Hello! Thanks for checking out my new story. It's has some similarities with my other story (J Whitlock is Dead), but re-imagined since I lost momentum for JWiD. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
"Jasper!" Carlisle yells my name from the doorway of my bedroom. My eyes pop open, and I push my torso up with my arms, although they shake and I don't fully trust them to hold me up. I can feel the sweat matting my hair on the back of my neck. My chest rises up and down with my rapid breath. "Are you okay?"
I nod at the tall silhouette of my current foster father. I know he can't see too much detail on my face, but the moonlight coming in from my window is enough to let him see me nod. He doesn't see the angry glare I'm giving him, though.
"You were screaming again."
I shrug and lay back down, but keep my eyes locked on him. I still haven't pinned him down yet. He's such a complex person, and very hard to read.
"Goodnight, Jazz." He sighs before closing my door.
I drop the tough act once I hear the latch on the doorknob click. I run my hands over my sweaty face and mumble to myself.
"I can keep myself safe. I can keep myself safe."
As much as I hate to admit it, repeating that to myself does help. Mr. Bunkson, my therapist, call them affirmations or something.
I can breath easier once I hear Carlisle travel down the creaky steps to the main floor of the house. Rosalie's room is on the second story with mine and Carlisle's kids. Rosie swears that we're both safe here, but I don't agree. There has to be something wrong with this family.
"Breakfast is ready!" Esme yells up the steps.
I slump out of bed and shuffle my feet towards the dresser. The thick beige carpet is so soft under my bare feet. As I dig for a tee-shirt and jeans, I curl my toes into the carpet. After I change, I drop my pajamas into the hamper, make my bed and head downstairs.
My twin sister, Rosalie, is already at the big oak table. She's still in an old pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee-shirt that she wore to bed. Her mess of blonde hair is in a sloppy bun at the top of her head. I slide into the chair next to her. She smiles at me, but then turns her attention back to Emmett.
Emmett is seated across from her and smiles as he chews his omelet. He's wearing only a pair of basketball shorts, showing off his defined muscles. Rosalie and Emmett have been ogling each other ever since we came here.
"Hey, brother." Emmett greats me. I give him a little nod. If I don't acknowledge him, he won't stop talking to me until I do.
"You know he won't talk to you." Edward mumbles.
Edward is a lot like Carlisle. They have they same eyes, the same nose, the same strange, complex personality. I'm pretty sure he's biologically Carlisle and Esme's son. He rests his head on his hand and struggles to keep his eyes open.
"Don't start, Edward Mason," Esme scolds him. She smiles at me as she sets a plate with an omelet on it in front of me. "Did you sleep well, honey?"
I nod again.
"Where's the old man?" Emmett asks.
"He got called in last night."
"That sucks." Emmett responds, taking another huge bite.
I watch Esme. She talks about Carlisle getting called into the hospital he works at as if it's no big deal, but it is. After getting called in, he comes back home tired and cranky. It hasn't caused him to do anything more than collapse into bed for hours on end yet, but I'm sure it's coming. He insists on always checking on me when he hears me at night, and that cuts into his sleep too. Rosalie and I have only been here for two weeks, but it's already obvious that the Cullen's aren't who they say they are. No one is.
I keep quiet and as I eat, I scan the kitchen. These folks are good at keeping the truth under cover. They even have Rosalie fooled. But not me. Oh no. They can't trick me. I know there's something wrong here. And I'll keep an eye out until I find just what it is.
Please review and tell me what you think! The second chapter should be up within a few days.
