Ohhhh, the ideas one gets while taking the PSAT...at least my ramblings finally turned into something nice.

Stephanie Meyer owns the universe.

…...

No matter how many windows I opened, I couldn't get the smell of mothballs out of the house. The old Victorian was crowded with ancient wardrobes full of dusty coats and fading dresses that hadn't been touched in years. The winding, narrow hallways were dark and colored with prismatic dust, lit dimly by the light that filtered in through the filth-covered windows. Every floorboard creaked out a separate note of the house's worn-out song, punctuated every now and then by the sigh of the walls as the hourly bus barreled past towards the stop on the corner.

I had only been in the house once before, when my mother was in the process of leaving Charlie. Of course, that was back when my grandmother was still alive and San Francisco was a viable drop-off spot for the three-year-old me as my mother made frequent trips back and forth from Phoenix to Forks. I remember my one and only stay, a three-week-long affair during which Renee officially split from Charlie (elapsed time: 4 hours) and, as a result, set off for an impromptu European vacation (elapsed time: remaining 500 hours). The thing that I most remember about that time was the fact that my grandmother was almost never there. Of all the things I remember about that trip-playing in the attic, searching for the secret passageway that my mother had sworn existed (not true, apparently), playing dress-up among the seas of old clothing-none of them include my grandmother. Nana, as I called her, had been strangely absent that entire time, though I really hadn't found it strange before returning here again.

I'd returned to San Francisco with my mother following a call from Mr. Abrams, Nana's next door neighbor, saying that he hadn't seen Nana in almost a week. He had wanted to know if we had heard from her, to which my mother responded with a truthful "no". As soon as she hung up with Abrams, Renee dialed Nana's ancient telephone. When there was no answer, she jumped to the computer. Within minutes, we had plane tickets booked for early the next morning.

While we knew her death was coming, it was still a surprise when we arrived at Gallagher House, the name of Nana's Victorian in the heart of the Painted Lady district, to find her so peacefully tucked in her bed. It looked almost as if she had planned it. I've never been one for blood, gore, or death, but this was different. I wasn't particularly bothered by the image of Nana in her bed, mostly because she was so...beautiful, so wholly at peace, that seeing her there was more of an assurance that she was happier wherever she was than a reminder that she had left us forever.

And so began the collection. In the days following, Renee, a couple of friends she knew from high school that still lived in the area, and myself all began sorting through the eclectic mix of material goods that had accumulated over the more than seventy years Nana had lived in the first couple of days were the most productive, but as time went on, mom's friends had more important things to do and our workforce began to dwindle.

"Bella, honey," Renee had said to me on the fourth night, "Phil is coming up tomorrow to check in on us, and he thinks that what I really need is to get out of here for a little while." As much as I hated to admit it, seeing how much work needed to be done, I knew what she was talking about. While I barely knew Nana at all, Renee had always been especially close with her. They hadn't visited face-to-face in a few months, but every day when I'd get home from school, they were always talking on the phone, even though it meant Renee would have to yell into the receiver to ensure that Nana could hear. It would be nice to get out of the house for a while. I allowed myself to relax then, knowing that in just a little while I'd be surrounded by the incessant culture-shock that I'd been missing since leaving Phoenix...

And with that, she was gone. When I awoke the following morning, there was a note taped to the door of my makeshift bedroom which read only "Phil and I are going to LA for a couple of days. Food and money in the kitchen. Call when I get there 3". I wanted to scream in frustration. I'd been under the impression that I would be escaping back into the real world with them, not getting left behind in the enormous, dark, settling mass that was Gallagher House. I wanted to throw things, break things. I wanted to tear the original portrait of my great-grandfather off of the wall and throw it out the window. I wanted to tear the handmade lace curtains off of the rod and burn them. I wanted out. However, as counter-intuitive as it might seem, I went deeper in. Inexplicably, I climbed the two flights of stairs from the ground floor to where Nana's room had been and swung open the door. I did so more aggressively than I probably should have. The loud bang of the door hitting the wall made me feel like I was desecrating some holy temple. There was another shorter set of stairs in the back of the bedroom that led up to a small, odd sitting room perched between the two adjacent floors. Back when I had been here so long ago, the door to that sitting room had been the only one locked. When Renee and I had arrived to find Nana lifeless in her bed, it was the only door in the entire house that had been left open.

