Author's note: I want to get something straight; this is not pertained to vampires at all. This is a completely original story that has nothing to do with Stephanie Meyer's phenomenon. This will be a beautiful story if you stay with it, so please read!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Twilight, only the storyline.

Where do I even begin? There were so many roads, so much untold pain, so much laughter, and so much crying. And yet there was faint trace of magic lying in those moments, even the ones were I thought tomorrow would never come and I would never be okay. I was like a bird, never grounded and never settling.

My life was not something spectacular, or tragic. It was just a story, an untold story that was literally screaming to be told, to be noticed. Something reader you must understand is that most people would never know this was coming from my home. You see, I was always okay; I was never the one who brought my drama to school or even really told people I was miserable. There was only one person in my life who understood me for what I was.

She loved me for everything I was, everything I wasn't, and everything I would never be. She was the most amazing person I had ever known, and while she didn't believe it; she was worth every fight, every loss, and every sacrifice I ever gave. She was the sunshine in my dark; my hope when there wasn't any. I don't believe I ever loved more deeply than how I love her still.

Alice, my non-biological sister, came into my life when I was about fourteen. At the time I was going to a small Christian school in Hot Springs, Arkansas. To say I hated there would be an understatement. To make things worse, I was a social outcast. It wasn't like I was a weird nerd or anything. I was just average, at everything. There was nothing exceptional about me at all, just average.

I never made all A's or honor roll, I was academically alright but that was it. My best friend was extremely popular, made amazing grades, great at sports and was constantly making me feel as if I was nothing. While my self-esteem tanked around her, she was my best friend and she was only thing I had aside from my own mother.

And speaking of my mother, talk about dynamite in small packages. Let me clarify something, I am about 5'10 and my mother is barely (that is if she stands on her tip toes) 5'3. Her personality was explosive and I would have done anything for her. She was my real best friend at the time. Weird, I know but we shared everything together, and when I say everything I mean literally everything! When we were together, I remember so much laughter! And yet, when she was angry, I remember only the pain.

When she became angry, which could happen at minute, she was uncontrollable. She was like a ticking bomb just waiting to explode. I remember one night when I was ten, I did something that made her angry and she screamed:

"You know, I think the reason God never gave me any children was because of how much of you I have to deal with!"

I believe the worst part of that night was that I had just prayed to God to let her have at least one child of her one about thirty minutes before she so boldly claimed that to me. You see, she was barren and I was adopted. I remember crying at night over her pain. Then as I a young child to pray for God to heal her she spits at me that I'm the problem. That I'm her problem.

I think that I've always been her problem, her one mistake and while she never said it; she never had to. Actions speak louder than words, and while that is such a cliché line it is one of the most truthful pieces of words I have ever come across.

You see, the issue was that she was my best friend. She was only mom when she was explicitly livid and no time else. I never had a mother figure, just a woman who was just and maybe even more broken than I was. I grew up my whole childhood life believing I would never be good enough for her.

Now I realize it was never 'good enough' I was just never going to be enough period. Ultimately, at the end of the day I could never make the pain go away. I could never fix her. She was never going to be satisfied in life, and therefore I would never be her satisfaction and that's why I was never enough. I couldn't love her like my stepfather is supposed to, or like my father should have. And to be quite frankly, I never measured up as her daughter. But as her best friend, I was everything she could ask for. And for me, in those moments, that was enough.

Her marriage was bad; I never had to ask to see that. My stepfather didn't love her and I knew it. I remember one time when she was talking to ex boyfriend she had in high school, she got really angry with him and decided to go to Monroe, Louisiana to get her revenge. I remember that we went and bought an all new outfit and everything. We were about to go show him everything he could never have. On the way up there, we listened to total boy bashing music like Taylor Swifts "Picture to Burn" and Kelly Clarkson's "Never Again." I remember we laughed so much that weekend, especially when she told her jerk of an ex boyfriend off! I remember being so happy! You see, that was one of 'those' moments.

