Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, nor do I own this plot. It belongs to the wonderful ImagineXD. I just agreed to write it.
A/N: I know...I'm starting another story without finishing my other two, shame on me. BUTTTT, I saw this plot idea in ImagineXD's profile, and it wouldn't leave me alone. I hope you like it. Remember, reviews are amazing, so drop one after you read.
Summary: This is a Jasper and Alice story. There is a major twist, though. Edward, Bella, Rosalie, Emmett, Esme, Carlisle, and Jasper all move to Forks. Alice is basically in Bell's position of Twilight.
Prologue:
"So dad, what kind of ice cream are you going to get," I asked, practically bouncing in my seat with excitement as I leaned forward in the car's beige, leather seat, stretching the seatbelt to its full length. I placed my elbows on the armrest between the front seats and placed my chin delicately in my hands, batting my eyelashes as I looked from my mom and dad, waiting for an answer.
"I'm not sure, pumpkin. Why don't you tell me?" His tone sounded detached and laced with the tiniest bit of mockery. I pouted my bottom lip, disappointed with my father's answer as we raced along a painfully straight stretch of dark suburban road towards the familiar ice cream stand that we visited at least twice a week, every week. Tonight though was a special occasion. It was my thirteenth birthday. I smiled at this particular thought of finally being a teenager. I almost squealed and clapped my hands together enthusiastically, a byproduct of my apparent giddiness.
The light of a car's headlights as it passed us in the opposite direction, tugging at my eyes to admire the scenery outside the window. It was at the beautiful summer night, not a single cloud littered the sky as we rolled along the evenly paved road. A full moon lit up the onyx heavens as it cast its slivery rays over the earth, creating unique shadows in the labyrinth of houses that flashed by our car's windows and eliminating the need of our headlights with its sheer intensity. The car windows had been rolled down and the warm summer air filtered throughout the car, throwing wisps of my long raven tendrils into thick knots, and leaving behind the sweet aroma of dew and honeysuckle. I breathed in deeply, letting the soothing scent rush over me, calming my suddenly thrashing nerves before I answered my father's heated question.
"I can't." I stated simply, shrugging my shoulders and hoping to drop this taboo subject.
"Why not? You see everything else. You saw our neighbor's dog get hit by that car the night before it happened. You even saw your grandmother's death three weeks before it actually occurred. Why can't you see something as simple as an ice cream flavor?!" My father was yelling by the end of his query as he bitterly fastened both of his shaking hands tightly on the leather steering wheel of his flashy, beloved Lexus. His knuckles turned white, incandescent in the darkness. The car turned deathly silent as my mother reached over and caressed his face tenderly, trying in vain to calm him down. My father's chest heaved as he desperately leaned into my mother's touch.
I felt a mixture of surprise and hurt at his sudden outburst. It took me a moment to make sense of my ambivalent thoughts and to form a reply.
"Do you think I enjoy seeing the deaths of the people I love? Do you think I enjoy seeing countless, brutal murders of strangers in my dreams? Can you even imagine living in a state of constant déjà vu?" A sharp intake of breath came from my mother's seat. I ignored her and continued. "I feel like a Peeping
Tom every time I close my eyes, and I already told you, I can't control this gift…this curse, whatever it is. These visions only come at night when I'm asleep, and sometimes they don't even come at all," I snapped defensively, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back into the soft leather.
My father growled in aggravation. "Maybe you should learn to control it then."
I chuckled without humor. "You don't think I've tried?" I whispered desperately and half amused, cupping my tense neck with my right hand.
My mother shot a glance at my father, her face reflected in the moonlight that seeped through the windows. It was shiny and wet. I realized she was crying.
"Mom, what's wrong? Are you okay?" I placed a small, comforting hand gently on her arm. Hastily, she recoiled it to the side of her body, holding it in tightly, like she had been burned by my touch.
My brow furrowed with confusion as butterflies started to flap chaotically in my lower gut, and I studied my parent's strange behavior with my cobalt eyes, trying to make sense of it. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, dear. We are going to get ice cream for your birthday," My mother stated, as if she was trying to convince me. Her eyes occasionally darted to my father's hard, emotionless face as we pressed closer to our destination. I stayed silent for the rest of the car ride, trying to sort out why my parents were acting so strangely. Bizarre behavior or not, I decided I would not let my parents ruin my birthday. It's not every day that someone turns thirteen. Smiling, I turned in my seat to gaze out the window, counting and naming the sparkling stars as the night sky grew darker. After a few moments I stopped, bringing my line of sight back down. It took me a moment to realize that I didn't recognize any of the surroundings that were flying past the car. A tight sensation flared in my stomach, and I fought the sudden tightness in my chest.
