"She won't make a sound

Alone in this fight with herself and the fears whispering if she stands she'll fall down

She wants to be found

The only way out is through everything she's running from

wants to give up and lie down."

Stand in the Rain by Superchick

I walk through the forest, pulling down my knit cotton tank that was riding up to expose my midriff. Just coming from a solo patrol. My hands lowering down to rest on the belt loops of my short-shorts, which used to be jeans before I asked Mom to cut and hem them; mostly because I always ended up sweltering in anything below my knees. The shorts were kinda baggy and seamed to fall lower and lower when I was otherwise distracted. I fact that Paul had not neglected to notice the one day I decided to wear a thong, an announcement that made the tips of my ears to turn red and every un-imprinted werewolf's eyes to trail downwards. I still haven't heard the end of it, I'd tell them that 'I am nineteen years old, what was I supposed to wear? Granny panties?' and Paul would answer 'No, I just thought that the singles in the pack needed a little pick-me-up.'

And then I'd call him a bastard.

I moseyed along the road of La Push. Passing by a few houses. Mrs. Call, Embry's mother, waved at me from her front porch. She was watering her array of multicolored flowers, a grueling job since she had about a hundred of them. Which seemed redundant since there was a caravan of grey clouds on the far horizon. But, she seemed to enjoy it, so I waved back shooting her a small smile before continuing to the cottage in which Sam and Emily lived.

It was decorated with a montage of foliage--while it wasn't as grand as Mrs. Call's garden--carnations dotted the window boxes in colors of white, blue, yellow, red, purple, and pink. Dragon snaps lined the oak tree that had been the same size--five feet--as when Emily had first planted. I wondered if it was an oversized bonsai tree. A rabbit scampered across the lush green grass, dashing into the trees shrouding the small house, where deer grazed on the blueberry bushes that were randomly placed on the lawn. The house itself looked a little out of place in it's setting; like it fell out of the sky and just happened to fall there. It looked like it belonged in the suburbs of Forks (is there any other part of Forks?) instead of the forests on the Reservation. It had white paneling on the walls, an ivory base contrasting greatly with the cobalt shutters. There was a circular shaped window towards the top of the paneled roof. I knew there was a window seat in the room that the window showed, an old maroon slip cover on a foam cushion and a wooden base. I knew because it used to be mine.

I gave it to Emily a few years ago, the August before my first year of college when I was cleaning out my room for a new storage area, den, or whatever Sue would've converted my room to after I left for college. I wanted to buy new furnishings for my dorm, a single, since I would have the whole space to myself. And had no reason to use the old futon that smelled of Old Spice and cigar smoke--like my dad--,when I had all of the dead space to embrace. I only had a few worldly possessions that made up the contents of my room: a twin poster bed, the pink comforter and sheets that I used, an old mahogany desk, and that ugly old window seat. I still had all of the furniture, save the desk, because someone else got the dorm that I planned to live in.

I felt like some ghostwriter had written a prelude to my fairytale, and then decided that they didn't want to continue with the tragic tale of bitter, cynical, little Leah Clearwater.

I kicked up some dirt with the heel of my Chucks, watching as the dust particles floated in the humid La Push air. Maybe my story was meant to end as a tragedy. Maybe someone had already finished and shelved the saga of Leah Clearwater; and I was left floating waiting for the epilogue of my story to meet it's impending demise, a new and final novel to add to the collection.

I sighed and trudged down the sidewalk, my feet making a monotonous pitter-patter as I stomped along; the sound of my fleeting good mood. I made a swift right turn onto a dirt driveway as Emily's house loomed in the distance.

Christ, all she needed was a goddamn white picket fence.

I banged onto the door of the cottage, my foot tapping steadily as I heard light, quick footsteps coming towards the door. Emily flung open the door and she smiled when she saw me, "Come in, come in." Emily chanted, ushering me inside the house and towards the kitchen known as the 'pack headquarters'.

Maybe we should get a secret handshake.

Embry and Seth were seated on the two barstools by the counter, drinking Cokes and munching on same Doritos which were placed in a plastic bowl, probably by Emily. Jacob and Paul were sprawled on the loveseat and couch; there long limbs hanging awkwardly off the furniture, which was obviously not made for werewolves. Embry was seated on the floor, watching Family Guy on CW. Sam was helping Emily cook some elaborate pasta, which would most likely be inhaled in less time than it took to cook. Colin and Brady where pulling the Doritos out of the bag (Aha, so that's where they went.) their eyes also trained on the TV as Peter was making some sexist/vulgar joke.

