Dear, The Volturi,

I understand that you are probably sat on your thrones staring at this letter with a completely confused expression on your face/faces. I don't blame you, you just got a random, out of the blue letter from a stranger. A human stranger at that. It's been three months since He left, leaving me in the cold, icy wind that carried his final disastrous words to me.

The Relationship

When, let's call him Lucas, and I first met, I'd hardly say it was love at first sight. The chances of a new girl catching the eye of the most gorgeous guy in school is almost impossible; unless he was paying attention to the fact I'm from Phoenix, but would make a polar bear look tanned golden-brown. My friend Jessica Stanley (I don't mind her being eaten alive) also helped identify how impossible it would be for Lucas to love me, with him having applications from every single girl in school yet refusing all of them. And trust me, if you saw the girls at my school compared to me, you probably would've given up too.

My chances increased drastically, or so I presumed, when I was placed next to him in Biology. The way Lucas reacted to me was unexpected to say the least, and caused me to search recklessly for a reason for his obscure behavior. My search was inconclusive. It was as if I was carrying the Black Death and he'd been forced to suffer several minutes in a confined space with me. I became much more frustrated and concerned when Lucas was absent for the next few days, with the rest of his family shooting daggers in my direction every time we crossed paths. Lucas returned to Biology much more controlled and less tense a few days later. From then on, the conversation seemed to flow between us, which surprised practically everyone. My friend Mike Newton was specifically concerned, with his crush on me being scared by the bond Lucas and I seemed to share.

I discovered Lucas's family secret independently, paying attention to the small details that very few people would notice (even the girls that stare or gawk at him everyday in the corridors). I know that you knowing that I know what you are is risky for Lucas, which is why I've changed nearly everyone's name. If Lucas is right and you are vampire royalty, I don't want to take my chances. Which is also why I'm posting this rather than emailing it-I know you can probably track emails.

First was the eye colour change, which I detected stood beside our lockers holding a golden onion we'd won from a Biology practical that we'd both excelled in.

Second was the strength. The high school car park became very slippery thanks to the ice and when making my way over to my 1953 Chevy Pickup truck, another students car swerved into me. I know what your thinking: how did a weak human survive such a fatal accident? And trust me, that's what everyone was thinking, because one minute he was there, then the next he was gone, in his place was a giant dent in the hectic student's newish looking car. I escaped with little damage to my head, which Lucas used as an excuse for me seeing him dent the car with just the tips of his fingers, before escaping without even a gust of wind. (I guess that one was speed to).

Third and finally was the icy, dead skin. Sure, Lucas was pale, but so am I, I couldn't judge or use that as an excuse to call him supernatural. I'd had a bad experience with a couple of low-lives in a gang wanting to break the human law, whilst searching for a book on 'the cold ones', in a bookshop in a shopping villiage a couple of miles outside of my town. Thankfully, Lucas showed up and saved me. When we both reached for the radio, I felt it. Not some romantic electric shock or our souls joining as one like you see in the movies. But the temperature of his skin. Even in such a thermal car, he was a unmeltable ice-cube.

It was unexpected when Lucas demanded I follow him into the depths of the forest beside our school, however, I could almost understand, believing his family liked to adventure and camp in the mountains when our town got the slightest inch of sunlight. During our journey guilt was resting in my stomach that my father, um... Chris, might find out I skipped class and turn from father mode to cop mode, which is something I don't want to experience at all.

Once we'd reached the peak of the first hill, I rested my hand on my knee as my breathing became jagged and broken. I was drowning my lungs in insane amounts of oxygen, whilst trying to focus on what Lucas was rambling on about. That's when he dropped the bomb that he was a vampire. A real vampire! The pages of Bram Stoker's Dracula came alive in my head, as if I'd absorbed them and brought them to life. A few weeks before whilst strolling along a windy beach, an old friend, Jacob Black, told me a couple of old folk stories about 'the cold ones', so Lucas revealing his true self, made sense, especially since Jacob mentioned 'the cold ones' leaving town, then returning, which Lucas's family did.

The next step, after the gory girlfriend and boyfriend details that I don't want to bore you with, was meeting his family. His vampire family. Me, an apparently delicious smelling human, in a room with his vampire family. Woop. Even though Lucas had explained repeatedly that they lived differently, following a strict 'vegetarian' diet of animal (like a fluffy bunny for example) blood, I still had my doubts. Who can blame me?

After spending a lovely evening with Lucas's family, I came to the conclusion that if anything was going to kill me, it would be his risky, immortal, un-human-passenger-friendly driving.

Our relationship was as perfect as most inspire to be. Until my birthday. Lucas's sister, ... Zoey, arranged a birthday party for me, with just their family, which I was both excited and nervous about. Lucas's entire family, except his other sister, had accepted me with open arms, but that doesn't change their true nature and the intentions they have buried within them when a human is around. Lucas's brother, let's call him Casper, is a little weaker when it comes to resisting human blood, so when I accidentally cut my finger on the wrapping paper which hid a gift, his eyes span into the colour of the blood he craves, his fangs sharpened into knives and he plunged forward into Lucas's and their father's arms.

And that's why he left me. 'To protect me', he said. How can he protect me when he's maybe halfway across the world chasing foxes? To say I haven't done much in the months since his departure is an understatement. I've studied and attended school, as well as gazing absently out of my window for an unseen reason.

One night whilst lying on my bed and re-living every conversation we've ever had, I stumbled across our conversation about you, The Volturi, after I noticed a painting of you in Lucas's father's office. What upset me the most was how Lucas described your opinion on humans and the way you live. Every cloud has a silver lining, so as I try to move on with my life without Lucas, I'm going to write to you, explaining everything. Maybe you'll learn that humans are just like you, despite some physical and diet specifications. Maybe you'll continue to live the same lifestyle despite my story. Or maybe you'll just burn this letter. I know you can't reply because I've given you a fake address (Diagon Alley is the fictional work of J.K Rowling, if you didn't know that then you need to get out more).

Love from,

Marie Swan x

P.S Do as you please with these letters, because they'll be your equivalent to the free newspaper some people get delivered to their door every so often.

P.P.S Have you ever met Bram Stoker? Was he a vampire? Did Dracula actually exist? (I know you can't reply but you can tell me if we ever meet, for a happy reason I hope that doesn't involve death-the reason I presume most people meet you).

P.P.P.S I have changed most of the names in my letter for precaution. I don't doubt that you have records on all of the clans and spies everywhere that could easily hunt vampires down. I know that this letter contains information that a clan broke the 'law' and the last thing I want is to cause them to loose limbs or even worse, die.