Welcome curious readers, this is my first Twilight fiction and I hope you all enjoy! Please feel free to leave a review good or bad and tell me if you want to see more! Without further ado, on with the story!
Rated M: For language/adult content
Disclaimer: All characters from the Twilight Saga belong to Stephanie Meyer.
Chapter 1: Introducing
" All photographs are accurate. None of them is the truth." -Richard Avedon
" Achooo!"
" Aw shit." I murmured, swiping my sleeved forearm under my nose.
The rain pounded mercilessly against me, soaking my five-foot-one frame thoroughly. Hitching my duffel bag higher on my shoulder, I looked back at the passengers piling from the bus I took from Olympia. Most of the passengers shuffled into the small airport, some where greeted by small groups of family. I tried not to focus on the way they embraced each other, before seeking refuge in their cars. Giving another sniff, I made my way down a small path surrounded by towering green trees. Soon coming to a highway, I watched as a large truck tugged down the solitary road. I eyed the cluster of small buildings across the way. Jogging across the road I approached the buildings in hopes of finding a cheap motel for the night. Noticing two tall statues of lumberjacks holding a large saw, over a tree stump. Accompanied by bold white letters painted on the saw that read 'Forks Timber Museum.'
' A timber museum?'I thought incredulously. ' What the hell kind of town is this?'
'Well, it is named after a utensil.' I let out a small smile at the the afterthought.
The small smile soon disappeared as I found that the only other two buildings where the 'Olympia Natural Resource Center' and 'Forks Chamber of Commerce.' I groaned in defeat as I sought refuge beneath porch covered steps, pulling out a large map of the west coast. I fumbled with it for a moment before finding my position on the 101-highway. I soon found that the closest local motel was located about a mile or so up the road. Stuffing the map back in my duffel bag I reached for a different possession, pulling out my Nikon Cool-pix P90, my baby. She took me six months of saving and working five different odd jobs on top of minimum wage (minus living expenses) to save up for. Pushing my wet, brown bangs from my eyes I powered her up and brought her to my eye. I focused on the picture presented in front of me as I kneel down, getting a different angle as I watched the rain blend into greens and browns. After a few snaps of the shutter, satisfied with my choices, I placed her back in her water-proof case and into my duffel bag.
I hugged my sweater closer to me in hopes of warmth as I started down the empty highway. I reached into my jeans and pulled out a lime green Ipod Nano. Which until recently had belonged to an unsuspecting stoned teenager, getting high at a park back in Reno. I'd save up for my own but it's not as though I have a laptop ready for use, and I don't plan on staying long enough in one place to obtain one. Not until I reach my destination anyways, which isn't too far off. Plus, the stoner had pretty good taste in music. Music blared in my ears as I let my feet carry me down the seemingly never-ending highway, not much to look at for the journey. Occasionally I would pass an abandoned car, a diner, sheds for sale scattered to the side of the road. Other than that I was surrounded by green grass, green trees, and telephone polls all accompanied by rain that didn't show any signs of letting up.
The sun had already start to set by the time that I made it to the motel. The brown sign in front of it introduced the lodging as Bagby's Motel. Also stating that it supplied free wi-fi (useless in my case) and guest laundry (not so useless). I walked beneath the white trellis that welcomed travelers to the front desk as I entered the establishment. It had a pungent smell of the sort of refresher put in used cars. Not so surprising as I observed the peeling out-dated wall paper. I then took in a older woman sitting behind crowded desk. She didn't seem to hear my approach as she focused all of her attention on a tabloid, it's cover featuring Brad and Angelina's latest scuffle. Yanking my headphones away, I cleared my throat as she reluctantly put down the magazine, removing her glasses.
" How may I help you?" She answered in a warm tone, fixing a few documents before her.
When her eyes finally met me, they widened as she observed my sodden appearance.
" My dear, your soaked!"
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the obvious statement.
" It's raining." I declared flatly.
" Oh, well yes." She agreed, a smile replacing her shocked expression. " Do you need a room for you and your parents?"
" Just me." I answered, pulling out my wallet.
I gave an internal sigh at the onslaught of questions that I was sure to answer. The woman had that face, the face that I was greeted with every time I asked for a single room. Then again my damning height and soft features always gave people the impression I was sixteen or so. Which is pretty humiliating for and eighteen-year-old, rapidly approaching her ninteenth birthday.
" Meeting family here?" She asked, in what seemed a hopeful tone.
' If I was, would I be staying in this dump?' I thought with a stifled frown.
" Nope." I pulled out a few bills and my identification.
" Oh, well are you vacationing?" She pressed, unsatisfied with my short answers.
' To Forks fucking Washington? Pffffht.'
" Just passing through." I replied with a tight smile. " How much for one night?"
She gave me the price, which was unsurprisingly cheap, and I handed her the appropriate amount. Before she made any move to take the money, she asked to see my I.D. I had prepared for it though, I know that when you pay for a room in cash the last thing a motel needed to see was I.D. More often than not I found myself being asked to show mine. Whether to assure them of my age or check weather I was a runaway, I didn't really know. I didn't really care either. In the end they always took the money.
