disclaimer: I do not own anything you might recognize from the twilight world. The things you do not recognize are mine tough.
I also like to apologize in advance for my poor grammar, interpunction and vocabulary skills. I am Dutch and I tried to make the best of it.

Chapter 1: The hardest part of life.

Wandering around the planet, going from place to place, meeting new friends to only leave them behind again; Life sometimes throws you into the weirdest situations. My life as it is now is something I never expected it to be. The thirst drives me crazy, all the time, and the people I meet too. I've been looking for that one place where all that doesn't matter anymore. Death, heaven, eternal bliss, It doesn't matter how you call it. I just wanted it to be over. Unfortunately, such a fait was not laid out for me.

Year 1912

A silent cry broke the silence that was created by the minister. People, all dressed in black were gathered around. Some crying, others just staring blank. My father was standing right next to me holding my hand very tightly. He pretended to be brave but I knew better. My dad made me wear some old dress that they had once bought for me. They called it the special occasions dress. I fell in love with the dress the moment I laid my eyes on it. I had never thought that the first time I would be wearing it, would be on the funeral of my mother.
The minister said some last words and signed for my dad to say something. He tried, but nothing came out of his dry throat. Just starts of sentences broken of halfway trough. A sob made it clear that he couldn't continue. He stared down at me with his red eyes filled of tears and quickly looked away as soon as our eyes met. He didn't want me to see that he was weak.
After the funeral we went home immediately. There was a lot to be done around the house and the store and with my mother… gone… we would have to work extra hard. My eyes were, on the contrary of my dad's eyes, still dry and clear. I didn't understand why that was. I loved my mother so much and her death had torn me apart. It hurt so bad when we got the news. I literally felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest of the pain. But I hadn't cried. Not then and not now.

As soon as we got home my dad disappeared to the kitchen. I could hear him grab a bottle and emptying it in one try. When I looked around, the house was a mess. It had always been my mother who kept the house neat. The way it was supposed to. My dad worked and she cleaned and looked after us. Your average family living in a average neighborhood. What would we be now without my mother.
I started to collect all the dirty clothes that were laying around and piled them up. Then I cleared the table of all the little things that were on it and put them back into their right spots. Then I got a broom and swept the floor. Three thick layers of dust were coming of the floor and were shoved outside. Then I took a clean piece of clothing and made it wet and got of the last few layers of dust from the floor.
I was extremely glad that I had something to do. Something to keep my head occupied so that I wouldn't think of my mother. Of course that would be hard seeing as I was doing all of her chores now. But the more busy I got the better I could distract my mind and even started to think ahead. Tomorrow I had to run by the Butcher's and get some meat for dinner. Tomorrow was Friday, the day we ate meat from the Butcher's. It was the only day we could afford it because my dad would get paid that day.
After I was completely done with the floor, every spot as bright and shiny as the next, I went to wash the clothes I had piled up. Luckily my mother had taught me how to it. She started early with educating me, wanting a good life for me. And the way to get a could life was to be an excellent housekeeper and wife. At least, it was so in her opinion.

After I was done doing that a lot of time had passed. I could clearly see the shifted position of the sun. It was more to the west now. My two little sisters were sitting in their bedroom, holding each other, their eyes still wet and red with old tears. I went to sit beside them and put my arms around them. I was the mother figure now, the oldest of us children, and they needed me to console them. My sister were 6 years old and 8 years old. They were too young to lose their mother. Even I was too young to lose a mother with me being ten years old. I could see the despair, pain and sorrow on their faces; what were we going to do now?
Several hours passed by with us just simply holding each other, until we heard loud knocking on the door. I listened for a brief second if my dad was going to answer it, but immediately knew he wouldn't. I pulled the arms of my sisters of me and walked to the door. Curious who it was but at the same time frustrated that people had the nerve to come knocking at our door when we were in mourning, I walked towards the door. My heart jumped a little when I could hear the familiar voices behind the door and the familiar rhythm of breathing of one of them. At that moment I yanked the door open and stared into the eyes of three of the kindest people I had ever met.

