed the bedding and did any mending that needed to be done.

With Benjamin on the teetering edge of fourteen, the mending had become more often then not. He was constantly rough housing with the McMillan boy down the road, coming back in with burs stuck in his hair and the knees on his birches tore out. I swear that boy was going to be the death of me.

Abigail was a different story though, being just a babe when mama passed made her like my own. She slept in bed with me in the room that I shared with Ben. His bed under one window and ours under the other. Being almost nine made her my shadow, always under foot and wrapped up in my skirts. She was the spitting image of my mama, her blonde hair hangs in loose curls to her bum and her blue eyes always twinkling with mischief. I imagine it's just what my mama looked like at her age.

Ben on the other had was a mixture of pa and mama. He had blonde hair, straight as a stick. The same blue eyes as Abby, but my pa's build, even at fourteen he was already towering over me by a few inches.

Then there was me. I looked like my pa. Brown hair, that carried my mama's curl. Brown eyes, that didn't twinkle with mischief. I did have my mama's heart shaped face. That was it. I use spend hours looking in the mirror trying to see my mama after she had died. I finally gave up when pa caught me doing it one day and snapped at me that mooning at myself in the mirror wasn't gonna bring mama back from the dead.

I learned early on that mooning over anything was a waste of time.

Back to my schedule. Saturday was the day we all spent out in the field together, planting oats and helping weed. It was my least favorite day of the week.

And Sunday was spent worshipping God. Pa, bless his heart, would gather us all up for church every Sunday. Made us put on our best dress and he even spit combed his brown hair till it laid flat on his head. He kept it up for a few months after mama died, but after the third single lady was shoved in his direction from her over bearing father, pa decided that he could worship God just as well from the front porch at home, as he could in a hard pew at church. But that didn't mean that we all got to stay home. Nope, Pa commissioned Mz. Jensen from down the road to take us all In with her every Sunday.

Mz. Jensen was also a widow, but at ten years Pa's senior he never worried about her trying to nudge her way into our lives or his arms. Mz Jensen was quite content with the life she led. Her dear husband, Buddy, passed on close to fifteen years prior leaving a prosperous ranch in her name. She ran that ranch just as well as any man could. She had a whole fleet of ranch hands that did all the tough work and she got to enjoy the stability of taking care of one self.

Now I know that I mentioned the Cullen brothers earlier. And like I said then, you didn't mess with them. You didn't talk to them and you sure as heck didn't make company with them. There's four of them out there in Cullen Gulch. The oldest and meanest being Emmett, he was the leader of their gang. I never saw much of Emmett growing up, but when I did I always had the good sense to avert my eyes. He was a tall man, nearly six and a half feet. His broad shoulders and thick build made him very intimidating. He had beady black eyes that sat a little to close and deep in his head, it made him look like he was constantly scowling at anything and everything. It's said even with his handkerchief covering his mouth and nose during a stick up you can still tell that it's him by his eyes.

Well at least that's what the few survivors of his robberies have said, not to many of those to account for though. Survivors that is, not robberies. I don't have enough breath in my body to tell you all of those.

Next in line is James. Emmett may be down right mean and ornery but James in the scariest one. He had long blonde hair that he always kept slicked back in a pony tail like some injun. His eyes were the color of the coldest blue you have ever saw and it's been said that he not only enjoys murdering, that he relishes in it more then the stealing. Even small children gave the good sense to steer clear of him, I once saw a child no bigger then two, run in the other direction when he saw James coming his way on the street. He wasn't as tall as Emmett but had a slighter build and his movements were agile, almost cat like. Making him impossibly more terrifying.

After James, would be Jasper. Jasper was only three years older then me and probably the most quiet of the bunch. Quiet but always there. Half the time you wouldn't notice him leaned up against the wall of a store until a floor board would creak under his foot. But just because he was quiet doesn't mean he wasn't intimidating in his own right. His dirty blonde hair always flopped over into his eyes, masking them from sight. But that didn't mean he didn't see you, I have a feeling that Jasper saw everything. He watched everything, you could almost feel him making notes in his head of what he saw and how it would work in his favor.

Now the youngest of the bunch was Edward. He was also the one that you hardly ever heard anything about. He wasn't as talked about as the others, but he was still a Cullen and that was enough for the good people of Forks to steer clear of him. He is only two years older then me, I remember seeing him in grammar school before his pa died. All the boys went to school when old man Cullen ran the roost. He kept to himself for the most part, I barely remember him out side of his red hair and shy smile. Now the only time I see him is if he is coming or going out of the Hayseed Saloon when I am in town for supplies. Even then, you never really see them. You keep your eyes down, it's better to not make eye contact with any of the Cullen's, if you do you're only asking for trouble.

So like I said I had no problem following the four unwritten rules of Forks. But everything changed the summer of my sixteenth year. That summer I broke two of those rules.

Okay here's the deal! I will be updating weekly. Every Wednesday! I have some chapters stored up, so this should work! Go ahead and review now, you know you want to...okay I want you to...I need some love!