I slid over my I.D. while she repositioned her reading glasses, which were hanging around her neck on a beaded necklace. She narrowed her eyes and brought the it closer to her face, I guessed she was looking at my age. Her eyes shifted to my picture as she glanced between me and the picture a few times.
" A.J.?" She tested.
" That's me." I nodded in response.
Once satisfied with it's authenticity she passed it back to me, joined with a room key, a large tag with the number three printed across it. I palmed the key before sliding back my I.D. into my wallet with my change. I gave her a nod of thanks, reaching for my duffel bag.
" A.J., that's a pretty interesting first name. What does it stand for?" The receptionist questioned, the smile never leaving her wrinkled face.
I ignored the question as I busied myself with hoisting the overweight bag over my shoulder.
" So your from California?" She pressed.
I nodded in confirmation, silently praying she would leave me be.
" Not much of a talker, are you hun?" She stated with a light chuckle, seeming to pick up my internal message.
" Not really." I answered, the corner of my mouth tugging into an apologetic smile.
" We have a beach here, you know." She continued. " Well, technically it's not here in Forks. It's on the Quileute Reservation, La Push, just a few miles from here. The beach is actually quite beautiful, if your looking for familiar scenery. Although, without the bikinis and warm sun."
This brought another chuckle from the woman as I let out a short hum of agreement. A cloudy beach sounded like a quite alluring place to take a few photos. I wondered if the sea would have different shades of blue here, or would most likely mirror the grey of the clouds. I could even find a cabin if I chose so, and I heard things weren't as expensive on a reservation. My musings were interrupted by a rather large sneeze on my part, I quickly reached for available tissue on the desk. Once making sure my nose was clear of phlegm I looked up into the concerned blue eyes of the receptionists.
" Here," She reached for something beneath the desk. " I happen to have some Theraflue here with me. Would you like a packet? There's a coffee maker available in the room."
" I'm fine, really-"
" It would give an old lady some piece of mind." She continued, holding the small packet in her outstretched hand.
From her determined face, I figured she wouldn't stop pestering me until I take the damn thing.
" Thanks." I mumbled, grabbing it with the tips of my fingers.
The kind stranger smiled and dipped her head before returning to her tabloid. I was thankful for her thoughtfulness as I stepped out into the freezing night air. Although some would see my attitude as stand off-ish or rude, I don't mean anything by it, it's just how I am. A city girl I suppose. I'm not quite used to the polite hospitality that smaller towns have, and of top of that I'm not used to talking to strangers besides essential conversation. I'm terrible at small talk. Unless I'm trying to land a job I usually don't entertain it. Though the opportunity never really presents itself, seeing as I hate large crowds. Which was why after my Nana passed last year, shortly before my high school graduation, I was determined to get out of California...among other reasons.
'Finally!' I thought in triumph as I reached the door.
Hurriedly I stuck the key in the handle and turned it a few times, ignoring the man entering the room next to me. After pushing the door, I bent down next to me to retrieve the duffel bag I set down. Before I could reach the handle, I found a much larger hand had grabbed it for me. I looked into the face of the middle aged man in front of me. His mustached lips broke out in a large grin, which I found unsettling as I grabbed it away from him. I made sure not to touch his hand. Before any more interaction could be made, I rushed into my room and locked the door.
With a sigh of relief I flipped on the light switch as the room instantly brightened. The first thing I noticed was the motions of bugs scurrying away by the window, my face scrunching into a grimace. I looked at the twin bed which sat on a rusted frame, looking anything but comfortable. Although I couldn't sleep on the bus and I was a bit sore from the walk, so I welcomed it. My grimace never left as I observed the stained carpet and pathetic excuse for a television. Which sat on a dresser which looked like it was purchased in the late seventies. Tiredly I threw my bag on to the armchair next to me, a shuffling noise from the next room catching my attention. I thought of the creepy man that had greeted me earlier with a shiver. Seeing as the bathroom was visible next to me, door on the right wall must be conjoined to the stranger's room. To my horror the lock looked as though it had been broken several times, looking anything but secure. Another sound from the other room sent me reeling into action as I hurriedly dragged the stained armchair from it's place and shoved it against the door.
Small towns be damned, I've seen too much to allow benefit of the doubt.
Feeling somewhat safer I turned on the television, in order to drown out the noises of next door. The weather man declaring that Forks and the surrounding areas wouldn't see anything but rain for most of the month. I didn't mind it though, I'd spent the last few weeks in states like Arizona and Nevada, I was sick of the heat. Grabbing pajamas that were only slightly damp, I made my way to the bathroom. Grabbing a fluffy towel I splayed it across the floor, over the unclean tile, another by the shower. After a few minutes of messing with the nozzle I finally got the warm water going as it quickly steamed up the bathroom. Quickly I shed my ripped jeans, retro t-shirt and gray sweatshirt, along with my socks and patched converse. Although my clothes were nice enough to pass for overpriced retro items at the mall, they were simply thrift store bargains. I was used to it though, I wasn't that well off before Nana died either. Soon the only thing that remained on my body was my grandmother's ring which hung on a silver chain around my neck, too large to fit my fingers. I hesitantly put it neatly on the counter, before glancing to my reflection in the mirror.
