Hello and welcome to a new story! This is an idea that's been dancing around in my head for the past little while, so I figured I may as well attempt to get it out. Those of you who read my other stories know I'm not the most regular for updating, but I'll do my best. I'm also not 100% sure of the plot - I know how I want to start and how I want to end, but the in between-bits are still a little up in the air.

I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, shocked by the brightness that lay beyond my lids. Had the sun always been so bright? I searched my memories for any understand and found nothing but a blank slate. Eyes still closed, I frantically searched my mind, which seemed far too vast, for any memories of the sun, and then any memories at all, feeling my breath quicken when I found nothing.

What was this?

Slowly, I opened my eyes once more, squinting until my pupils adjusted to the brightness of the world and carefully cataloguing my surroundings. I was in a forest (the realization that I understood what my location was was oddly comforting – I had not been struck completely dumb, simply unable to retrieve any of my memories) and it was quite obviously day time. Pollen and minuscule particles floated lightly in the barely-there breeze, twisting and turning in a beautifully simple dance that had me entranced. The blue sky was visible through the tree branches, ornately decorated with every sort of leaf I could imagine, in varying shades of green. I took a moment to marvel at the contrasting colours – the blue sky, the green leaves, the rich, brown branches – and shifted my head, feeling my hair catch on fallen debris and tangle with the dirt below it.

I sat up, the movement feeling unnaturally fast, drawing my hair away from the mess but feeling the added weight of what had stuck to it. I ran my fingers through the knotted mess and felt the debris fall away, heard it gently hit the ground behind me. From this new position, I could see where the thick trunks of the trees met the ground, the roots digging deep into the soil to reach the nutrients the tree needed to survive.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with what I could smell. The dirt smelled rich and damp, and, in a moment of curiosity, I dug my fingers into the ground, feeling the soil give way under my fingers as I was met with the damp, cool texture of the dirt that hadn't been touched by sunlight. I looked around carefully, realizing that I seemed to be in a relatively densely forested area. Surely, this was unusual? What could I have been doing here?

As I pondered this question, the sun inched towards the west, and the shadows of the trees and leaves shifted slightly. The slight movement was all it took for direct sunlight to kiss the bare skin of my forearm, and my eyes widened in shock when it began to shine, sparkling like a million diamonds reflecting a single source of light in every direction. I stared at my own skin, mesmerized, and slowly twisted and moved my arm, watching every inch of my skin shine brightly.

Movement caught my attention – the dry, fallen leaves cracked under new weight, and the ground reverberated under light footsteps. I wrinkled my nose and shook my head as a new scent made itself known, one I immediately associated with a wet dog. The rustle of leaves made me turn my head, and I found myself face to face with the largest dog I had ever seen in my life (I assumed).

Dog seemed to be the wrong word.

Wolf, my mind whispered helpfully.

Yes, this was definitely a wolf, I thought to myself, though as I looked on with wide eyes, the the size seemed more horse-like than wolf-like. Its fur was black and dense, its muscles tensed, and its ears pressed flat to its skull, the very image of an angry animal.

The creature pulled its lips back to reveal large, threatening teeth, snarling at me as it watched my closely through narrowed and angry in eyes.

In an instant, I was standing and several feet back from my original position, crouched defensively, but the creature came no closer, simply watching me tensely as a low growl continuous rumbled out of its throat.

I watched, completely still, as more wolves stepped out of the trees and flanked the first, though none were quite as large. Each wore a threatening snarl and watched me with undisguised hatred, and I swallowed fearfully.

"Bella?"

My head swung towards the voice, and I found myself looking at a tall, muscular man, several inches taller than me, his defined, dark-skinned chest bare. In the back of my mind, I catalogued that this man's skin did not reflect sunlight as mine did, and left that for further examination at a later date.

If I lived that long.

"Bella?" The man said again, watching me cautiously, his limbs trembling slightly.

I cocked my head. Bella. Was I Bella?

"Bella, can you sit down, please?" He asked, keeping his distance from me, his arms reaching out, palms up.

