I stared silently at the row of trees in front of me. They were oak, I think, or maybe redwood. It didn't matter, I suppose, but I wanted to absorb the tranquility around me, no matter how fleeting it was. I could hear birds singing their sweet songs in the distance, almost beckoning me. But I ignored them. I had to. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of pine and flowers, and started moving. It wasn't a spring, there was no way I had the strength for that, but I sure as hell wasn't taking my time either. I couldn't afford time anymore.
I know only a few things for certain.
Number one, I am sick of seeing nothing but fucking trees. I enjoy admiring their beauty, yes, but I am tired of seeing them. Everywhere I go; it's always trees, trees, trees. I'm beginning to wonder why there are so many goddamn trees in the first place. I hate it when they're all bunched together too and it's practically impossible not to trip over a damn root or run into one. I cannot for the life of me name the number of times that's happened.
Number two, I'm in Washington. I don't know where exactly, since I haven't seen a map in Lord knows how long. I think I'm in some shitty town called Forks. I wouldn't know. Then again, I guess that doesn't matter either, does it?
And number three, I, Isabella Marie Swan—though I prefer Bella since Isabella makes me feel…old—am a dead woman. I was the moment I met them four months ago. Wow. Four months. Four fucking months of my life gone with the wind. It's sad, really. There was no birthday party. There wasn't much of anything aside from me running for my life and the sick, twisted torture that my pursuers enjoyed inflicting on me.
I laughed to myself as I thought back to that night when my life became Hell itself. When the abnormally klutzy Bella Swan became a game, a fucking toy, for a race of beings no sane human would have ever thought existed. Vampires. They were real, alright, and I knew it. It was insane and mind-boggling, but it was true. Too bad no one I tried to tell ever believed me. Then again, they usually ended up dead anyways.
If I hadn't been stupid and easily influenced, maybe I could have avoided it. Considering my luck, though, it would've happened one way or the other. Maybe God hates me. That's what I tried to tell myself at first. Then I changed my mind. If God hated me, I'd be dead. Besides, I didn't believe in him/her/it having direct influence on us humans. So I just blamed my fucking luck, which stinks, by the way.
I think the worst part is that I remember it all so clearly, as if it happened yesterday…
Four months ago; Phoenix, Arizona
It was hot out. It wasn't too "oh-my-God-I'm-dying" hot, but I was still sweating a bit as I walked across the street. I didn't know where I was going. Anywhere, I guess, but home.
Ha. Home. What a fucking joke that was. I didn't have a home. I didn't know what happened to my birth parents. I had no one in my life that cared for me. No aunt or uncle or grandparents or friends. Nothing. I was alone. I hated it. I loathed it, honestly, but there was nothing I could do about it.
My so called "family" were my foster parents with three other kids. They didn't care much for me. They never did. They thought they would be getting a beautiful, brainy daughter with a future. Nope. They got me. I guess they were okay as far as foster families go. I got food, clothes, a bed to sleep in and schooling. But that was it. There was no love, no attention, no bonding.
I suppose that was one of the reasons why I had decided to run away. I hated my "siblings". Okay, they weren't even close to being siblings. We didn't have the same last names. And we rarely ever slept under the same roof. They were out partying or getting drunk or staying with friends, the stuff I never had.
I didn't have an exact destination. I just wanted to keep moving, hoping I'd find something or someone of interest to me. I didn't figure out until later how bad an idea that was. I had left in the early afternoon around twelve-ish. By now, it was six thirty. The sun had gone down and it was starting to get dark out.
I had wandered down a random street, only to find that the street and the streets around it were deserted. No people, no cars, no open stores. I walked down a block or so before my conscious began to mock me. It called me a fool for leaving and a coward. Me and my stupid inner voices. I started to get ideas about going back to my shitty home to my non-existent family. Looking back, it might have been. But I didn't. I kept walking.
Another hour passed and I was growing incredibly bored. So I finally gave in and decided to head back home. That's when I saw them.
There were two of them, both of them like no one I'd ever seen before. There was a male and female. The male had dark blonde hair in a ponytail, narrow eyes and a youthful face. The female had long, fiery colored curly hair. Both of them were young looking. Both of them had pale skin. And both of them were unnaturally good looking, especially the woman.
I was transfixed by the beautiful woman. She had almost a feral quality to her, the way she looked, dressed and moved, but my body didn't listen to the warning signs pulsing through my brain. It was strange; really, how this was the day that I discovered that I was a lesbian. Great timing, that's for damn sure. Not.
"Hey there, sweet thing," greeted the male. Now, normally when someone says this they are drunk, high, horny or some combination of the three. This person, however, was none of the above, and his voice showcased this fact. It was eerily…soothing.