"Hey, Leah!" Seth called cheerily from the kitchen as I sat on the floor, smiling at me cheekily. I waved absentmindedly at him pretending to watch the television as the thoughts tumbled precariously through my mind.

I wonder what will happen next week, I thought, we had decided to form a comradeship with the vampires to have a better chance as allies in a upcoming battle with some newborn leeches, which shouldn't be that hard. Since they also had the skills of an infant in battle. A bloodthirsty, marble, indestructible infant.

I blew hot air skywards, ruffling a piece of bang that was in my face as the air blew up.

What if Jacob knows, I ponder, referring to the upcoming marriage between Bella and her leech. Sue had told me that she'd seen Alice Cullen at the Black Diamond bridal store in Port Angeles, since she knew that Alice and her boy toy, Jasper, had already tied the knot way before my great grandmother was born. And that Rosalie probably wouldn't be caught dead in anything less than designer--let alone at her wedding--she'd presumed that the wedding must be for Bella Swan the girl that Jacob had been pining for since he'd hit puberty. I'd managed to get her to promise to keep it 'hushedy-hush' claiming that the news would 'kill Jacob' and 'hurt Charlie'.

My eyes trailed the room lazily, and I saw Jacob looking at me oddly, I coked my head and raised my eyebrows. He shook has head, and turned to gaze at the window. A small smile playing at his lips.

Freaky.

There was an air of a casualness in the room, Colin and Brady were chatting amiably about the upcoming battle, Jacob was watching a swallow take off from the trees and flirt with the clouds, Paul was snoring loudly from his spot on the couch, Seth and Embry were discussing battle strategies, a grave expression plaguing there features and making them appear much, much older than they really were. Emily was prattling quietly to Sam about the dish she was making, and slapped him with the spatula when he shoved a bit of shredded mozzarella cheese from the glass bowl. But, she was laughing wholeheartedly at his antics; Sam was smiling sheepishly at her.

And that's when I saw it.

She was gesturing wildly as she spoke, laughing with her eyes closed as her body convulsed with it. Emily was playfully scolding him swatting at him with a tea towel. It was then that I saw a flash of light, and then again, as she waved her left hand in front of his face. Almost as if she was waving it in front of my face, bringing me back to reality.

News. Freaking. Flash.

It was a ring, a humble diamond etched into a simple silver band. I jumped up from the floor, knocking a vase of off the coffee table in my wake. My bare feet landed on a few shards of porcelain. And a hot smear of pain seared through my foot, I didn't care. Everybody stopped what they were doing and there eyes moved towards me. When Emily and Sam saw my eyes staring unwavering at Emily's left hand Sam looked abashed and Emily looked at me piteously; it was to much.

I saw Seth move from his perch on the barstool, as if to embrace me or restrain me. So I did the only thing that I knew how to do at the moment.

I bolted.

I ran as fast as I could, simultaneously phasing and ripping off my clothes at the same time. Leaving the shards of fabric falling downwards as my legs pumped in a steady motion through the forest, dodging trees and bushes. Broken howls escape my lips as I sprint, and my vision is blurred by tears that I will never let fall. Not here, not now, not when they can find me.

I run until a can smell the scent of leech, a sweet scent like withering roses or cheap perfume, mixed with the tall pines of the forest the odor borderlines medicinal. They wont cross into Cullen territory just to find me, even if we did have some kind of unspoken comradeship in the upcoming 'World War III: Mythical Creatures Edition'. I phased back--not bothering to look for clothes that Esme had left out somewhere for us--and huddled together my knee reaching just under my chin, rocking back and forth as the tears that threatened to spill before returned with a vengeance.

What a spectacle I must be! A naked girl, huddled in the forest, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks.

There's a blur of white skin on my left side, that disappears as fast as it comes, and reappears as soon as it's gone. I rise my head from the position it was before, and I'm met with the gold eyes of Rosalie Hale, clad in very expensive designer jeans, top, and trench coat. There's a spot of blood on her cheek and her hairs a little disheveled, but she still looks like a model for a breakout fashion designer. Upon thinking this, she wipes her hand across her cheek, and ruffled her waves a little.

"What are you doing out here?" she asks incredulously, looking me up and down disgustedly.

I give her my best glare and use my uber-bitch voice, "Having an emotional breakdown. You?" I ask offhandedly, weak and waveringly but it's there.

"Hunting." she states flippantly, brushing her hair with her finger, her blonde waves maintain their perfect billows almost instantly. Stupid pretty people. "What happened to you?" she asks.

