The Ordinary Days.

Prologue.

My name is Rosalie Hale, and I got pregnant at fifteen. I miscarried at sixteen, and at seventeen I was sent to live with my Aunt Esme and Uncle Carlisle in Forks, Washington. Being there, I had the chance to start over and move on after losing my baby the year before. It was hard after losing her, and I broke down completely. My mother kept urging me to move on, and leave the memory of my baby in the past, but I couldn't. She was making it sound way too easy, but for me, it went against my very self.

You would think that a girl's mother would understand the bond between mother and baby that forms during pregnancy, but my mother didn't seem to take that into account. My father did though, and it surprised me deeply. Not that my father didn't love me or anything like that, but he was a workaholic. When he was around for me and my brothers, he was the most attentive father that any kid could ask for.

When I first told my parents that I was pregnant, my father gathered me into his arms and held me. My mother thought it was necessary to shout and throw anything that wasn't nailed down or that cost over two thousand dollars. When I was still catatonic after my miscarriage, her words would play through my mind on a loop. I couldn't escape them. A few months after it happened, my father arranged for me to see a therapist that specialized with woman who suffered like I had, and that helped a lot. I was able to talk about how I felt, my hopes, my fears, my feelings of inadequacy, and my insecurities that all seemed to revolve around my relationship with my mother and the loss of my baby. I wanted to get better, and I wanted to move on, but not forget, so my therapist and I developed a plan.

Now, I'm sitting in my bedroom at my aunt and uncle's place in Forks, looking out the window, only to see the most handsome man I've ever seen, at least in my eyes he was the most handsome man. His name is Emmett McCarty. I met him on my first day here, and I felt a jolt of electricity course through my veins. His southern accent warmed my heart and I could already start to feel the broken pieces mend themselves together. Something inside me was drawn to him, and I was determined to know him better. My cousin, Edward, and Emmett were best friends, so that made the introduction process easier.

I had a feeling the next year was going to be the best one yet.