Here's a new story! It goes like this: Angela moves back to Forks with Ben, and their 17 year-old daughter Maya. Maya discovers Bella's diary that was hidden under the floorboard along with Edward's CD, the pictures, etc... She discovers all types of things that might just be important later on...

Please read and review, or check out my other stories!

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I groaned as I lifted my heavy, heavy suitcase up the rickety stairs and to my new room.I scrunched up my nose as I looked outside, it's summer but it's raining buckets! My thoughts were already rebelling to the atmosphere of my new home. This was definitely going to take some getting used to, after the beautiful summers of San Francisco.

"Maya, do you need help?" My dad called from the bottom of the stairs.

"I got it!" I yelled back down, and with a final heave, landing my gargantuan suitcase on my new bed. I looked around my room once more. It'll have to do, I reminded myself. Nothing some paint, some posters, a couple thousand books and CD's couldn't fix.

My mom, Angela, ambled in then, struggling with an armload of books. She dropped them beside my bed.

"How do you like your room, honey?" She asked sweetly as she started lining up my books on the shelves.

I took a handful of books and joined her, filling shelves; "It's not bad, though I'd like to paint it."

"We'll have to move out all of the furniture… we could even do it today or tomorrow, if you really want."

I grinned, "Sure! Let's do it!"

"You'll have to sleep on the couch while it dries, though… What colours do you want?"

My old room had been purple, but I didn't feel like purple anymore. The light blue of this room wasn't working with me, though.

"Well, after I'm done with all my posters and shelves, we're not going to see much of the walls anymore. How 'bout just white?"

My mom smiled, "Sure, honey. I'll send your dad to get the supplies as soon as he's done downstairs." She put down my books and stepped to the door "Ben!"

"Yeah?"

"Come up here for a minute?" She chuckled, "Too lazy to walk up stairs, what are we going to do with him."

I laughed as my dad trudged up the stairs, "What is it, dear?"

"Do you think we could paint this room white real quick? The blue isn't working out for Maya."

I did my best with the puppy-dog eyes, and it worked. He rolled his eyes at me deliberately before reaching in his pocket for his car keys, and handing them to me, "You go get the paint. I have to put together the table. You know the way, it's not far."

"Seriously?" I grinned, pulling my dad into a brief hug before sprinting down the stairs.

"Thanks guys, I'll be right back!" I shouted to the house in general as I got into my dad's car and quickly started the engine.

As I drove, I took a good look around town, humming along to the Kaiser Chiefs disc I threw into the car stereo. Rain, rain… more rain. And quite some green, too. This would definitely take some getting used to.

I'd spent my life in San Francisco, right up until the end of my junior year, when my mom announced that we had to move back to her and my dad's hometown of Forks. Gran Weber wasn't doing too well, and my mom wanted to come back to take care of her. I couldn't protest to that; I'd just have to get along as best I could.

The house we'd bought used to belong to the police chief of this picturesque little town. His name was Charlie Swan. My mom was so distraught when he died; she'd been a good friend of his daughter, Bella. She often spoke of Bella, though she hadn't heard of her since college. Sometimes I'd watch her stare at the yearbook pictures of Bella, and her boyfriend of the time, Edward. She hadn't heard from either of them for over 20 years, not since they got married. I wondered what happened to them. Bella's room was now mine; god knows what kind of history played out there.

My parents had moved together to San Francisco after studying in Seattle, for which I was grateful. Endless wet wasn't really my type of weather. They got married, raised a kid there, and now we were moving back. This was my roots, this place.

I took a deep breath of the fresh humid air as I stepped out of my dad's car. At least it would always smell good here, like the earth and the trees. It would always smell like that. I smiled when I thought of it, and I entered the hardware store, the aisles lined with rows and rows of paint.

I was in and out quickly enough, and when I returned home, all of the furniture was moved out of my room already, filling up the hallway.

"Do you want to do it alone, dear?" My mom asked.

"Sure, let me just go get my stereo and I'll paint this thing!" I hurried downstairs to pick the perfect CD for wall painting; The Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I set up my paint rollers, got on an apron, and got to work. It wasn't long before I got tired, and I stepped back to admire my work so far. That was when I lost balance, and tripped. The huge thump I made was covered up by the sound of my music, so my parents didn't quite notice from where they were. On the floor and groaning in pain, I looked around to see what I'd tripped on. Eventually I found it; a loose floorboard. I'd have to fix that later.

I got up carefully, remembering where it was so that I could glue it down or something when I had the time. I managed to finish the paint-job before sundown, while neighbors came in and out to say hello, to see my parents, Angela and Ben again. Many of them were friends from high school. My parents were dead-tired by 8 PM, so they headed off to sleep without dinner, which was pizza. I sprawled out on the couch, myself, and fell asleep instantly. Moving was such tiring business.

My dreams that night were troubling; strange images of the forest and of the beach, with wolves and other frightening creatures prowling around in the darkness. I could feel their eyes upon me as I stumbled through the forest. The wind whispered ethereal words that resonated throughout the woods.

I woke up early, extremely unsettled by what I'd seen in my dreams. The smell of pancakes distracted me sufficiently, though, so I headed out to our new kitchen, where my dad was having some coffee and my mom was making the food.

I sat down, "'Morning."

"Hey Maya, how'd you sleep? Is the couch okay? Your room'll be dry tonight, we'll let it air out a bit. I've already thrown the window open." My mom said over her shoulder from the stove.

"It was okay, I slept fine," I lied, "But I can't wait to get into an actual bed. I'm gonna go check the paint, I'll be right back."

"Your food's almost ready, dear."

"Won't take a minute, mom."

I headed back up to my room. It smelled a bit funky, but the paint was well on it's way to drying. I looked around my floor, searching for the floorboard I'd found yesterday. I found it quickly, deciding to take a look at what was underneath. Maybe I'd actually find something!

Gripping at the edges of the plank with my fingers, I managed to lift it up quickly. I gasped at what I found underneath. What I saw first was a CD case. Underneath it, something that looked like a stack of pictures. God knows how old these things were! I lifted them both carefully, placing them on the floor next to me. Looking further, I found a leather-bound notebook. I rifled through the pages, full of lines and lines of words, in complete awe. Who would've thought what you could find underneath loose floorboards in old houses!

I didn't know what to do with them. But then I heard "Maya! Food's ready!" from downstairs, and I hastily put the items back into place. I'd decide what to do with them later.

I ran downstairs, and, out of breath, took my seat at the kitchen table. Should I tell them, or not?

I decided not to; I didn't even know whom those things belonged too, and maybe they were meant to stay a secret. I shoved a piece of pancake into my mouth and grinned to myself; maybe Forks would be interesting after all.

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Cheerio,

-Mint.