"Emily and Sam are getting married." I say tiredly. Wincing as the words leave my mouth. Rosalie's eyes soften, retaining a maternal warmth that I didn't know she was capable of. She slips out of her jacket, placing on my shoulder. She extends her hand, and I feel obligated to take it. But, my prejudices against vampires are having a raging internal debate.

Vampire, bad, kill: is the mantra currently being repeated in the back of my head, a tiny part of my that is always wolf. Controlled by instinct and scents. The rest of my brain is reasoning with me: Take her hand. You need help. Take her hand.

"C'mon. I won't bite." she jokes, and a tiny smile spills out of me. I take her hand tentatively, and she pulls me up of the ground. Helping me put my arms in the cashmere sleeves of the trench coat, tying the sash around my waist, and fiddling with the collar. I wrap my arms around myself, indulging in the soft fabric.

"Do you like it?" she asks suddenly, "I, personally, never really did, it didn't fit right. You could keep it if you'd like." she adds.

I look at her cautiously and looked down at the coat, my hands gripping the fabric, "Thank you." I said quietly and a little skittishly. She looks at me oddly, her eyes appraising my facial expression with the utmost determination. I quickly adapt my features into a hard, melancholy mask. Her sculptured eyebrows furrow and I take the time to speak trying to redirect her attention. "Why?" I ask simply, she seems to be confused so I continued. "Why are you helping me?"

She takes a deep measured breath, "Out of all the werewolves; you're the one I hate the least." she says, lifting a branch so I can step through it. I hurriedly oblige, "You're strong, determined, and you don't take and bullshit--" she chuckles, "I admire you."

"Seriously?" I ask, refusing to believe her. "You admire me? Leah Clearwater? Residential bitch of La Push?"

She looks at me blankly before erupting into a fit of giggles, " I have to tell Emmett about that one, he'll love it. Because bitch is a female dog and your--"

I put my hand up to silence her, "Yeah, yeah. I've heard that one before." I say huffily, rolling my eyes and smiling at her, she returns the gesture.

We reach the Cullen house--Ahem, mansion--Rosalie opens the door grandly and announces "I'm home!"

Emmett and Alice are sitting at the couch watching some movie on the TV, both of them turn their heads to greet Rosalie, "I found her in the woods." she adds, pointing to me and sitting on the loveseat adjacent to the couch.

I stand there a little awkwardly before I decide that sitting next to Rosalie would be better than standing here like I'm incompetent. "Please disregard how weird that sounds." I say, walking over to where Rosalie is perched and taking a seat next to her.

Alice shoots me a smile, I wonder if this is as awkward as it is for me to her? Emmett laughs loudly his eyes still trained on the TV. A girl is running away from some dark figure her high heels clacking as she runs at the amazing pace of point two miles per hour. Whoopee! "So this is what you do all day? Watch bad horror movies?" I ask, my eyes trained on Alice and Emmett.

"Noooo…." Emmett enunciates, eyes still on the TV.

"Oh, yeah. That was a riveting argument Emmett," Alice teases, flicking her brother on the head. "You should of seen us before TV's," she says, "Lots of board games." she turns toward me and winks, her eyes trailing down my scantily clad body. "We need to get you a new outfit!" she exclaims, dashing up the stairs with her vampire speedy-ness.

I groan, "Word on the street is: Alice induced makeovers are inescapable and torturous."

"Who's your source?" Rosalie asks, flipping absentmindedly through a glossy magazine the words Glamour printed on the cover in ginormous letters, an obviously photo-shopped girl posing seductively in a tight tee is covering the page.

"Common sense." I say, covering my face with my hand.

Emmett abruptly gets up, his body flying to the door, he yanks it open before the person even has the chance to knock. Jacob stands at the door, looking slightly frightened and a trifle shocked. Emmett comes back to sit on his respective place on the couch, "Leah," Jacob starts looking completely gob smacked, "are you hanging out with bloodsuckers?"

"Yeah jackass, what of it?" I ask giving him The Glare (which is now a proper noun).

"Um, nothing." he stutters "Sam wanted me to bring you back there's a pack meeting tonight."

"Ugh. Fine." I say, getting up and dusting some invisible lint off my trench. Alice comes down like a flash, upon hearing my departure she thrust a cardboard box in my general direction. It weighs, like, a hundred pounds.

"These are for you." she says, flitting over to the couch again.

"Thanks!" I call over my shoulder as me and Jake walk towards the door.

"See you later!" Rosalie calls.

Later? Impromtu rescues in the woods I can handle, but actually coming here by choice? "Yeah. Later." I say lamely as the door closes behind me.

Boom bam baby! Two drabbles and a new story in one day. I'm so awesome. At least I think I am! Reviews are love!

Summer :)

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