A/N: I was in a writing mood today but didn't feel like updating anything. So this one shot is the result. I owe the inspiration to Jennalynne. Go check out her stories if you're looking for something good to read. Seriously, you won't regret it.

My room looked pitifully empty. Not that it had ever been very cluttered or full in the first place. I had never been one to gather useless piles of junk or fill my dresser tops with pointless collectables. But now with every necessary item I owned packed tightly into two manageable suitcases, my room appeared even emptier and more forlorn than ever.

The walls were painted the same pale pink they had always been, though only the faint edge of where the ballerina border had once rested could now been seen. It was a tribute to my dancing days, so many years ago, before I had realized that I did not possess the natural grace and lithe form that a dancer needed.

I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat as I realized how many memories this tiny room held. Though I had been born in Forks, and it was to there I was ultimately returning, Phoenix would always be my home.

"Bella, love, are you alright?"

My mother's voice startled me. I turned to see her standing in the doorway. I only nodded, afraid that my threatening tears would spill over if I dared to speak.

"You know, you don't have to do this, honey," she repeated the words for the hundredth time. She crossed the room to wrap her arms around my quivering form.

I bit my lip, but the tears ensued nonetheless. "I know, Mom." The words came out in a strangled sob. "I know."

I expected her to continue to plead with me, but she only sighed heavily. "Bella, you're a strong girl. Much stronger than I am. And I'll always love you, no matter where you go and the choices you make. Never forget that."

Another muffled sob escaped my lips as I buried my face in her neck, as I had done so many times for much more trivial reasons in the past. "I know, Mom," I managed to whisper. "And I'll always love you, too."

She held me for a moment longer, wiping away the tears that spilled down my cheeks.

Finally, it was I who pulled away.

"Thanks, Mom," I whispered, my voice much steadier than it had been only moments before. "I'm going to go for a walk before bed if you don't mind."

"Not at all." She managed a weak smile. She knew this would be my last chance to say goodbye to everything I loved.

The night air was pleasantly cool, slightly dusty and dry, smelling faintly of the desert. The street was silent with only the blare of a few television scattered about to disrupt the peaceful night.

I reached the end of the street and gazed into the surrounding desert. Though Arizona had more endless landscape than flora and fauna, there was a certain aspect of life I felt when I gazed upon the large buttes and mesas and each sculpted contour and crevice of the desert. It was as though some ancient force, a mystical energy, emanated from these surreal carvings of nature. The beauty of this mysterious barren wasteland was something you had to experience to truly appreciate.

The thing I loved most, though, was clear, immense sky. From my brief visits to Forks, I knew the sky remained heavily clouded for about ninety-nine percent of the year. But in Phoenix, I could easily count the days we got rain. In the day, I loved to gaze upon dome of pastel blue sky, with barely even a cloud in sight. The fiery sun would blare mercilessly against the parched ground. I loved the blazing warmth and light it offered; I knew it would be one of the things I would sorely miss.

Though beautiful in a different way, the sky was like another world once the sun disappeared over the crest of the horizon, allowing darkness to encroach. Tonight, I stared up into the celestial dome, viewing the myriads of stars dotting the heavens. I picked out the few constellations I was familiar with, the Big Dipper, Orion the hunter, Cassiopeia. And though I new I would not be able to see them most nights once in Forks, it gave me comfort to know they would still be shining above me.

After gazing at the wondrous sky one last time, I sighed heavily as I began to slowly amble back toward my house.

"Goodnight, Mom," I told her, after entering the house. My flight left early tomorrow morning, so I knew it was in my best interest to get some sleep.

Once snuggled beneath the thin sheets of my bed, I couldn't sleep. If you have ever moved, then you know that it is impossible to sleep during your final night. Even though I was in the same familiar room I had slept in for years, it somehow felt eerie and different, like it now belonged to someone else. For hours, I tossed and turned and switched between staring out the window and at the faded paint on my ceiling.

Finally, being able to bear it no longer, I tiptoed down the hallway and entered my mother's bedroom. Phil had left for Florida a few days prior, so my mother had the vast queen sized bed to herself. Feeling more like a five-year-old than seventeen-year-old, I crawled under the covers next to my mother. She murmured something unintelligible but didn't wake.

I smiled faintly, snuggling up against her, pushing away all thoughts of fear and anxiety, finally allowing sleep to claim me.