It's a strange thing. To breathe, but never really live. To think, but never do it individually. To have a heart, yet never show it's there… Being a vampire hunter does that to you.

My name is Isabella Swan. Bella for short. And I've been born and raised to believe all vampires are created evil. They have no thoughts, besides killing. Their hearts resist to beating and yet they have the privilege to mate. They even breathe if they so choose, yet they don't have to!

I sat up in my bunk that I shared with my best friend, Angela Webber, and glared around the barrack at the four other girls we shared the room with. I rubbed my face with my hands, pushed my long braid behind my back and glared at my alarm clock that read 9 P.M.

I groaned before flopping back onto my hard- as- a- rock pillow, and rolled on to my side to look at a picture I had of my mother and father taped crudely, yet precisely in the middle of my wall, that my bunk leaned against.

I dreamt of my mother again tonight… She's dead. Or rather dead to my people and me.

She chose vampirism over me and ran off, leaving me with my hard ass father who ran this joint, alongside his best friend, Billy Black. I blame her for everything, that's happened to me, even if it has nothing to do with her.

I blamed her for having to fight for my life almost every night. Wearing nothing, but some fucked up hooker outfit that makes my toned, slimmed body look somewhat appealing. Not to mention, gives those beast easier access to bite me and cause me less maneuvering movement to fight them because it's too damn tight.

I blamed her for all the fake kisses I gave to those cold blooded monsters, right before I took my lighter to their hair and watched them burn before my eyes.

I blamed her for when Jacob, my best friend in the whole world, transformed into a werewolf, along with most of the boys in our base.

I blamed her for every imprint made in that base that caused less girls to be in the field, leaving me short handed and more likely in danger.

I blamed her for every rule we got here on base, that are supposedly there to keep us safe, yet I seem to be in danger all the time.

The god awful alarm started blaring for all recruits to get their asses up. I watched all the girls in my cabin jump from their beds, shove their feet in their combat boots, throw on their jackets and grab their backpacks. Angela yanked off my blanket and growled at me to get up. I smirked before throwing all my stuff on in less time than any of them did and marched out of the room, with all the other girls trailing behind me.

I blamed my mother for a lot of things

I blamed my mother for that god awful alarm that called us to duty.

I blamed her for having to get up at 11 o' clock every day, to vampire hunt.

I blamed her for becoming this kick ass soldier since the day I turned thirteen.

And the most important thing, I blamed her for enjoying every single second of it.