First a tall but beautiful woman, with bruin, red-ish hair. She had a warm glow which intensified when she smiled. It was a compassionate smile though. Her eyes were as sad as I had imagined mine would be. This must have been hard for her too. My mother was her best friend. They met when we had moved here, the inner city of Chicago. She was a loving housewife as was my mother and they had bonded over a stupid shopping incident. They had been best friends ever since.
Next to Mrs. Masen stood her husband Mr. Masen. Even though he had one the most beautiful faces – amazing cheekbones and a square set jaw - It showed no emotion at all. He wasn't as close to my family as his wife was, but it was obvious he mourned the death of my mother as much as his wife did. He wore a black suit, a hat and fancy shoes. He looked good, even under the circumstances. Maybe it was because they were wealthier than we were and they could actually afford it.
The third person standing in the doorway was a young boy. He looked at me with worried eyes. He had inherited his mother hair and his father's facial structure. He also had a set jaw and beautiful cheekbones. He also was dressed very neatly. As happy I was to see my mother's best friend, it was nothing compared as how happy I was to see her son, my best friend, Edward Masen.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't attend the Funeral…'' Elizabeth started, her voice choked in her throat.

"It's okay,'' I answered. "'You were away… and you are here now… that's all that matters.''

My voice had started trembling and I wasn't the only one who had noticed. Edward looked at me, his eyes full of sympathy. He slowly moved towards me and put his arms around me. I welcomed his hug and put my arms around him too. I took me a few seconds to realize that my shoulders were shaking and something warm was moistening my special occasions dress. I was crying. For the first time since my mother had died I was crying. I was so lucky with a friend like Edward who could hold me like this and made me feel save enough to let my emotions go haywire. I actually felt really good to cry.

After a few minutes as the sound of my sobs were decreasing, he let go of me and looked me in the eyes.

"Feeling better now?'' His eyes were still concerning.'

"Yes, thank you.'' I said with a very small voice. I wasn't used to people see me cry.

We went inside. I let the way and the Masen family followed. As soon as they caught climbs of my father they told Edward and me to go join my sisters and not to come in to the living room until they told us so.
We stayed in that little room for a long time. Sometimes the silence was broken by one of my sisters, asking what was going on with dad, or just sobbing over our mother. I tried to be strong, for them and for me. I was so thankful that Edward was still there. Even though we were both only ten years old people told us we were just like some old married couple. We were both misfits. We both liked to keep to ourselves and people presumed that to be weird. We were both blessed with understanding parents and each other.

The day Edward and I had met was one of the happiest days of my life. It was at my mother's birthday party. I was only four years old and so was he. He looked at me from across the room, curious I suspected. I walked right up to me and introduced himself. Then I introduced myself and he smiled. ''I know.'' He said. I will never forget that one moment. It made me feel incredibly special and immediately felt connected to him. So after that notorious birthday party Edward and I were best friends.

My eyes told me the night had set in by nearly closing. I didn't want to sleep though. I made it this far without sleeping. I just didn't want to see the image of my mother dead. That was reason enough to stay awake. But Edward made staying awake incredibly hard. He had gotten me a blanket and had wrapped it around me. My eyes kept betraying me by trying to close again. I was so tired, but I just didn't want to sleep.
I woke up only a few hours later. A little confused I lifted my head and pushed the blanket of me. I tried to remember why I didn't wanted to sleep again. And then it hit me, my mother had died, and I didn't want to sleep because I was afraid of what I would see in my dreams. Anxiously I was trying to remember what I had dreamed of. I just realized that I had dreamt of nothing. Just a empty hole, or maybe I just didn't remember. Either way, I was thankful enough. Edward had woken up too by the movement of my body.

"Good morning. Are you okay?'' he asked me very carefully.

"Edward…'' My voice sounded a lot weaker that I had intended it to sound, "Will you stay with me. I don't want to be alone.'' My voice ending in a whisper.

"Of course I will. I'll talk to my mother if you can stay with us for a couple of days. Is that alright?'' He whispered back.

I nodded.

"That would be incredible. I don't think I can stay in this house much longer."I thought.

"I know, my mother is not going to mind having you around,'' he whispered at me, "Now get some more sleep. It'll help.''

So what do you guys think? please review!