Anyways, my mother finally convinced my stepfather to adopt these two children that his secretary was related to. Their names were Alice and Edward. Alice was seven and Edward was eight. They both had been through hell and I felt so small then. Alice and I immediately had a connection and instantly became attached to the hip. She was such an amazing kid.

While she completely bewildered me, she did have a mean streak in her. She was extremely vindictive. Once there was a time when she was so angry with Edward that hid all his video games. They were hidden for so long, that she even forgot where she put them. They were found a year later. As I was saying, vindictive.

But she was so full of life, so full of passion, and yet so full of pain. She never really got over her mother. She never liked the idea of actually replacing her so she settled for calling me mom. I was someone she could trust, I wasn't a mother figure therefore I wouldn't be as likely to disappoint her as such. I was never going to randomly walk out and not come back for six weeks as her own mother once did. I was her sister, her protector, her safety net and I was trustworthy. To be honest though, it was really her that saved me. Well, I guess it would be safe to say that we saved each other.

I had other siblings though, a stepbrother, Emmitt; stepsister Bella, half brother, Jasper and of course Edward. Now Edward was another situation all together. He had Cerebral Palsy because his mother was on drugs and alcohol while she was pregnant. Part of his brain was, still is missing. He was practically blind as well, had mental seizures that more like hallucinations and it was because of his mother.

He was paying for the mistakes his mother made, and yet I still wonder if she knows and if she does would she even care. I don't know. I do believe she did love her children, she didn't know how to love them. Edward displayed a great hate for his mother and father figure while Alice was much more compassionate, which is another admirable trait about her.

To Alice, that was still her mother mistakes and all. Sometimes I wish I could live like that, but Alice and I very different people. While I never would admit it to her, I sometimes wished I could be more like her. Unknown to her, she taught me a little something about life.

Love, and to not be afraid of it.

Of course, it seemed as if I was the only one who seemed to see that about her. You see, I'm driving in the car heading back to Arkansas from Texas. How I got here started a while back. My story was just really just starting to begin for me, even though I thought my life was over. Just a few months prior, I felt as if was on top of the world, then life decided to throw me a loop and I wasn't ready.

I was disowned by stepfather.

I made a choice to not be bought over, to not be manipulated, to finally say no and it cost me a big price. At first my mother was extremely angry, and swore to him the moment I walked out to live with my dad; was the day she was walking out as well. You know what, I really believed her. I really believed I was worth her fighting over and I really believed she would choose what was right over what was easy.

I was wrong.

Quickly after I moved out, she made her choice to stay and that I was the one who was in the wrong. She chose to stay because staying was easier than fighting for kid. Staying was easier than defying him. So she did, and that was the end of that. And suddenly I had to face the truth that I had been so long denying. I would give anything for her, and yet I wish I could say the same about her.

Anyways, this is where my story is beginning. Two weeks ago, I got a phone call from her basically saying that Alice was being kicked out. Needless to say, I decided to go down there to straighten things out. I'll never forget that conversation.

The family was all hanging out at Leah's house. Bella, Emmitt and Jasper and I along with my stepmother Renee and my dad Charlie were just visiting Renee's sister, Leah, and her family of four kids. It was like any other day, a day filled with loudness, laughter and music. We were all sitting down eating Alfredo with angel hair pasta that could give us all heart attacks potentially and were loving every minute and every bite of it! We were all laughing and Bella was talking about her latest tattoo and how her newlywed husband needs a serious tan. It was a good day, and then my phone went off. I saw it was my mother and was unsure whether to answer it or not. We hadn't spoken a word to each other for nearly eight months since she had expressed to me how she was choosing my stepfather over me. But I decided that it might be important and reluctantly excused myself from the table and answered it.

"Hello?" I said pensively.

"Hey." She said gruffly.

I could tell she was crying, but by the sound of her voice she sounded more angry than hurt.

"What's going?" I answer quickly trying to get to the point of the conversation.

She was quiet and I could hear her breathing in the background. The silence was irritating me, and yet there was a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. I knew whatever it was, it was bad.

"Are you there?" I finally say breaking the uncanny silence.