Absolutely not. I meaningfully looked over each of the wolves, which were still watching me closely, and then back to the man. I was no fool. If I sat, I was vulnerable, but on my feet, perhaps I stood a chance. At the very least, a chance at running away.

"They won't hurt you if you sit down, Bella," the man promised, his voice soothing and quiet. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that several of the wolves shot him what seemed to be dirty looks, but there was no argument or indication otherwise, and I wondered if perhaps listening to this man, who seemed to control the enormous beasts, was my best chance at survival.

Slowly, keeping my eyes locked on the man, I bent my knees, sitting on the cool forest floor with my knees bent and my feet flat on the ground, in case I needed to stand quickly.

"Thank you," I heard some relief in the man's voice. I watched tensely as he took two small steps forward, his hands still up. "Do you know me, Bella?" He asked gently, watching me intensely with dark brown eyes.

Hesitantly and very, very slowly, I shook my head, not looking away. His face seemed to fall a little at the answer, but he didn't seem discouraged. "Do you remember what happened?" He asked.

Again, I shook my head.

"Shit," he muttered, swallowing thickly. He seemed to steel himself before asking the next question. "Do you know what you are?"

I didn't even know who I was, but again, I answered with a slow shake of my head.

"Shit, shit, shit," the man said again, running his hand through his short, black hair. "I don't know how to do this," he said quietly, obviously talking to himself, even though his voice made its way to my ears.

"You could start by telling me who I am?" I suggested quietly, speaking for the first time since I'd woken up. My voice sounded unfamiliar to my own ears, melodic and chiming in a way that somehow, I felt it hadn't always been. "And who you are?"

The man and the wolves seemed to wince at my voice, and, in the back of my mind, I wondered why, but I was much more concerned about who I was.

"I'm Jacob," he said simply. "You're Bella. We ar-were friends."

"Bella. Bella." I tested my name on my tongue. It certainly felt right and familiar. "Were friends?" I repeated, confused.

The man – Jacob – sighed. "We grew up together. We used to make mud pies when were were little," he explained, a faint smile on his lips.

Mud pies seemed like a strange concept. Surely that would taste horrid? But I didn't question it, instead focusing on his previous statement. "But we're not friends now?" I pressed, wishing I could remember.

"I don't know," Jacob said, his expression tired as he gazed at me, hurt written across his dark features.

"Why?" I continued to question, feeling like a toddler but too desperate for answers to care.

He shook his head, a bead of sweat visible along his hairline, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. That wasn't normal, was it, I shouldn't be able to hear his heart. Not without pressing my ear against his chest and feeling the thunderous vibrations.

But I could. In fact, I could hear the heartbeats of each of the wolves that seemed to watch his back, and feel the vibrations down to my very core as though they were travelling through the ground and up my legs and into my own chest, where there was curiously no heartbeat.

"What I am…and what you are…we're not meant to be friends," Jacob explained cryptically.

"And what is that?" I asked, my voice small and slightly frightened, because if we couldn't be friends simply because of what I was and what he was then surely what I was couldn't be very good at all, could it? After all, we'd been friends before, so what he was certainly hadn't been a problem before now, meaning that it was what I was that was the problem. And it probably also meant that his dislike for whatever I was was probably based in something because we'd obviously been close before and though I could see that he was torn and still wanted to be my friend something was telling him that he couldn't and –

"You're a vampire, Bella."

Vampire. Vampire. Vampire.

I swallowed thickly. I wanted to argue, to laugh in his face and tell him he was being ridiculous, that vampires were nothing but stories and I wanted to yell at him to stop lying, to tell me what was really going on, because underneath the need to laugh and scream I was also terribly frightened, and my confusion at being able to feel all of this at once was tucked away into yet another part of my brain to examine later, because though I wanted to laugh and yell and argue, vampire felt distinctly right in a way that I couldn't explain.

I was a vampire.

Vampire, vampire, vampire.

Murderer.

Killer.

Monster.

Vampire, vampire, vampire.

Kindly review and let me know what you thought. I'm always open to constructive criticisms, ideas, suggestions, or just passing comments. Reviews are definitely incentive to write more.