Pained Memories

I wish the darkness would surround me. I hoped and prayed for death, but it never came. I could no longer feel the need to see the sunlight anymore; I preferred to stay confined in my own personal hell to figure out what I am.

I have a vivid memory. Even when I was six months of age everything seemed clear. I remember I was four. I was running through the woods, tripping over a rouge branch, and breaking my arm. I was rushed to the hospital, in fear that I had broken something else.

I still remember the nurse who took care of me, the eccentric look in her eye, as though I was going to eat her. I laugh humorlessly at the thought of that now.

The nurse lifted me off the gurney, slowly so I wouldn't break anything else. A slow sensation crept up from my toes, until it reached my head. The sound of screaming awoke me. I was in a hospital bed. I patted down the covers and looked to my left. My mother was lying in the bed to my left. Her brown hair was matted on her face and her eyes looked gaunt. She was screaming. I turned my head in the opposite direction and saw my father in the same position as my mother: screaming in delusional pain. I used to scream as well, unknowing of what was happening around me, in fear I would die.

I had caught the disease. The disease that no one had survived. Nobody entered my ward, in fear that they would catch the disease as well. I screamed for hours at a time, hoping my parents and I would one day get out of this white walled hell. Eventually I screamed for pain, when my parents' screams slowly subsided, and the rise and fall of their chests died down as well, until they moved no more.

I was an orphan. I cried myself to sleep every night in that ward for a month, until the doctors came and confirmed that I was the sole survivor of the disease, but they were wrong. I was dying from the inside. It was slow.

I was sent to a foster home with ten other children. I loved my foster parents; they were so close to me, but it was not that same love I received from my real parents. They treated all the children, as if we were their own.

Christmas season had arrived. I was five. I used to love to watch the Christmas Carolers strolling by the streets, singing cheery songs about love and joy. One night the Carolers came by. Excited, I jumped up and down and followed them without my parents' permission. I soon lost sight of the Carolers and ran into an isolated street. I kept running through the ally in the dark until I saw him.

He was beautiful. His skin was whiter than the snow on the ground, it glittered in the moonlight. His skin glittered in the moonlight! His face looked as if it was chiseled from marble. His hair was dark brown and was extremely muscular. Everything about him was gorgeous, everything except his eyes. They were hard and cold, and burned a bright crimson. An Angel had come to take me away to my parents, I had thought. The minute I had taken a step toward him, I saw the hunger in his eyes. One second he was across the street, the next he was at my side. He took my arm and a fire ignited it.

I looked at him. He was sucking my blood! He had a pained expression on his face. He pulled away quickly with a yelp and he ran away in the other direction.

A fire coursed my body. Then, I froze. Ice was running though my veins. I was freezing. I couldn't breathe. I collapsed to the ground and attempted to scream but nothing came out. And then, nothing. I felt whole and powerful. The feeling of something eating away from my insides died away. The disease inside me died away.

I looked down at my arm where the crescent moon scar was slowly forming. That is how the police found me; staring in amazement, at my scar.

I sighed and looked down at my hands. I was a cold blooded monster. A memory reformed as I looked at the picture of my best friend that was lying on my bed side table.

"Ariana.", Monica said in worry.

"Ariana, I really think you should tell Miranda and Frank what you are."

"Monica I don't think I want to tell our foster parents that I am a monster," I said venomously.

"But Ari, you're not a monster you just don't…."

I could hear her talking, but my temper was flaring. It rapidly flew through my body. I felt my body quivering, and a ripping sound surrounded the empty warehouse, where Monica and I often met. I couldn't control myself. I started to attack my best friend. I started to rip her apart. Her screams echoed through the warehouse. The sound of her screaming brought me back to my senses. This was Monica, my best friend, my safe harbor. Her blood coated my golden fur in my wolf form. I attempted to transform into my human form, but instead I turned into a silvery monster.

The smell of her blood hit me with such a force. She smelled too delicious, I tried to resist, but I couldn't. I ran over to her side and sucked the blood out of her body. When I was done, I was horrified to look down. Ii knew what I would see; the cold lifeless body of the person who was the closest thing to family for me.

I ran away not even looking back at the warehouse. I kept running, I never wanted to face my old life again. That was four years ago.

I stood up. Walking to the bathroom I passed a mirror. There was no use to fix my jet black hair, or put on any makeup. I stared into my violet eyes, which sometimes turned a brilliant gold. I walked away from my apartment, to my car. I drove to school in the dreary rain. What else could you expect in Forks, Washington?

I pulled up in the parking lot to Forks High School and looked at the time. Noon. Shit. Now I will have to forge a tardy slip. I got out of my car, walking slowly to the lunch room. I got the same amount of attention I usually get, nothing.

I walked to an empty table to sit alone as usual.

"Man! The new kids are staring at Ariana like she is the devil", said Damion when I tapped into his brain to read his memories.

I turned around and looked at the table behind me. At the table there were nine people sitting there, five girls and four boys. Nine pairs of eyes stared at me in hate. Five pairs of golden eyes, a pair of black and a pair of brown glared at me in despise.

Hey so what do you think? Do you like this story? Review!

Just to clear some things up, Miranda and Frank are Ariana's foster parents. And no. The mystery vampire is not Emmett! Damion is just some random guy in the story. This story occurs seventy years after Breaking Dawn.

Give me your opinions. And I love to read burns! So review! :-D