Schooling had become tiresome rather quickly, and each lesson was just a blur of the same old information and the background noise of those who surrounded me. Looking back, I never atually learnt their names, but then again, with what I wanted to do, their names weren't nessecary.

Since a young age my path had been marked, drawn out and mapped across the walls of my mind. I'd known ever since he arrived I knew what I wanted to do and now, as I stand outside the building, looking up, I know I've made it. I was going to be a member of the BAU.

-Flashback-

Noise flooded the room, and although the colourful words of many different people merged together to make a grey noise, I could still work out the specifics of each conversation. Noise was a constant in life. It followed you everywhere, whether it be the slight sound of your breath in Winter or the slight pattering of your feet against the carpet, it was always there. It took hold of your heart and made you feel as though you weren't alone. It was the only thing that kept me sane.

"it's the same victimology report..."

"and each victim has the same characteristics..."

"A dark haired male between the ages of 30 and 40. Always a man in the authorities..."

"A fire man, police officer, doctor, ambulance worker. Anyone with any responsibility over the locals..."

These words hovered over my ears, slowly sinking into my brain, allowing me to formulate an idea of what was going on outside the door. I crept to the door, slowly opening it and coming face to face with a large man dressed in a marroon jumper and black suit pants.

"I thought there would be someone in here," he said, chuckling slowly to himself, walking into the room and sitting on the edge of desk staring at my rigid composure. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you were listening. I'm Gideon, I came with the FBI to check out the recent murders around Forks."

"I know," I replied, stepping forward holding my hand out. "I'm Isabella Swan, I'm Chief Swan's daughter."

"I know you are, however I am glad you told me. If I remember rightly you're ten years old?"

Cocking an eyebrow I stared at him. "Yes I am, however I would like you to know I'm not the average ten year old. I know a lot more than people give me credit for. I can tell you things most adults find unimportant and I can point out things most people wouldn't even notice. For example, I knew who you were before you came into this room aswell. I'm here most days and nobody notices I'm around when they're talking. I remember their debate about calling you in. I know you work in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, I know what your job consists of and I know that I have your attention because your eyes are focused clearly, your hand has stopped twitching- a nervous habit I'd say at a guess, maybe due to a lack of caffeine or cigarettes- and also by the fact you have leant forwards so far you may aswell be standing up."

He got to his feet and walked towards me. "And how do you know all this?" He asked curiously.

"I listen and watch carefully," I answered, smirking.

"You do well," he said, a smile on his face as he walked out of the room.

-Flashback-

That was the day my Father died. From his death they caught the criminal; they made a successful victimology report and the characteristics of the killer were correct, allowing him to be caught the next day. Although some may say a day to late, I understand how the death of my Father helped bring justice on so many others. Without his death, the killer wouldn't have been caught when he was.

I take a quick look behind me, noticing the bustle of people around me, people who are safe because of the work these people do. Taking a step forward I know this was what I am meant to be doing. This is my calling.