Dark brown hair hung in layers framing a heart shaped face. While side bangs descended into black brows and plain brown oval eyes. Rimmed by long lashes, although unlike most people my eyelashes, though long and thick, didn't curl up. Without mascara and a eyelash-curler they stuck straight out. A frustrating trait, that Nana said I inherited from my father. Whom was mostly white meat from what my Nana told me. Not as though I would know, seeing as I've never meet either of my parents. High cheek bones sat beneath the brown eyes, which inhearted from my mother's side, my Nana's daughter. She told me when had some Indian in our blood, although which tribe she couldn't recall. A nose which told signs of hispanic heritage sat above small lips, completed by light olive colored skin. My face was pretty enough from what I've been told, Nana always demanded to keep my hair in a pony-tail.
"Mija," She would say. "The world has a enough ugly in it, don't hide the beauty."
I didn't bother to observe the rest of my body though, I knew what it looked like. I had a large bust and a Latina bottom, which was great, but my weight was more than what is deemed 'hot' by today's standards. It's not as though I'm morbidly obese and I can't fit in to mediums but I know that my arms, stomach and thighs are larger than what they used to be. This is intentional though, I could easily work off the weight with all the walking I do. Considering the fact I don't have a car. Although once I heard the saying 'fat kids are harder to kidnap', and I took it to heart. After Nana died and the bank took our house I was staying at the youth center, I saw what happened to the obviously beautiful girls at night. From then on I always made sure I kept myself well fed. My weight not only took away most of those wandering eyes, it also made me a bit more threatening, which is an accomplishment considering my height.
As previously stated, my face was pretty enough and figure still curvy to watch out when traveling alone. Especially from men like I encountered earlier by my room door, you can't take chances in the real world. Stepping into the shower I rinsed away the grime of the day and lathered my body and hair. Delighting sinfully in how relaxing the warm water felt pounding against my stiff muscles. Sooner than later the water started to turn cold, as I shut it off and changed into a large t-shirt and blue pajama bottoms. Throwing my dirty clothes on top of my now dry duffel bag I placed everything on top of the armchair, deciding to get some wash done before I leave tomorrow. Grabbing two blankets from the depths of the duffel bag I spread them out on the bed. In a motel like this I didn't want to chance the rumpled sheets. While brushing my hair and putting it up in a ponytail I did my nightly routine as I checked the lock on the door and making sure the window was secured.
" I've almost been robbed twice." I mumbled to myself, giving the window a secure push. " Sure as Hell not going to happen let it again."
After making sure everything was safe, I dug around my duffel bag before taking out my thick photo album. I had only filled a little more than half the album, but since I have a few ways to go I'm sure to get more snapshots. I opened up to the first page, the first picture I ever took. It was of me and my Nana at the beach my fourth grade summer. She sat with her arms supporting behind her as I leaned next to her. I had on a goofy smile, my hair wet and plastered to my face, while my grandmother smiled shyly from behind a large blue hat and sunglasses. The next pictures of me and Nana were few and sparse. My teenage years spent mostly taking care of Nana while she slowly lost her battle against lung cancer. I didn't want to take her picture when she was weak like that, I wanted her eternally beautiful, forever in her paradise. Most of the others were after I left California, after I bought my new camera. I took pictures of scenery, people, animals, anything and everything that interested me. Having photos documented is sort of like my proof life, that I lived. Without Nana I didn't really have anything to validate my existence, besides a few state documents. Photos of me and my changing surroundings tell a story, and it's a story that I can revisit every time I open the photo album. I thumbed through a few more pages, revisiting stories of people I've met, places I've seen before the days events started to wear on me.
I checked the clock radio on the night stand next to me. 11:12 blaring back at me in neon lime green.
' Eh, I have to leave by ten tomorrow if I want a few hours to take pictures. Time for bed.'
With that thought I check my valuables and hid them down in my duffel bag. Then turned off the light as the room filled with a familiar blue glow of the television. I could hear mice skitter around somewhere in the walls as I lay down for the night. It never really bothered me though. I've stayed in places much more dangerous then this. I silently said goodnight to my Nana and prayed that she would watch over me for the rest of the night, not bothering to turn off the T.V. as I settled beneath my blankets. I went over my next plan of action as I decided that after wash I would head over to La Push.
" A little detour couldn't hurt."
That was my last thought as I drifted into much needed unconsciousness.
So that was chapter one! I hope you enjoyed it and review if you would like to see more! I know the first chapter was a bit vague on A.J.'s (who's full name will be revealed later on) history, but don't worry we have lots of chapters to go. haha Next chapter will definitely include some Paul and co./A.J. interaction! Read and Review please!