Hello! I'm new to the Twilight fanfiction fandom, but have been a fan for a while. I've been wanting to write an imprint story for a while, and this idea popped up and wouldn't leave! This chapter is in introduction, introducing the main character, Cherilyn Aria Adams, and telling you vaguely about her past. I hope that you guys are interested, please let me know if you like it! Enjoy:)
-Storm Clouds
In Washington state, under near constant cover of clouds and rain, there is a small town named Forks, with a population of just over three thousand people. That is where I've been exiled to for the summer.
I grew up in New York City, surrounded by lights, noise, and people. I was ignored by most of them, including my own father, but still...I'm used to the noise, and the constant hustle bustle. But now, he's exiled me for three months to a quiet, quaint little town.
"You've changed."
"I don't know you anymore."
"This isn't the daughter I raised."
He said that a lot in the days that followed my confession, especially the day five days after I broke the news, when he told me I would be spending the summer before my senior year in a small tiny town with an aunt I'd never even met before. I wonder if he will ever realize that, while I have changed, he never knew me. He barely raised me.
My father is paid to know everything as a high class doctor that works in so many different fields and saves so many different lives, but when it comes to me he has no idea. He doesn't know anything about me, or what I've been through, no idea what pain I'm holding in, and why being in a quiet place will only hurt me more. He has no idea because he never cared.
"Miss, the plane's going to land soon, could you please put your tray table up."
Aria jumped as the woman touched her shoulder, having not heard the announcement or her approach, thanks to the iPhone earbuds in her ears, music being played at the loudest volume she could stand. She nodded, and quickly shut her journal, pushing it into her backpack, and returning the tray to the upright position. She settled back in her seat, staring idly out the window, watching as the ground came closer and closer, until eventually the large plane, carrying about a hundred people from LAX to Seattle airport, touched down to the tarmac. It took twenty minutes to disembark the plane, and another ten to get her suitcase from baggage claim, before setting off in search of her aunt, earphones still in place.
She spotted her from fifty feet away, just knowing that it was her. She greatly resembled the woman she'd only seen in pictures: her mother.
Aria approached her, reluctantly pulling the earbuds out. "Karen?" She asked, quickly correcting herself, "Uh, Aunt Karen?"
The woman looked up from her Blackberry, and a look passed over her face. "Cherilyn," She said, putting the smart phone into her bag, and awkwardly hugging her. "It's great to see you, I haven't seen you since-" She broke off awkwardly, and Aria knew she had been about to say the funeral, her mother's funeral, which had taken place when Aria was two months old.
"You too," She said awkwardly, "And it's Aria, actually. I go by my middle name."
Karen took one of her bags, and began to lead her outside. "Oh, alright. Sorry." She said. "Jill was so proud of your name, you know..." She said, smiling over at her, "Cherilyn Aria, it means beloved melody."
Aria said nothing, looking straight ahead as they walked into the parking lot. When they finally reached a car, Aria, feeling bad about not responding, asked, "Is it a long ride?"
"About three hours, I'm afraid...Forks is way outside of the city." She explained. "But it's an easy ride. I work at Seattle hospital, I do it nearly every day."
"Why don't you just live in Seattle?" Aria asked, as they put her two bags in the trunk. She'd prefer Seattle, at least it was a city. It was no New York, but it was better than a quiet, tiny town.
"I like the quiet in Forks," Karen said. "I'm no city girl, but the hospital in Forks is nowhere near as good as Seattle, and I have a great job."
"So you're away a lot?" Aria asked, settling into the passenger seat of the car.
"Basically," Karen said apologetically. "I didn't mention that to your father, he seemed convinced you needed watching but...I never really liked him much, to be honest, and I don't think any daughter of Jill's could be that crazy. I have two cars, so you'll always have a way to get yourself around." She smiled.
"It's no problem," Aria shrugged, "I like being alone," She lied. She didn't like it, but she was mostly used to it. "I'm really tired," She said as they hit the highway, "If you don't mind, I'm gunna try to sleep."
"Not at all," Karen said, sounding almost grateful, and so Aria put the earbuds back into her ears, putting the music on, thankful for the distracting noise. She didn't actually sleep, she never really did lately. But she sat there, leaning back in the seat, eyes shut pretending to, trying to focus on the music blasting in her ears, song after song, needing something to think about.
