Hi everybody! If you're new to my fics, welcome! If you've read one before, welcome back!
I know that I'm in the middle of a different story at the moment, but I'm getting absolutely no reviews anymore. So I'm putting that on hold and I decided to try something else.
I hope everybody enjoys. This chapter may be a little depressing, but I guarantee the next few won't be. I hope.

Naomi xxxx

('.')

There are two questions I've been dwelling on for nine years straight. How the hell I survived that car crash, and who the hell caused it.

When I was just eight years old, my parents, my twin sister and I were in a horrific car crash. We were just arriving home from our annual, two week holiday in Washington DC. We had been driving for god knows how long, and we were just eager to get home and go to sleep.

My sister, Holly and I were playing a clapping game, laughing and giggling like mad. Both my parents were talking attentively about something, which I didn't understand because I was only young.

It was pouring down with rain of course, because we were nearing our hometown, Forks. It never stops raining in Forks; I've pretty much forgotten what the sun looks like. Since it was raining, the roads were exceptionally slippery. And since my Dad wasn't the best driver, it was only a matter of time before he'd slip. And he did.

As we were rounding a corner, just off the boarder of Forks, the car's tyres slipped and within seconds we had smashed directly into an oak tree.

I felt my stomach lurch forward, and my head smashed straight into the back of my Dad's seat. Luckily I was quite a responsible person and I was wearing my seatbelt. So fortunately I didn't crash into the windscreen. But unfortunately the window I was sitting next to had smashed. I was covered in glass and cuts, and I could feel my head bleeding.

My sister was screaming. My parent's were screaming. Dad's head had hit the windscreen, leaving a colossal crack in the glass. In her defence, Mum had held her hands up and ended up smashing her hands into the glass. I could see the shards stuck in her fingers.

As I was looking at Mum, I noticed something other than a tree in front of our car. I could see a shadow. A silhouette of a person, wedged right in between our car and the tree. Had we hit somebody instead of the tree? If we had, then surely that person would be dead. I wasn't that old, but I was old enough to know that if you get hit by a car and a tree at the same time, you'd most likely die. So why was this person moving? Why did this person look completely unscathed?

My family were still screaming high-pitched, piercing screams. I hadn't screamed once. I leaned forward, no matter how much it hurt, to see the person lodged between our car and the tree.

It was a boy. He looked much older than me, about seventeen or eighteen. His hair was bronze and short. Since the car's headlights were on, I could see the boys face. His eyes were a topaz colour, and he had a beautiful face.

Before I could see anymore, the boy managed to escape from the crushed metal. Without a moment's hesitation, he had run off.

That's when I snapped back to reality. My family had just been in a car crash, and all I was thinking about was the person we'd hit.

I looked over at Holly, hoping that nothing had happened to her. I really wish I hadn't looked.

I had lost my twin sister that night. My best friend.

My whole world.

That was nine years ago now. I am now an only child, and I still live with my parents in the same house.

When I was born, my parents named me Mary-Anne. I was born three minutes before Holly, so I'd always considered myself the older sister. Holly did too.

It took me months to be happy again, after that one fateful, rainy night on the boarder of Forks. Seeing my sister in that state, right before her death was just... well I can't explain it in words. And the fact that it was my sister; my best friend... just made matters ten times worse.

After the crash, I spent three nights in hospital along with my parents. I'd received a serious concussion when I slammed my head on the seat, and I needed several stitches from the glass. I'd lost a lot of blood, and I needed a crap load of morphine. I hated it. I hated the hospital. The uncomfortable beds, the sharp needles, the smell, the food. It was horrible, and I never wanted to go back there again.

I went through counselling a few weeks after I got out of hospital. My parents were worried about me; I would never laugh, smile, speak... I just wasn't human anymore. So they took me to a professional counsellor. It took her months to put me right again. At first I just wasn't co-operative. I wouldn't speak to the counsellor; I wouldn't even give her any body language. But after a few days of therapy, I'd grown up a little and started to co-operate. Within four months, I was back on my feet again.

Except for one thing. That boys face, the bronze hair, the topaz eyes... it popped into my head from time to time. And I couldn't remember every single feature of his face.

Ever since then, life went back to normal. Well, as normal as life gets anyway. I went back to my usual happy, bubbly self and returned to school. My parents were happy that I had bounced back, and they relaxed. They went back to work after their full recovery, and everything was fine. Well... not exactly everything. I still didn't have my sister.

It hurt a lot when I thought about her. Sometimes I just wished I could hug her again, just for a second. Then I'd feel a lot better. But unfortunately, I knew that wasn't going to happen. I knew that Holly wouldn't have wanted me to be a complete zombie whenever I thought about her. She'd want me to be happy and get on with life. But still... I can't help but mourn over her from time to time.

Just recently my parents and I went on our annual trip to Washington DC. For the first time in nine years.

We spent one week there, resulting in me missing out on a week's schoolwork. I didn't mind though, it was worth the catching up later.

I will admit, it was very, very depressing when we arrived in Washington. Last time we were there, Holly was alive and well. And now she wasn't.

Argh no, don't think those thoughts. It'll make you feel even worse, Mary.

I was even more edgy on the drive home, especially the corner where our crash was. I almost messed my pants when we passed that point. I noticed Dad slow the car down to about five miles an hour when we went around that corner. Nice thinking.

Unfortunately, the next day was a school day. I really couldn't be bothered going back to Forks High and putting up with all the extra work to catch up on. But it had to be done.

Do you like it? Do you think I should keep writing? Reviews will be most appreciated! I'll even reply!