Hey guys! This is my first fan-fic, so don't be too hard on me! This is about Leah Clearwater and Jacob Black, who Stephenie Meyer kept hinting would get together. I personally love this couple and am part an RPG site where the two will end up together, so I decided to turn the plot ideas there into a story. I'm planning to turn this into a story with more than one chapter, and will be switching who's point of view it's written in each time I update. This is going to be a story of friendship, pain and suffering, seeing someone in a new light, and ultimately (eventually), falling in love.
Chapter 1: The Beginning (Leah's PoV)
The sun was slowly setting, casting a warm glow over La Push, Washington that the Quileute reservation hardly ever got to see. When you lived in a place that was under a near constant cover of clouds and rain you learned to appreciate times like this that much more and got to see a different side of La Push that very few really ever thought about. But, when one took the time to think about it, it made life seem more beautiful and simple, or at least that's how it felt for me. My name is Leah Clearwater, and I have lived on the Quileute reservation my entire life so I can tell you better than anyone how truly beautiful this place is once you can get past all of the rain.
Today was one of those rare days when the sun overpowered the dark clouds that usually populated the sky, and had graced us with its presence. I had woken up to the warm rays shining into my room through my open blinds, shielding my eyes from the unexpected glow. It figured, the one night that I didn't shut my blinds before going to bed, the sun decided to show up and give us a break from all the rain. Once my eyes had basically adjusted, at least enough so I wasn't blinded, I stumbled out of bed and headed down to the kitchen to see my mother before heading out for a run. It had been part of my morning ritual even before I could remember and was something my father and I used to do together before he died. He was always on this kick about health, which was ironic considering the fact that he had high cholesterol which had caused the heart attack that killed him only a few weeks ago. It hurts to think about, since my mother never knew about it, and was under the impression that he was extremely healthy. Whenever my mother thought about it now she locked herself in her room, and if Seth or I ever walked by her door we'd hear her crying. It seemed to be part of her nightly routine, and we always found ourselves at a loss for what to do to help her.
That was how this morning was, and I knew exactly where she was when I walked into the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge and she wasn't there to say good morning to me. Sighing, I decided to get myself out of the house as quickly, if only to escape the depressing atmosphere that my mother's pain surrounded the house with. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying my mother's grieving was a bad thing since everyone has a right too after suffering such a loss, but it made it hard for me to stay strong for her when I could hear her sobs echoing through the house. Plus, being there these days made me think of my father, and that in itself got me started with the tears and caused me to lose focus on everything else in my life that needed my attention, like the pack. So, I snatched the water bottle I had come for from the fridge, pulled on my running shoes and headed out the door. My destination was First Beach, the one place that felt like a sanctuary to me, the one place I was free to think for myself and let my own pain and tears surface.
As I drove, I couldn't help but feel mystified and confused, not exactly sure what to think. The shattering of my once perfect world was something I had not been expecting any time soon, and to have it happen now the way it had was not sitting well with me at all; it wouldn't sit well with anyone who was in my current situation. It was a new experience for me to feel so horribly broken, and I wasn't sure if my heart could ever be whole again. When Sam had walked out my front door so many years ago and never turned around, he had taken a piece of my heart along with him, a piece that I was never going to get back, and that was going to leave a permanent hole. Now, that same thing had happened with my father's death, and I could feel the hole getting bigger, ripping my heart apart and making me feel like it would never heal. I hadn't had much time to grieve since I'd been catering to pack duties, and my thoughts were being constantly haunted by memories of my father, which was a lot worse than the pack having to hear my depressing thoughts about Sam. It was hard for me to try going back to the person I used to be when my thoughts were always so upsetting and depressing, and I was at the point where I was honestly considering giving up. My desire to be the girl I used to be before everything had started going down hill for me was apparently not part of my destiny however, or so I was really starting to believe. Two weeks ago, I had been waiting for a friend to pick me up to go to a movie and what I had gotten instead was a whole new form and a dead father.
As I arrived at the beach with these thoughts circling through my mind, I walked towards a piece of driftwood stranded on the beach, collapsed onto it, and kept my eyes focused on the sandy ground beneath me, not bothering to wipe away the flood of tears that had randomly decided to flow. It had been so long since I had cried, and it seemed like my tear ducts were making up for lost time now. I was doing my best to keep my sobbing under control but the feat was proving to be harder than I thought. At least for the time being, however, they were low enough that the gently crashing of the waves onto the shore could cover the sound from being overheard from a far distance. It would be a problem, however, if someone happened to be walking within a close proximity of me. Luckily, because of the hour, the beach and surrounding area were quiet. At least I was free to wallow in my heartache without being forced to explain what was wrong. When it came time for me to go home, however, that was going to change. Even if my face was dry, I would not be able to hide the fact that I was upset from my mother or brother.
Picking up a rock, I threw it into the water with as much force as I could muster. The gentle splash it made as it hit the water and sank made me feel a bit better and I was surprised to find that it was enough to cease my tears. The sand beneath me was soaked by now, but it wouldn't continue to be now that I had wiped away my tears. Now, anger and annoyance with my ancestors replaced my sadness and I let my anger run freely as I threw another rock into the water, watching as it skipped a few times across the surface before finally sinking to the bottom, never to be seen again. Then, pushing my long, dark curls out of my face, I shifted into a more comfortable position on the piece of driftwood I was sitting on and watched the waves crash gently onto the shore.