Author's Note: Hello. This is my first multichapter here, so I hope it's up to par. It's really cryptic at times and I hope I make sense.

I'm also looking for a beta reader, so if anyone is interested then please let me know.

Just a note: this is six years in the future. I mention it in the story, but I'm just stating it here again.

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will always know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in bold. Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

Europa

I ran out the yellow taxi cab once the hospital was in sight. Before I could reach the sliding doors to the entrance, the driver called out to me in an indigent yell.

"Hey, Sugarlips!" He reached over the passenger seat and glared at me from the window, "you gotta fuckin' pay!"

I looked back and tossed him a couple twenties that reached nowhere near the cab.

"Keep the change, asshole," I spat and continued to run in the hospital. I ran up to the receptionist desk, the stench of death and carcass in the air gave my stomach a lurch. I slammed my palms on the desk and glared at the older woman with sea foam green eyes that reminded me of my mother with the worried glance she gave me. The familiar tingle when her eyes squinted slightly, glistening in the artificial lighting, but dark enough with the hue of worry and disappointment. My stomach constricted and the familiar sensation of guilt flooded my stomach.

"Where is she?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry, Honey. But you need to calm down, tell me the last name of the patient that you're trying to visit," the older woman with graying hair spoke softly and slow. Articulating each word with precision, slow enough only for a foreigner.

"Clearwater," I spoke frantically. My fist clenching and unclenching periodically. She was moving too slow. She typed agonizingly slow into the computer screen. She looked up and gave me a reassuring smile, much like my mothers. "Okay Honey, I have a Clearwater for room 712. That'd be up the elevator t-" I back away slowly, her words processing slower than what my mind was moving. Before she could finish giving me the directions. I muttered an incoherent 'thank you'; slurred enough to be a drunk man's speech. Ignoring the looks passerby's giving me.

I turned around and ran to the elevator, rapidly pushing the up button. Tears threatening to fall down with every passing thought of my mother on the hospital bed.

"Come on, you fucking elevator," I sputtered out, still punching the up button. The doors open and I ran inside, bumping into the people who were exiting. A few murmurs of, "rude bitch" and "asshole" were heard, but quickly ignored. I punched the 7 button and ran my fingers through my ragged hair cut that was uneven and frayed on the ends. I griped the strands and tugged. Desperate to feel anything other than guilt and sorrow that pours through my mouth and spills on my skin. Just as the doors were closing, a man squeezed his way in with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The delicate smell of lilies and baby's breath engulfed the air around us and encased my nose and held it captive. He spared me one cursory glance. With his eyes set like cameras, I could feel his beady eyes boring holes in my skin.

Ignoring him, I brought a shaky hand to rub my runny nose and let the onslaught of tears mar my face. Memories of my mother and I rushing like feral waves of a tide in my mind. I hiccupped and placed my hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs; choking on hot saliva.

With a blurry vision enough to be a blind man's sight, I watched as the elevator moved with slow precision, stopping periodically at each level to welcome newcomers. Tapping my foot impatiently and promptly ignoring everyone's stare, I watched as the light hovered over the number 7 pronouncing that I've reached my level. Once the elevator dinged, I ran out of the elevator, bumping into a family and stumbling over a kid with pig tails, clutching a stuffed animal that looked like a bunny by the ears. Frantically, I looked between the hallways, digesting which way to go. Which way my mother was on the hospital bed.

A skeptical nurse came up to me with deep brown eyes, black hair in a pony tail, and with caramel skin. Coking her head to the side, her questions fell upon deaf ears. My mind running away with me with each glance I took to the different hallways. My eyes dancing a frantic and desperate dance around the room, searching for a sign that could lead me to room 712.

"Miss! I'm sorry, but you can't be up here if you don't have a visitors pass! Miss. Miss?" I glanced at her and dashed to the right, running pass door after door.

"703, 704, 705... 712" I murmured to myself as I ran like a maniac down the pale white halls, the draft of antiseptic and the haunting smell of death filled my blackened lungs. I came to an abrupt stop, inches away from running into the door frame. From the doorway of the ICU room 712, I could see everyone that I was desperately trying to escape. Ignoring the looks that everyone gave me, my eyes walked to the bed that my mother was currently on.

Noticing the stillness of the room, she slowly turned her head. Instantly when her eyes met mine, her eyes widened, tears pooling in her eyes waiting for the dam to break. My heart cracked when I saw the state my mother was in, black and blue bruises stained her once beautiful, flawless, russet skin, bones on the brink of breaking, but her eyes. Her eyes that once used to be full of life, were slowly dying away with each tainted oxygen she inhales in this hospital. Death was two blocks away and she left her door open with a nice apple pie in the window seal.

