Author's Note… In the beginning of New Moon, Carlisle brought up the topic of religion as he stitches up Bella's arm. Bella states, "My own life was fairly devoid of belief… Renée tried out a church now and then, but, much like her brief affairs with tennis, pottery, yoga, and French classes, she moved on by the time I was aware of her new fad."
The prologue takes place when Bella was a child and just found out that her mother had tried out a church and was sorely disappointed by the religious experience.
Disclaimer… The Twilight Saga belongs to none other than Stephanie Meyer.
Growing up in the Phoenix suburbs was hard sometimes; other children didn't understand families that weren't like their own. Up until I started school, I didn't even think my family was different from the 'norm.' I had two homes, one in Phoenix, Arizona with my mother and one in Forks, Washington with my father. They were polar opposites. My mother, Renée, was giddy and always had something to say while my father, Charlie, was more of a quiet man. I think I take after my father, but I enjoy being around Renée; her bubbly personality always spilled over, infecting everyone around her. I had the best of two worlds, but other kids didn't understand that.
Renée always wanted me to be more social, so for my eighth birthday, I invited a friend from school over for a slumber party. When she asked where my dad was, I explained to her that he lived in Washington.
She asked what every kid that age asks, "Why?" Not fully comprehending that moms don't always stay with dads and dads don't always try to stay with their kids, or at least that's what it seemed like sometimes, she asked again. "Why?"
That was the first and last sleep over I ever had. I didn't mind though; it was better with just my mom and I, no one prying into our personal lives.
Just like every summer, I went up to see Charlie. Summers with Charlie were usually boring and I would be stuck hanging out with Rebecca and Rachael Black while my father went fishing with their father, Billy, but I still enjoyed being able to see my dad. At the end of the summer, I was always impatient to get home to Renée, but not ready to leave Charlie. It was the worst time of year for me. It would be an entire year before I would get to see him again. He would never leave Forks; our lives were too far apart, too complicated if you will. Shrugging off my old worries, I tried not to place any of the blame on my dad; my mom had to get out of Forks. I didn't blame her though, I think I would leave too if I was her, but only if it meant that my dad wouldn't get hurt. Unfortunately, he was hurt; I could see it when he looked at me, even though he tried to hide it.
When I got off the plane in Phoenix, I half expected to see my mother nearly vibrating with excitement to have me home as she usually did when I got back, but instead, she helped me with my bags and led me to the car without a decent smile. This was so unlike her. She looked so regimented and sullen. When we reached her car, she pulled me in for a hug, kissing my forehead, but it wasn't her usual greeting; I was worried. Her strange new emotion replaced her smiles with frowns and clouded her eyes over. She seemed desperate and clingy. Everything and anything was coming to mind as to why the change in her behavior. Did someone die? Was she sick? Did something happen to Charlie while I was in flight? I'm sure she would have said something by now if it were serious. The entire ride home from the airport was made in silence. If a pin did indeed drop, I would have heard it. My mother was never quiet. I was turning ten in September, but I liked to think myself as a perceptive person and I knew my mother better than I know myself… I think.
Dinner that night went the same way. Silent. Even though she fixed my favorite meal, it didn't seem to make me feel any better. She had the slightest crease between her beautiful green-hazel eyes. I wanted to know what had changed over the past month that made my mother so withdrawn. What had affected her so deeply?
That night, when she tucked me into bed, a ghost of her smile lit her face.
"You know I love you, right?" she said. What kind of question was that? Of course I knew she loved me.
I just nodded, afraid my voice would betray the fear and panic rising in my chest. My mother was acting so strange; I just wanted the old Renée back, the one I left a month ago.
"You really are special, Bella. Don't let anyone tell you differently," she said, content with my answer. "Do you want to hear a bed time story?" She smiled and I nodded again, getting sleepier by the minute. I had to force my eyelids to stay open.
"A long time ago, in the early 1600s, a woman named Lizbeth Knowlton lived in England with her grandfather, Knight Milton Ivan Knowlton. Lizbeth was beautiful as could be; she was a free spirit and thought for herself, which was not typical of women back then. She always turned down the young men that came to court her and was thought to have been given too much freedom from her grandfather." My mother's face grew dark again.
"Rumors began to fly around the city of London about Lizbeth. People of the town had seen her swimming in a stream on her grandfather's estate and it was believed then that only witches could swim. An innocent woman would always sink to the bottom while the guilty would stay afloat. However, the clergy didn't have substantial proof to prosecute a woman of her standing. The only thing saving her from burning at the stake was her grandfather's title as Knight.
"When Lizbeth was only seventeen, her grandfather grew very sick and died, leaving her his estate. Shortly after his death, she met a captain's son named Nicholas Cole and recognizing that she needed a man to help support the land, they married. It was unbecoming of a woman of her status to marry a man of the sea. The church still kept a close eye on Lizbeth; they still thought her a witch and no longer had her grandfather's name to protect her.
"About a year after Nicholas and Lizbeth wed, she gave birth to two beautiful twin girls, a brunette with wide, innocent brown eyes and a redhead with reflective green-hazel eyes." My mother's face softened as she stroked my hair against the pillow. A single tear escaped, sliding down her cheek and falling on the bed beside me. "This was the proof the Church had been waiting for, 'witch twins.' The church's clergy made the decision in the best interest of the parish to rid them of Lizbeth and her spawn. Lizbeth had a vision of the impending attack and told Nicholas to take the girls and leave, as far and as fast as he could. Lizbeth had to protect her family; it was her duty as a mother and as a wife. She felt she needed to stay to surrender and finish what had been started, afraid that if the Clergy didn't find her, they wouldn't stop until they did. They would hunt them down for all of eternity if she didn't face them.
"Lizbeth was taken away to the church to be locked up until morning for her public punishment. As she sat in the cell, a clergyman and his son sat watching her, reading scriptures to help prepare her sole for eternal damnation. During the night, Lizbeth had a prophesy. She foresaw that for generations to come, her daughters would be gifted twins. One, the redhead, will be the aggressor, able to control all things physical, while the weaker brunette will be the defensive, protecting her and her sister's mind from intrusion. However, because of the hatred humanity had cast on the family for their differences, the twins would always be in danger, not from the outside world, but from themselves. The daughters can only live together in harmony when growth has stopped." My mother paused for a moment with a frown clouding her face once more. She seemed to be deep in thought before continuing. "Seeing as it is impossible to stop growing, even as an adult, the girls would never be able to live together." As Mom's story was coming to a close, I felt my eye lids droop farther, picturing this beautiful woman locked up in a church, waiting to be burned at the stake.
"What happened to her husband and daughters?" My voice was thick with sleep.
"Nicholas was set to stow away on his father's ship that was to leave for the New World in a few weeks, but ended up setting sail before the sun even rose that morning in order to save them from being found. Nicholas didn't know about the prophecy and didn't realize he had to keep the girls apart. Over the course of the several month journey, the brunette was 'accidentally thrown' overboard and drowned, fulfilling Lizbeth's premonition. One twin would always die, usually the weaker brunette at the hand of her sister."
That night I slept like a rock, exhausted from worrying about my mother and her strange bedtime story. I remember floating in and out of dreams about a redhead I had never met, a redhead that looked almost exactly like me. In every dream, she had the ability to move things with her mind. She was incredibly strong and her 'gift' was amazing to watch. I felt weak compared to her. Her movements were powerful and while I watched helplessly, I knew I was the weak one.
I was the one meant to die.
Author's Note… Nice little prologue for you…
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