About three hours later, Karen gently shook her, and so she pretended to yawn, stretching, fake waking up. "Welcome to Forks," Karen said, and Aria looked around to see nothing but green trees and grass, with houses scattered around. Aria looked out the window in silence, and eventually they got to a more residential area, with houses more plentiful.
"Aunt Karen," Aria said finally, having been debating on asking or not, "Did my dad tell you why he sent me here?"
"He mentioned it." She nodded. "But I'm not your father, Aria...I was glad that he called me, actually, so you could get away. I remember him being...well, I just thought it would be good to get away," She said, pursed lips, but not wanting to say anything negative about her father.
Aria could imagine what Karen had been about to say, she herself had a list of adjectives that could be used to describe the man she had to call dad.
"Thank you," Aria said softly, thanking her for not reacting like her dad did, and for giving her a way out.
"Home sweet home," Karen said brightly after a period of silence, turning her car into the driveway of a generously sized, pale yellow house. There was an inviting looking porch, with a swing and plants on it, and it looked and already felt homey, as opposed to the too-formal penthouse she and her father lived in. In silence, Aria and Karen got Aria's few bags from the trunk, and headed up the stairs.
"The car you can drive is in the garage, I'll show you later on," Karen explained, unlocking the door, and waving Aria in ahead of her. The house felt warm and lived in, more comforting than the home she was used to. The apartment at home was large and beautiful, but cold and uninviting. The only room she felt comfortable in was hers. Her father worked so much, and got pissy when the house was less than perfect.
"The kitchen, dining room, laundry room, living room, and bathroom are down here," Karen said, giving her a quick tour. "I go to the grocery store every Sunday, that's my day off, and I keep a list on the fridge, so if we run out of anything remember to add it to the list, and if there's anything you'd like me to get, feel free to put it on there too. Help yourself to whatever you want. There's my room, your room and bathroom, and a little den upstairs. You can go anywhere you want in the house, just please not my room unless I'm here and say it's ok."
Overwhelmed, Aria just nodded. It was strange how she felt at ease here, for the first time in months.
"Come on, I'll help you bring your stuff up and show you upstairs." Karen said, and so she grabbed her bag again, and followed her up the stairs, to the end of the hall. "Here's your room," Karen said, pushing a door open. The room smelled of fresh paint, it was a dark purple color with white curtains and bedspreads, purple accent pillows on the queen sized bed. There was a white dresser and vanity, a small flat screen TV sitting upon a bookshelf. "I like decorating so I redid it," Karen said, "I hope you like it."
"It's great," Aria said, touched that she went to this much trouble for her. "Thank you."
Karen smiled. "I'll leave you alone to get settled. I have some work to do, so I'll be in my room." She smiled, heading for the door. "Oh, I almost forgot. Your father said something about taking away your credit card for the summer as punishment, and I want you to be able to get things you need or want...don't go too crazy, but please, use it, ok?" She said, handing a MasterCard over to her, pushing it into her hand. "I know that I haven't been in your life, Aria, but I want to be. I want you to enjoy your time here."
"Thank you," Aria said, unsure of how to say anything else. To her own surprise, she gave her aunt a hug, and she hugged her back, tighter than expected, before bowing out. Aria shut the door behind her, turning to face her room, back against the door. It set in then, where she was. There was no people's voices or car noises out the window, besides the occasional bird chirping, it was silent. She shut her eyes tight against the painful thoughts invading her mind, letting out a whimper, pulling her iPhone out of her bag, quickly pushing the earbuds into place, pushing play. The effect was calming, the loud music pulsing through her ears, giving her something to focus on besides the memories that haunted her mind.
Focusing on the music, she set to work unpacking, and was done in thirty minutes, before she sat cross legged on the bed, journal on her lap.
The small town scares me. In the city, even though it's where all the memories come from, it's easier to forget and focus on something else. I have my few friends that will hang out occasionally, and a bunch of places to sketch, all the noises to focus on. In the city, it's easy to get lost in a crowd or in a moment, because there's so many people, and I'm just one with a very small number of people that even think about me, but even if I'm alone, I'm never alone, there's people everywhere. Here, it's quiet, too quiet. There's nothing else to focus on, almost nobody else around. I'm just alone with my thoughts inside my broken self, and that's the last place I want to be.