I robotically walked over to her bed. She slowly opened the palm of her hand, beckoning me. Dropping to my knees ungracefully in front of her, I buried my head in the white sheets that smelled like ammonia and detergent. Fisting the sheets, I cried.

"We are all in one or another selfish machines. In no way is this a negative thing, its human nature. We all have natural tendencies to want, love, and take. When it comes down to it, humans have animal like qualities that we keep inside and even try to deny-but no matter how morally good someone may think they are or try to be, we are all still humans..."

Vic Fuentes

And I cried.

I looked up to my mom and wailed. I felt her wrinkled and frail hands creep into mine. I squeezed her hands and she weakly squeezed mine in return. Even her strength was dying. A once strong woman, now held the grip of a toddler. I met her eyes and for once, her eyes held no disappointment, but love. The type a love a mother can only show her daughter.

"Mommy!" I wailed, resounding off the walls, echoing like a bitter funeral chorus. I whined her name over and over. Burning her name in my mind. Scarring the onlookers that were family and friends. The mood in the room darkened and a fog thick enough to suffocate everyone. Sorrow even showed up very nicely in her finest red cocktail dress. My mom smiled wistfully and with a hoarse voice, she spoke to me.

"Leah, baby, I thought I would never see you again," she said with tears streaming down her face. Sadness danced with love in her eyes to a melancholy tune for the forsaken twenty-seven year old woman in front of her, I painfully acknowledged that woman as me. I broke down. Guilt washed over me and suddenly, there was too much oxygen and it became hard to breathe.

"I'm so sorry," I wailed, shaking my head, tears flying down my face, "mommy, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, please, I'm so sorry."

In the background, I could hear the faint noise of a chair scuffing the cheap white and blue tiles. I could see a figure approach me from my peripheral. I felt a strong, firm hand, grip my shoulder and I looked up to see my brother. My beautiful, baby brother. He gave me a small smile that didn't reach eyes that used to outshine the sun. I sniffled and rubbed my nose with the back of my hand. He held his hand out for me to take and I grasped it and let him pull me up. He nodded his head to the door, silently asking me to go out there with him. Stealing one last look at my mother, I lead the way outside the door and waited until Seth followed me out, waiting for the click of the door closing.

We stood there in an awkward silence. Six years of distant emails and shitty letters goes a long way. He looked so much older than twenty-two. He looked harden beyond his years, looking more of a man who just came from war, than a young man in the prime of his life. He was buffer. He didn't smile and he surely wasn't naïve little Seth anymore. I don't even know the stranger in front of me.

"Lee," he breathed before he lunged himself in my arms. His long arms encasing me in his warmth. I immediately hugged him with all the force I had. I buried my face in his chest and felt hot tears spurring down my face into his shirt. "I missed you, Leah," he said backing up out of the hug. I rubbed my face ridding the offending tears and nodded.

"I missed you, too, Sethy Poo," he scoffed.

"Stop calling me that," a pause, "ma missed you, too," another pause. A sigh. A scuff of his heel on the cheap tile floor. "Everyone on the res missed you. A lot has changed since you left. People aren't the same since you left." Not even me - words that went without saying.

"I'm sorry I left you. I would have taken you with me, but you didn't want to come and- and- and-" I stopped, "Why didn't you want to come? I would have taken care of you, you wouldn't have to live in this Hell hole."

"I know. " An awkward silence. "Mom isn't going to make it, the doctors said that the seizure was cause by blood clots in her brain. The stroke was too much for her to withstand."

"How much longer?" I asked softly.

"If she's lucky, tomorrow," he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. I ran my fingers through my hair for the second time today. I nodded, not fully comprehending, but understanding enough to know that my mom was dying by the second.

"Excuse me," we turned around and faced a middle-aged man with a white coat on, whom was clearly my mother's doctor. I looked at the blue, cursive embroidery above his left chest pocket that read: Dr. C. Cullen. He gave a friendly smile and held his hand out towards me. I took it and I firmly shook his hand. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Leah Clearwater, I'm her daughter," he nodded and smiled once again.

"Dr. Cullen. I understand that you two are Mrs. Clearwater's only family left?" Seth and I nodded and waited for the man to continue what he was saying. "Your mother is really frail for her age, we wanted to know that in case of an emergency, do you want us to try or do not resuscitate?" I clenched my jaw and fought back the tears that were screaming to be released. Seth easily slipped his hand into mine and squeezed. Silently letting me know that I'm not alone; that he and I are in this together. Seth looked to me, awaiting an answer.

