I do not own Twilight. I'm sure you all know that though. If I did, I'd be like any other person who doesn't own Twilight...out there with the characters rather than here obsessing over them and bending them to my will. Mwahaha...this is my first Twilight fic though, so I would very much appreciate the reviews.

...Have fun. : )

The playground was exactly as I remembered it

The playground was exactly as I remembered it. The sand box was in no better condition than it had been when I had last seen it, and its contents still resembled something more like dirt than actual sand. The monkey bars still failed to receive a paint job, and they were so worn that they had more of a metallic color than the green that they had originally been. And the swings: the place where most of my childhood had been wasted away dozing off. They were the most nostalgic part of the entire scene. They were the oldest component of the entire playground, their chains squeaking in protest as their occupants pushed to and fro. Only one person inhabited the swings today, her dark brown hair covering her pail face as she stared intently at her feet. There were tears in her eyes, I knew. Not because I saw them streaming down her face behind her curtain of hair, but because this scene was not unfamiliar to me. It could not have been; it was my memory.

I watched my younger self kick at the ground, sniffing here and there as she tried to pull herself together. I wanted to go to her; to put my arms around her small, frail body and tell her it was okay. But it wasn't okay. I felt uneasiness drop into the bottom of my stomach. The look in her eyes, it was one I promised myself I would never have to wear again. I had vowed to push this memory away, to just forget it and pretend that it never happened. I couldn't change the past, and I would never forgive myself for what I did. What was the point in torturing myself?

My piteous moment was interrupted as my younger self's eyes grew large and her head whipped around to stare intently at a group of trees a couple feet away. I stared too, entranced by whatever mystery had caught her attention. Minutes passed before a figure stepped gracefully out of the bushes. There was no cracking of twigs as it escaped the entanglement; it was as if they had moved aside to let it past. "It" was a she. And she was not nearly a gracious enough term. She was just as beautiful as I remembered. She was tall and thin, but not lanky. Her hourglass of a body stood out perfectly against the thin white material that she wore, as well as the muscles of her arms and legs. The tight leggings, long sleeved shirt and tall flat heeled boots stood out in obvious contrast to her skin, which was unnaturally dark for someone like her. Her blue eyes were sinister and stormy, but they lit up as her gaze landed on younger me, and her plump lips broke out into a smile. She pushed some chestnut brown hair out of her face and strode lithely toward the swings. My stomach dropped even lower.

The woman crouched in front of young me, leveling their gazes as she stroked my face lovingly.

"Hello there little Ianthine. I've been searching all over for you." the woman cooed, her voice so far back in my memory I was surprised dust did not fall from it. It was like music to my ears.

"I've been here since morning, like always," I pouted, turning my head in a sort of defiance to the woman's gentle scolding.

"Aye, 'tis the way it always is. But it's your day of birth is it not? I naturally assumed…" the woman began.

"That I'd be with my family? Well I'm not," I snapped, folding my arms like someone much older than myself. The woman did not look taken aback by my harshness. Instead, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and grabbed my chin to look at my face.

"Are you cross with me?" she questioned gently, laying her other hand on my arm. The face of younger me instantly changed from one of frustration to one of sadness as I grabbed her hand and began tracing circles on it.

"I could never be angry with you…" I muttered.

"Good!" the woman exclaimed, standing up straight and putting her hand out for mine. "Let us go then. I have something spectacular to show you for your birthday."

My younger self's face turned hard again as I dropped her hand. "I can't."

Confusion crossed the woman's face again. "Why not? Are you busy with your family today?"

"No."

"Well then?"

"Well then what?"

"Why can't you come with me?"

My look became fearful then, and I looked at the ground. "That's not what I can't do," I said softly.

"I don't understand little one," she replied.

"Stop calling me that!" I yelled. Now the woman did look taken aback. I had never yelled at her before. She had seen me throw tantrums, and she sometime got the worst of them, but that was rare and I have never actually been angry at her before.

"Calling you what?"

"Little one! I'm not little anymore!"

"Well that's not a problem. I'll just stop calling you that then," she conceded.

"Don't you see? That's exactly the problem."

"…Bella, it is very rare that you confuse me. Today however, is setting the record."

Younger me rolled her eyes and put her face in her hands. The woman crouched in front her again and tried to pull her hands away.

"What is it Bella?" she asked quietly. I flinched at the name. She very rarely called me Bella, and I was not used to the way it rolled of her tongue. I missed it.

"I'm getting older…" younger me sobbed. The woman took me into her arms and rocked me back and forth.

"That's a good thing," she comforted. "One day you'll be as tall as me and I can finally look straight at you instead of looking down," she joked.

"That's not what I mean," younger me corrected, now looking the woman in the eyes. "My brain, my…imagination is getting older. It's starting to question things now." The woman still wore a look of confusion.

Younger me sighed dejectedly. "Mom told me I'm getting too old for this. She told me that I shouldn't be playing with imaginary friends anymore." Realization dawned on the woman's face, and she stepped back as if she had been slapped.

"But Bella…"

"Don't. I already know what you're going to say. Please don't. It will only make this harder," I pleaded.

"Bella, what exactly do you want?"

"I want…I want you to leave me alone. I don't want to remember this anymore." Younger me had a look of defiance. I was sobbing. The woman's look was heart wrenching. Tears filled her blue eyes, but they refused to spill over. They both stood there in silence for a few minutes, younger me trying to remain calm and the woman having a furious debate in her head. She nodded her head consentingly.

"As you wish," was all she said. She stroked my younger self's face one last time, and with that she was gone.

Younger me stared into the woods for a long time. Comprehension hit like a tidal wave, and she turned frantic as she truly grasped what she had just done. She opened her mouth to scream, and at the same time I shot up out my deep sleep, crying the same thing as she.

"Caelia!"

"Caelia!"...I love that name...wish it was mine. You'll have to wait to see what that one means. Or you can be a meanie and look it up on Google.

Ianthine-frail flower

Thanks for reading!