AN: I feel bad that I haven't written. I am sooooooo busy. I have a job now, school, the school musical, church, and a whole bunch more. Plus I have writer's block on my other stories. I start to write, and then I can't continue. I even tried working on Danielle's Ever After and failed. I apologize. Can you ever forgive me? All I've been able to do is read your reviews, eread a bit of other people's stories, and Beta for Moonless_Nite. I hope you enjoy this story, and I hope I can continue it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, and neither does Bella. Unless Stephenie Meyer really doesn't exist. If you're confused, read on.
Bella POV
I penned, well, rather typed, the last few words of the book entitled Breaking Dawn. I turned at vampire speed to see Alice behind me.
"Documenting your life was smart, Bella," she said, "All finished?"
"Yes," I replied, closing Microsoft Word, and my laptop. "Edward thinks so, too. Do you think you can get this published, but just as copies for me, not the whole world?" I asked with a smile. Alice rolled her eyes and nodded.
1 Year Later
I was walking through Borders with Edward when all of a sudden I saw a kiosk with four books entitled the "Twilight Saga".
Edward heard my sudden intake of breath and whispered,
"What is it?"
I couldn't speak. I merely pointed.
"So?" he asked, confused, "People write books about vampires all the time. There's nothing to worry about." He smiled at me encouragingly. But, when I didn't return it, the smile started to slip away "Right, Bella? Bella?" he asked, worried now.
I walked over to the kiosk, pulling him with me, and picked up the book. I turned to the back of the book and looked at the picture of the author, 'Stephenie Meyer'.
"Notice anything similar between her and me, Edward?" I asked. He looked closely and gasped.
"It was Alice messing around with makeup and wigs," I began to explain at hyper speed, "She bet she could make me look like a human woman in her forties. I bet she couldn't."
"Never bet against Alice," he murmured, but let me continue.
"So, she did, and took pictures to prove it. Remember those books I told you I wrote documenting our relationship?" I asked. He nodded.
"I asked Alice to publish them for me, and only me. I guess she used the pictures and the pseudonym of 'Stephenie Meyer' so it wouldn't sound like an autobiography. Either she or the company messed up. Either way, this ends badly." A soft growl, deep in my throat, escaped me. We looked around, but no one seemed to notice.
"Let's get home and confront her," he suggested. I nodded, and we headed towards the parking lot.
AN: Do you like it? Huh, huh, huh?Review and tell me. Or how much you hate me for not writing. Or my mistakes in this story. Or ideas. Whatever! Reviews make my day. :-)