Prologue
Bang. It rang through my head, a long ominous sound that could only come from a clock tower. Bang. The memory jolted again, like a bolt of lightning, so fast and surprising. Bang. It was like I was there. Wasn't I? My mother, Isabella Swann, or Bella to everyone else, has used her Gift so intensely so now she can give me her memories. And I loved to try and thread together every little bit and piece I got from her; to try and figure out this haze in between when my mom met my dad and when I was born. The things between my love, Jacob and between my role model, my mother. She wasn't revealing anything to me yet, nevertheless I was very persistent, a talent my father says I got from her, and no was not an answer. I craved knowledge, and tried like heck to get it.

Renesmee: Chapter 1

I knew one thing; he was beautiful. With his dark, tanned skin, to his jet black hair, I shuddered with ecstacy. I had this feeling only when I was around him, and I loved to just look at him. My quick fingers traced the outlines of his lips, then the strong thickness of his chin. He smiled as I was doing this, making me screw up.
"Hey," I laughed, laying my head against his knee.
"Oh, come on, Nessie," he let his gaze stray to the surrounding forest for a second, then switched back to me almost immediately. His large brown eyes were so intense I felt he was too deep for my liking. But I was always thinking these stupid thoughts.
"Nessie? You know I hate that." He rolled his eyes and rested his chin against his palm. Jacob twirled my thick auburn locks. He held one up to the light and twirled it, making it shine a pretty shade of red.
"Well, I think it's fitting. Cute, mysterious, and hard to catch." I thought for a moment.
"Doesn't mean it is not degrading." He closed his eyes and used his free hand to move my head from his lap. He got up, still in the shade of the tree, and looked at me.
"Renesmee, what is wrong? You've been like, so out of tune with me, and I can't stand it!" He was only in his shorts, and his washboard abs stood out even in the dim lighting. I got on my knees, staining my knees with the wet grass, and my smile faltered. Jacob leaned his head against the tree.
"Whenever I'm around you I feel like I have to be smarter. To be better in some way, like I could never size up to you. Ever." He laughed slightly, a guttural snort that erupted from nowhere. He bent down, grabbing my hands with his giant ones. He laughed again, this time soft and easy.
"Ness. . . Renesmee, I am the one who is always trying to impress you. You're brilliant, Ness. I'm the stupid one." Jake's lips made deep, thick movements like he was the male lead in the ballet. But the star was his mouth.
"Yeah. Right," I pulled the sketchpad out from under my lap, added a few more fluid strokes to the paper, and flipped it around so he could see.
Before he could say a word I interrupted. ". . . I thank you for the compliment, but I'm not that good." He grabbed the pad from my hands, still in silence.
"Ness. . . this is me?!" His eyes rolled over the picture in awe, setting the tone for his thoughts. He looked up at me, smiling.
"You love me. I know you do." I nodded, eyes lost in thought. Did I? Did I really? Jake ran to me, arms scooping me up as he kissed my neck playfully. As I laid in his arms, his kisses became more and more intense.
"N. . . no, wait, Jacob." He stared at me. Many emotions passed his eyes. Confusion. Mental heartbreak. Lust.
"Why, Renesmee? Why make me wait? Us wait? I mean, it's been like, 8 years since your , away.
"But, mom. . . and I'm not sure if we should really do this. I don't want to have another thing like me. Put her through what I went through with the Volturi." Jacob's eyes darkened as I said that word. The Volturi. Yuck, it made my stomach curl.

When I was about a few months old, my aunt Irina saw me with Jacob and my mom, Bella. She immediately thought I was an immortal child, which was punishable by death, and she immediately went to the Volturi. The Volturi, a group of three men that rule with a force hand, came for a fight. It was only by our friends that they didn't declare a fight. We barely skimmed by on that one.
Jake's finger went up my leg, and led to my inner thigh. I felt a little uncomfortable, awkward at his touch, and scooted away from him. Jacob's face leaked a different kind of anger, one more like regret. I gave him a slow high-pitched peep and stood up. This was all that happened when me and Jake were together; a disappointment to both parties.

Jake punched the tree, sending it rocking on its roots. Jake really was being a baby; I didn't want it, so why should he? I mean, why should I think too much on this, and I realized why. Imprinting on me was like investing.