Suddenly, the car came to a screeching halt and I flew forward in my seat, stopped only by the cloth seatbelt strapped tightly across my chest. I looked around, confused and the smile was wiped from my face. My father unbuckled his seat belt vehemently and stepped out into the humid, thick summer air as quickly as his aged body would allow.
"Where are we?" I questioned my mother as I quickly unfastened my own restraint and scooted to the edge of my seat, sticking my head through the space between the front seats to look at my mother.
"Honey, we are sorry about this…," She started, her voice caked with emotion. My bemused gaze met her guilty one and I immediately understood that we would not be getting ice cream.
My mother sobbed as she swiftly withdrew her seatbelt and stepped, shaking from head to toe, out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her so hard the windows quivered in their panes. The sound of the trunk opening and closing took me by surprise. I kept shaking my head in bewilderment as I turned
to scan my surroundings through the dirt and water stained glass. My eyes locked on a tall, scarlet brick building. The few windows that clung to walls all had navy curtains that were drawn close together; rustling slightly from what I assumed was the air conditioning. The double glass door stood ajar, letting the subtle summer breeze cool down the posh reception area. An old woman with curly, grey hair and round spectacles sitting on the bridge of her nose stood filing her nails at a glossy, mahogany front desk. Children's screams perforated the still night air as I caught a glimpse of a child running in circles around the old lady. The woman threw back her head and laughed before pushing them gently from the room and up the dark steps behind her. In the miniscule front lawn a large stone sign announced to the world
what this building was. I quickly ran my eyes along the words and my breath hitched in my raw throat.
Orphanage Dumort.
I should have seen this coming, I should have seen this coming, I should have seen this coming…
The little "Alice" chanted in my head, like a broken record as the door closest to me was flung open violently, making the whole car tremble. All other rational and coherent thoughts had been banished to a dark corner in the back my mind as my mother and father pulled me roughly out of my comfortable
seat by my tiny wrists. My feet hit the solid, concrete sidewalk with a dull thud, reverberating into the silent, still night. Burning tears pricked at the corner of my eyes as my parents started to drag me towards the ominous building.
This is my fault. The new thought pierced through the jumbled mess of my mind, making my heart stop. I drove my parents away, frightening them with the knowledge of my sight. And now I was paying severely for sharing my secret. Memories I shared with my parents flashed through my dazed mind. Birthday parties, family gatherings, Christmases, Thanksgivings. I would never experience these again, not in the way I used to. I whimpered involuntarily, hoping it would be enough to catch my parent's attention. I needed to talk to them, to make things right, to make them understand, before it was too late. My father glanced back and stopped moving forward.
"Mom…Dad…," I croaked. "What are we doing here?" I didn't want to hear the answer, the conformation of my fears.
My mother's entire being trembled with aggressive sobs. She looked away from me as she wiped at her tear stained face and readjusted a black duffle bag in her had that I hadn't noticed before.
My father looked pained as he spoke. "Alice, this is for the best." He sounded so sure of himself; I almost started to believe it was true.
My entire world and heart shattered into a million pieces at the same time, landing in a neat little pile at my feet and blown away by the light summer wind before I could reach down and pick them up. The butterflies in my stomach came to a complete standstill, tumbling lifeless to the pit of my stomach. I
bit back the urge to vomit and when I didn't respond, my parents started to drag me forward to the
open, waiting doors again
No this is all a bad dream. They can't just abandon me, I thought miserably to myself as I dug my heels into the cement, determined not to go without a fight. I felt my knees starting to buckle under the paralyzing realization that my parents didn't want me anymore. I shook my head violently, struggling
to pry my wrists from my parents' iron grasp.
"No, it's not. The best thing for me would be to stay with you guys," I stammered. Tears started coursing down my face in multiple saltine rivulets.
"I need you…why are you doing this now?" I asked, feeling hopelessness crash down on my shoulders as I tried to stall.
My dad continued to march his way towards the door, his face hard as granite. "Because we weren't meant to handle this…ability you have. Only God should have the power of being able to see the future."
"Are…you…afraid…of me?" I asked, almost screeching. They turned sharply to meet my teary eyes. I gasped when I processed their stony faces and felt my heart breaking all over again. When I saw their
expressions I knew that this decision had been made long ago, and nothing I could say or do would stop them from what they were about to put me through.
"Yes," My father admitted, pulling me the last couple of feet through the glass doors as my mom let out another dry sob. The old lady glanced up from her nails, giving us an encouraging and welcoming smile.
"But mom, dad…" I searched for the right thing to say, something that would make them realize they couldn't live without me. "It's my birthday." Was the pathetic argument I came up with before darkness
enveloped my senses.