If you took Sleepy Hollow and sent it foward a hundred years, you'd probably find yourself in Forks. But Sleepy Hollow probably had better weather. Let me know if there is ever anything other than a few precious hours of sunshine in thise place.

Now. Why am I in a 21st century Sleepy Hollow? Because my life turned into a fairytale; that's why. And I don't even know what's wrong with me. People aren't supposed to want to eat people. That's not how our minds are supposed to work, right? Maybe I'm not people anymore, maybe I'm just one of the demons that missed it's way to hell. No. I'm sick. That's all. Sick.

Teenage angst I can deal with. Suicidal tendencies? Nothing terribly new. But thinking I'm a vampire? Vampires aren't real. They're Halloween stories. The "coven" in Denali was just a bunch of freaks pretending...weren't they? If they were pretending, why am I here in Forks looking for another coven?

I should be crazy...or dead, seeing as I have tried and failed several times. And I'm starving. Something makes my stomach twist and an animal rise behind my eyes. Especially around people. Most people. I don't like how people make me feel.

So that explains why I was walking down the middle of the road at three o'clock in the morning. By myself. Thinking murderous, bloody, glorious thoughts. The fact that I haven't seem to have slept in months isn't bothering me.

I heard the semi a long time before it's lights even glimmered on the highway. And it occured to me, what's one more shot at death? Apparently it won't work anyway, so what's one more shot. So I stretched out...in the middle of the road and let my mind drift off into crimson dreamland. At some point I really did think about getting up, but the thought of dying was a bit more appealing. So I'm suicidal. Sue me.

Apparently the driver called the paramedics. And the EMT's thought I was dead when the got out there. I wasn't moving. Of course I was dead. I'm supposed to be dead. Can I please die now?

I just tuned out the world until everything got quiet again. And I sat up to see a marble white face standing at my feet. He was smiling slightly. A nice smile, a warm one. He was wearing a white coat. I was in a hospital.

"Am I dead yet?" I put a hand to my face and pushed hard on the bones under my eyes. I could smell blood all over this place. It made my mouth water and my head hurt.

"You know that you're not." His voice matched his smile. Warm, nice. Fatherly even. Like I even know what that means.

"Can I please die now? It's getting old." I crossed my legs, Indian-style, and glared at him. His eyes were still smiling, a coffee-colored gold that was contagious, but at the moment I wasn't in the mood for nicey-nice. My book was next to the bed, looking dirtier than usualy against the sterile white of the room. I grabbed it, rescuing the text from it's lonely spot.

He almost smiled again.

"Come one. You're coming home with me." He took a clipboard and wrote something on it. What else could I do? Live in the ER for all eternity? Huh. No one really saw us. But he led me around some back ways to ensure we wouldn't get stopped.

"Why amd I coming with you?" I had to stretch my steps to stay even with him, though I still can't figure out how he moves like that.

"My name is Carlisle." He opened the door of a midsize sedan for me. "Just trust me." He closed it and walked around to the other side.

"Trust you?!" My jaw dropped and I stared at him as he got in the car and started it. "I don't even know you!"

"Seatbelt." He was ignoring me. This man is driving off iwht me. From a hospital. And all he can say is seatbelt?!

I snatched at the strap, clicking it on, then promptly slouched into the seat and put my feet on the dashboard, making sure my shoelaces didn't untie themselves. I heard him sigh through his nose as we hit a rural highway.

"It's safer for you to have a place to stay. Even better to stay with your own kind." His voice was calm, even...and it was starting to make me angry.

"What are you talking about? Own kind?! I'm people, I belong with people. Not freaks who pretend to be some kind of monster from fairytales!" My temper and probably my relative grip on sanity was slipping. I saw his hands tighten on the steeing wheel and felt a stab of bitter satisfaction.

"Being what you are makes you no less 'people'-" His voice had gotten ice cold.

"Oh bite me!" I interrupted him, glancing at his face before fixing my eyes back on my ratty shoes, hugging my book tighter to my chest.

And just to be the maraschino cherry on top of the whole mess, I could almost feel Carlisle start smiling again.

"I doubt that would make much difference at this point." He turned the car into a long driveway that led to a drool-worthy house. "Welcome to my home."

My jaw-dropped before I could really recompose myself. When Carlisle smiled again I scowled and closed my mouth, teeth clicking together. But curiosity killed the cat.

"You live here?!" I unbuckled my seatbelt and scooted out of the car before he could be a gentleman again.

"Yes, with my...family." He followed my up to the door, resting feather-light fingers on my shoulder. I jerked away from his hand, angry again. Anyone who knew me in life wouldn't know me now. I used to be really touchy-feely, but now I can't stand anyone touching me.

The door opened and a woman stood in it's frame, statuesque in the silvery light.

"Carlisle, what on earth are you doing, walking out of here at absurd hours of-oh..."She put spidery hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

Luckly enough for me, he didn't touch me again.

"This," His smooth face cracked into a grin. "Is a stray that the EMTs of Forks found on the highway."

I didn't even try to smile, at this point I was wound a little too tight, was a little too annoyed, and just a little too upset to make a good first impression.

"My name's Jack." I shrugged and pulled the book a little tighter to me.

"From Jaquelin, how lo-" My temper cut her off.

"No. It's just Jack."

And I could feel Carlisle smiling.