"No," I whispered, hoarsely. Seth's hand shook slightly. Dr. Cullen leaned in a fraction with a frown on his face.

"I'm sorr-," I cut him off.

"No!" I yelled, opening the gate for the tears to fall. I brought a hand to my mouth and cried silently in my palm. I can't believe I said that. I can't believe I told the doctor don't bother to keep my mother alive. Let her die. But, I didn't want her to suffer the rest of her life. Dr. Cullen looked taken aback, looked at Seth who nodded, but solemnly acknowledged our wish. He gave a melancholy smile.

"I understand, Ms. Clearwater. These decisions are always hard to make." With that, he took his leave. And I turned back to the window and looked at my mother laying on the bed. Her eyes looked so dull, lifeless. She was already dead.

Just because you're breathing, don't mean you're alive.

I saw Seth as he moved to put a hand on my shoulder. He squeezed.

"Go get a cup of coffee or something. Calm your nerves. No one's going to resent you," he spoke, but his eyes were in the room. I followed his gaze and saw all the people in the small ICU room that came to see my mother off.

Billy Black slouched in his wheelchair, both he and the chair look like they've seen better days. Rachel and Paul - not too far from the old man incase he needed something - holding each others hand. Embry Call was in the corner; silently observing, a grim, somber expression etched on his face. He looked up and our eyes met through the rectangular glass window, his eyes were dark, dread flooded his eyes and overflowed in a cascading waterfall down his face. Wondering what wonders his eyes have seen in the six years I've been away. His gaze never faltering. I quickly looked away. I spotted Sam and my cousin Emily next to Paul and Rachel, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, rubbing her baby bump that was slowly protruding out in a nice perfect mound. I felt the knots constrict like a noose over my heart. I quickly looked away, but my eyes snaked back to where Sam rove his hand over her bump and kissed her cheek tenderly, lovingly.

The familiar stench of jealously and the welcoming pang of betrayal captured me in a warm casket. I choked up the unwanted feelings and diverted my attention to my mother's bed where a petite woman, no older than twenty-one with long black locks with streaks of brown through and through, stress lines marring her heart-shaped face that held the tiniest traces of sorrow. Even in the artificial lighting, her eyes managed to hold a slight sparkle in the pit, her tanned flesh was a darker hue than the majority in the room. I followed her fluid motions as she bent down to pick up a little girl - no older than seven - closer to my mother whom smiled fondly at the little girl who was now sitting indian style on the small single hospital bed. My mother smiled at her much like she does with Seth; like she used to do with me. The little girl had two pony tails perched on the side of her head with pink and white bows, reminding me much of myself when I was ripping and running around with a two-year old Seth right on my heels. The little girl was smiling ear to ear with an uncanny resemblance to the man to my left. Her hazel eyes glittered, the way only a Clearwater could and when she scuffed her heel on the edge of the bed, I gasped.

I looked to the man on my left, looking as his own hazel eyes glittered the way only a Clearwater could and when he scuffed his heel nonchalantly, I brought my hand to my mouth to muffle the screeching sob that was trying to rip through. I couldn't tear myself away as I watched my baby brother look at his little daughter - a daughter I never had the privilege of meeting for my own selfish reasons. He never tore his eyes away from his small little family of two. The little girl laughed at something her grandmother said; my mother. I watched, intently, as she kissed her grandmother on the forehead and pranced away from the bed taking her mother's hand in her own and sat down in the chair adjacent to the bed.

"Her name is Aleah Carmen Clearwater. Born December 1, 2012, I couldn't go with you because Carmen was two months pregnant. I couldn't leave my family. I named her Aleah because I didn't know if I would see you again, so I felt as though both of us could always have a part of you, even if it was just a part of your name." He rubbed the back of his elbow and scuffed his heel. "I was scared. I was sixteen, I didn't know how to be a dad, I could barely cook and do laundry, much less take care of a kid, y'know? I wanted to come, go with you, and leave everything, Carmen, Aleah. But, when Carmen pushed Aleah out and I met my daughter for the very first time. I knew that I could never leave her side.