"Yeah, sorry." She says quickly. "Look, I'm just going to tell you straight. You're sister's pregnant." She states plainly.

This time it was I that was speechless. I mean what are you supposed to say after something like that. I took a big breath and closed my eyes.

"Mom, how is that even possible? I mean she's only twelve." I say frustratingly.

I'm not sure which was more disturbing, the fact that we were talking about this so civilized or that my twelve year old sister is pregnant.

"Well, apparently she decided to spread her legs." She said curtly.

I immediately felt the anger rise up inside of me. It was enough having to deal with this in the first place; the last thing needed was her unnecessary comments.

"Don't Mother." I say tightly. "You know she was sexually messed with when she was little. She's only twelve; you should be more concerned about her wellbeing, not making rude comments." I say coldly.

"Well excuse me for finding out that apparently my twelve year old daughter happens to be a slut." She says icily.

"She was raped as a five year old for god's sake mother!" I yell at her, taking our conversation outside.

"Don't you think I know that!" She yells back at me. "The point is that she can't stay here." She states bluntly.

It was if the wind had been knocked out of me, and I was sure I heard her incorrectly.

"I'm sorry but I know didn't just hear that she couldn't stay there anymore." I spit through my teeth.

"Yes, that's exactly right! Steve is an attorney! We are a Christian family, how would it look if everyone knew our daughter was out sleeping around." She yells again.

"OH MY GOD! Could you just for this ONE second mother actually think of someone else other than yourself! Your TWELVE year old daughter is pregnant!" I scream into the phone.

"We're sending her back to DHS and that's final!" She yells even louder.

All there is is the silence taking over. And for some reason I can't seem to get a single word to form from my lips. I want to scream all kind of obscenities, but I can't even do that. Shock, that's the right word. I am in total and complete shock. How could she? How could they? She's only a child! The starts to become thin and I can't breathe anymore. All I can process in my mind is that I have to do something.

I have to do something!

"Just…uh..Just um" I stutter trying to find the words. "Look, just give me two weeks, okay?" I finally manage.

"To do what Rosalie? What are you going to possibly do?" She asks curtly.

"To do hell lot more than you that's for sure!" I say coldly.

The nausea sweeps over my body and I hold my phone out while I vomit all over the ground. My mind is spinning and I have no idea what I'm going to do. All I know is that I have to do something.

"Hand the phone over to Alice." I demand.

"Excuse –"

"Mother, cut the CRAP okay! Just hand the damn phone over to Alice!" I scream.

All I hear is shuffling of feet then a faint here.

"Hello" says a dead voice.

My heart sinks in my chest at my sister's voice. It sounds as if she was dead, completely devoid of all emotion and it makes me angry. It makes me angry because that's only supposed to be me, only I'm supposed to be emotionally dead not her; never her.

"Alice, listen to me!" I say desperately. "You listen to me, I'm coming up there as soon as I can okay? We're going to get through this okay?" I say now partly crying. "Okay, so just be strong alright?" I say and can hear her sobbing in the background.

"Okay, I promise." Is all she says.

"Look, I have to go Rosalie. I'll talk to you later." My mother responds irritatedly.

"Oh you most certainly will." I spit out venomously then hit the end button.

I fall to ground bring my hands to my head and scream the loudest I can scream. Scream out in my utter dismay and loathing. I scream out like there is no tomorrow.

But here I am in my red Explorer on an early Thursday morning, driving on I30 blaring Switchfoot in my speakers. Maybe I'll drown my thoughts and for once get a minute of peace. A minute where I don't have to think. I minute where I can just drive.

About two hours later, I pull up to the small private school building on the outskirts of Hot Springs, Arkansas; to that same school that changed my life, that made me believe I could be something of worth to this world. That same school that could very well save her life she was about to have to leave. All because my mother, her parents, just woke up one morning and decided that they didn't want to parent anymore. They decided that she was just too difficult, too embarrassing, too much of a risk to their perfect lie.

I'm nineteen years old and have no idea what to do.

So this is where my story begins.

This is where our story begins.

So please review and tell me what you think so far.