Throughout the long days that Renee and I had spent here, one thing dominated my thoughts. I really had no idea who my own grandmother was. I knew that she came from a well respected family in the Bay Area and married young, but that didn't last. She had moved to New York with her husband, but moved back into her childhood home when the marriage ended. She married again later in her life to Renee's father, but was met with his death just a couple of years after Renee was born. Since then...I didn't really have any idea. And even though I knew her life history, I still had no idea who she was as a person. All I wanted out of the in-between room was the beginning of an answer.
Itching with curiosity, I took the six steep steps two at a time. The regal looking mahogany door swung gently inwards to reveal a surprisingly tidy room containing just a highbacked chair and a writing desk. The walls of the tiny room were a powdered peach color and filled the room with a warm glow. I entered slowly, wanting almost to keep from disturbing the restful state of the room. I sat softly on the very edge of the embroidered chair, resting my hands on the dark plane of the desktop as if examining its smoothness. The desk was strangely bare, especially in contrast to the clutter which had consumed the rest of the house. There was one long drawer along the front of the desk, carved into an intricate scroll along the edges. I carefully ran my hands along the carving before gently gripping the handle and pulling. It opened much easier than I had anticipated.

My heart was thrumming in my chest and my entire body buzzed with excitement. Perhaps here was the insight that might give me a real look at who Nana had actually been. A diary, a book of letters, anything. Anything could be in that drawer.

Anything...like a single, unaddressed envelope. My heart sank. The wealth of knowledge I'd been hoping for wasn't here. I sighed quietly as I lifted the envelope from the drawer. Why not, I thought. And I opened it.

Dearest Alice,

The time has come. I know we have discussed this at length before, and that you are wholeheartedly against it. However, love, you must think. What would you do if presented with this opportunity? I think we both know the answer to that.

I have seen all that I care to see, and far beyond. Can you imagine what it is to live forever? I cannot, and neither can you. I know you put on the happy face for Jasper and the rest of your family, but you're as scared of forever as any mortal is and should be. We all are. Some just do a better job of hiding it.

You may think that I'm taking the easy way out, that I am for some reason not worthy of this choice that I have so luckily been provided with. You are entirely right. I won the power to cheat death in an unfair fight, and I used it time and time again. Must I not pay the price? Of course. It is not a question of if, but instead where and when.I came to terms with that long ago, and the sooner you do the same, the better off you'll be.

So here I go, dear Alice, off into that great unknown. I anticipate being made to pay my debts on the other side of death, but really, what's the difference between paying them for an eternity among the dead versus doing the same among the living?

The ring is in the back of the drawer. Please destroy it.

All my love,

Artemis

I stared for a long time at the neat script of theletter, utterly and completely confused by its content. Alice? Who was Alice? And living forever? And...Artemis? My grandmother's name was Adelle. I had never met an "Artemis" in my life. My mind twirled, searching for answers.I looked back to the very end of the letter- "The ring is in the back of the drawer." My eyes flew to the seemingly empty bottom of the drawer. Curiously, I reached my hand back into the dark, recessed corners that I couldn't see. And then I found it: A small, simple wooden box, dull in color and finish but worn smooth with age. I couldn't resist lifting the lid off and setting it back on the table. Inside the box lay a slender silver band, not remarkable in any way. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands, immediately noticing the fact that it was significantly colder than anything else in the room. There were symbols that were barely discernible anymore etched into the surface of the band, and beside the fact that the lettering seemed to have worn off, the ring itself was in incredibly good condition. Even in the soft, pink-ish light, the silver surface gleamed. Really, despite its simplicity, it was beautiful.

I slipped it over my finger and felt a chill run down my spine. My mind began turning, thinking faster and faster with no particular subject in mind. I looked frantically around the room as my heartbeat picked up even faster. I was looking for something, but I didn't know what it was. Looking, looking, looking...

And suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Before I could move to answer it, I heard it squeak open.

"Bella?" someone called. Her voice sounded like music. "It's Alice. May I come up?"

…...

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~Zell