"She had already had me wrapped around her little fingers. I'm sorry I never told you. I should have. It was rough, the first two years. Being sixteen, seventeen years old and taking care of a kid. Who'd ever heard of a kid taking care of a kid. I had to drop out of school to support the three of us. Mom couldn't do it, she barely had enough money to take care of her and the house. It was hard. I grew up too fast. I feel like a thirty year old man in a twenty-one year old's body," he finished, giving me a weary smile. I couldn't help but to feel guilty at my brother's short comings. And even as he confessed to me, I still didn't know the stranger to my left. I didn't know if it was a warning or a sign.

He was staring so intently at his daughter, watching as she scuffed her heels on the floor periodically. He watched the mother of his child interact with her daughter, although the signs of stress were evident, she didn't let it show in front of her daughter.

There was a loud beeping coming from inside the room and I panicked. I ran into the room. I stopped before I reached the bed. And I watched the horrific scene before me. I watched, immobile as my mother flatlined. My eyes enlarged. I was in shock. Everything moved in slow motion. I watched as Aleah screamed and was rushed out of the room by her mother; Carmen. Billy Black sat straight as a board in his chair and tears instantly flooded his eyes. I saw the nurses come in and unplug the life support. Emily sobbing in the crook of Sam's neck. Dr. Cullen running in and trying to console a discombobulated Seth. It was chaos. I watched as Emily shouted at Dr. Cullen to help bring her back. Rachel trying to keep her own tears at bay and console her father for losing, yet, another one of his closet friends. I was mute. I was stuck; rooted to the floor.

And then it sank; my stomach. I felt it. I felt the loss of losing my mother. I screamed and pulled my hair. My mom, my beautiful mother was no longer here. It's crazy to think that she was just breathing five minutes ago. Her body was here, but she wasn't. It was unfathomable to think of. I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried. It was as if my life was flashing before my eyes like a drive-in movie. I couldn't stop the onslaught of misery that filled my lungs, my brain, my stomach, my heart. I backed up until I was met with the cool surface of the wall and slid ungracefully.

I brought my knees to my chest and I wallowed in my misery in the corner of the room. Watching the chaos. I looked up at the ceiling, searching for God. I prayed for the very first time.

But, the sky was empty.

"Even death has a heart."

Markus Zusak

I sat in the furthest corner of the hospital's meditation room staring at the wooden cross perched on the wall. I felt numb. My eyes stung from crying too much and my cheeks were puffy from excessively scrubbing the tears away. I heard the door creak open and I heard the heavy footsteps of someone approaching. I didn't bother to acknowledge them. They stopped before me. I could see a hint of their black shoes from the corner of my eye. The person slid down next to me and he didn't have to say a word. I already knew who he was. His musky, earthy scent engulfed me. Made a warm cot to lay my tired body on and inhale him. I wanted to fall into a sea of him. Burn my lungs, just once more.

Some part of me wonders what could have been, given another chance. But a small nagging in the back of my mind taunts me.

It would have ended the same way. We were doomed from the beginning.

There was too much oxygen.

He didn't say anything, but his presence was overpowering. He laid his head against the wall and sighed. His hot breath melting the atmosphere, filling it with his essence. We sat in silence, the dead language of two former lovers. He turned his head so he was facing me. I could feel his stare piercing through me. Burning holes in my body, making my skin crawl with a mixed sensation of satisfaction and uncomfortableness.

Jacob crossed his arms over his chest and I couldn't help to wonder what he does with his arms now that they aren't around me. What did he do with the empty space between he and I? Staring off, Jacob shifted beside me and spoke a soft tone, soft enough for me to hear, but not loud enough to disturb the silence.

"Do you ever think about death?" I turned to him. I watched his every move. Watched as he continued to stare off into space. The way his eyelashes batted.. The twitch of his jaw. The way his fingers rubbed against each other, the undeniable search for something in his hollow eyes. I sighed. I turned back to stare at the cross. How wonderful it would be to lie down and just sleep with beautiful green grass above your head and flowers to decorate your bed. Who would turn that down? What's the point of living if we're all going to die in the end? Living just to die. How pitiful. What a waste of space.

"All I know is, that to die, would be an awfully big adventure."

"...It's human nature broken down to its bare bones, no bull, just rock bottom honest feelings and desire. No trying to be nice, shy, or respectable, it's all about the 'evil' thing inside of us that is really not evil all, it's just there and always be inside of us all."

Vic Fuentes

Author's Note: Well, there you have it! The very first chapter of Europa. I hope it was semi enjoyable and you got to see a few things. I hope it was to your liking. Chapters will probably be every two weeks, since it's my senior year and I'm going back to school pretty soon, but the entire story is planned out. It just needs to be written.

Again, I hope you liked it. (: .