Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, unfortunately enough. However, the plot is all me! Hope you enjoy it! By the way, in my other story, Cantante, I do dedication questions at the end of each chappie, which means I ask a question, be the first to answer INCLUDING and enthusiasic review, and the next chapter is dedicated to you! Hope you like the first chapter! Btw, this chapter takes plave before Bella moves to Forks, she is sixteen, and has just graduated gr. 10 in Pheonix.
BPOV
I was so dead. In more ways than one. Why did it have to be me? Why was I unlucky enough to be chosen out of all the toursits at the clock tower tonight watching the fireworks? I had come to Volterra, Italy on summer vacation with my mother,
Renne, because I'd been on the gr. 10 honour roll. We had arrived yesterday, just in time for the celebration tonight. It had been my mothers idea to come see the fire works at the palazzo dei priori, where, of course, I had gotten hopelessly lost in
the crowd. I would never find her. I stayed and searched for my mother in the surging crowd, desperate to find her. I decided to go back to our hotel room. She had to come back sometime, didn't she? I'd meet her there.Little did I know I'd
never make it. I pushed and shoved my way through the trong of people watching the end of the display to a dark alley leading to a side street that would bring me to our hotel. I started into the mouth of the alley, passing a garbage can on my
way. All of a sudden, I met something press into the middle of my back. I froze. A voice came from behind me, speaking in a language I didn't know, and he pressed the gun harder into my back. I didn't move. He grabbed my arm and spun me
around, slamming me into the brick wall of the alley. Suddenly, the gun was in my face. He was whispering again, and he gestured to my purse. Damn him, he wanted my purse. He probably thought I was some sort of rich tourist. But I could see it
in his eyes - when he had what he wanted, he would shoot me. I couldn't be aloud to live. A plan quickly formed in my mind. But I would have to act quickly. I sighed and quickly slipped my purse strap from my shoulder, holding it in my hand. I looked
up, and before he could even register the half determined, half scared expression on my face, I shoved the heel of my hand up towards his face and into his nose. He staggered backwards and I bolted, dropping my purse, as the man cried out,
already behind me. I was half way down the alley when a wild shot rang out behind me. Half a second later, a blinding pain pierced me through my back, hitting a lung. It would take me hours to bleed out, but I would die eventually. I hit the ground
and rolled to the side, into shadow. Pounding foot steps passed me, and I could see through my red washed vision it was my killer. More footsteps followed, chasing, but none stopped for me. By the time light of day found me, I would be dead. I
could feel the wound clearly now. It had been through and through, the bullet exiting through my rib cage. The pain seared along the trajectory, a brurning tunnel trough my torso. But I couldn't die. I needed to look after my mother. I was too
young, only sixteen! I tried to stand up, but only got to my knees before a wave of dizziness pushed me back down. So I began to drag myself along the ground. But after only a few moments, pain from my open wound forced me to stop.
Thousands of tiny black dots began to cloud my vision. I sighed my last breath of relief, and closed my eyes. It felt like only seconds later when I felt a sharp pain slashing my wrists and throat. I screamed, wrenching my eyes back to look at
whoever had cut me. It was a man, with black hair, wearing a long shapeless black robe. He was kneeling beside me. His face was analyzing. Analyzing me. Something about his demeanor struck fear into my almost dead heart. And then the
burning began. It coursed through my veins like liquid fire, burning me from the inside out. And so I began to scream. The man quickly picked me up and then we were flying. The scream of the wind past my ears mingled with my shrieks of pain.
And then we were indoors, out of the cold night, and I was lying on a flat surface. But the fire didn't stop, and niether did my sceams. The man left me alone. For three days, he left me alone, and for three days, fire burned through my body, changing
it. On the third day, the promise of a new beginning hung in the air. The pain began to fade to a dull ache, and I sat up. A mirror hung in the wall across from me, and the girl inside struck me senseless. She had long, thick, luterous mahogany hair
that hung strait to the middle of her back, her skin was pale, but instead of pasty, it looked silky. She was slim, but with well defined muscles. And lastly, I noticed her brown eyes slowly fading from a deep brown to bright ruby. She was flawless. She
was beautiful. She was me. I don't know how long I sat and looked in that mirror, but by the time I was able to look away, the pain had left my body. I clasped my hands and gasped. My skin was hard. I stood up and looked down at myself. I was
still wearing the shirt from three nights ago, the bullet hole through the front stained with blood. I was amazed. I should be dead. Why wasn't I dead? It was then that I first became aware of the presence. I saw her silvery shoes standing a few
feet from me. I looked up to see her staring right at me. And I nearly died right there. It was me. Only it wasn't. She was wearing the same clothes as I was, minus the bullet hole, and she was looking at me mournfully. The only difference was her
eyes, which were the original brown. But what was she? She looked as surprised as I was.
"Um, hello?" I said. "Who are you?" My twin looked like she was about to have a heart attack right there.
"You can see me?" she asked. "Of course I can see you, I'm talking to you, aren't I"
"Well, y-yes, I guess you a-are," she spluttered. I croseed my arms.
"So? Who are you? And why do you look like me?" I asked her.
"Oh, Bella, I'm you," she said. My arms dropped and my eyes widened as far as they would go. "What do you mean, you're me? I don't have any sisters, let alone a twin! Why are you glowing? Who are you? What are you," I asked, scared now.
"I'm sorry, Bella, perhaps I should have explained. Bella, I'm not your sister or your twin. I'm your soul. History has labeled us as ghosts, or the souls of the dead who have unfinished business. However, it's slightly different for me. I - that is, we - stand at a cross-roads. You have a choice to make, Bella, and that will decide weather or not I stay or go"
I just stared at her. She couldn't be serious. But her words didn't seem ridiculous to me. The way she said them rang with truth, a truth I couldn't deny, no matter how much I wanted to. "So, I am dead?" I asked. She looked unsure for a moment before nodding.
"But please, let me explain. What you've become, it has no place for a soul. I can't stay. But depending on your choice, I can stay with you like this until your conciousness leaves your body. However, if after five years, you don't change, I will move
on. I will be damned." Her words scared me. I was dead, but I wasn't. How could I exist without my soul? I didn't know, but apparently I was doing alright right now. I nodded, and she smiled.
"Well, ok. But what will I call you? I can't call you Bella," I said. Her smile widened.
"You can call me Izzy," she answered. I smiled as well. I was my name as well, but not. It was perfect. It was then that I
heard a key jingling in the lock on my door. The knob turned and the man who had saved me walked in. He turned to me.
"Hello, he said pleasatly, "My name is Caius. Welcome to Volterra."
A/N: Ok, this is the first chapter in the new story, and while writing, I got to thinking. Edwards always freaking out about his soul, right? So, I'm writing a remedy! I hope you like this chapter. Review and let me know how I'm doing. If I don't get at least 5 reviews, I won't bother continuing this story, which is sad, becuz I really want to right it. I will write one more chapter, tho, but only one. K, this chapter dedication question is... What are the names of the three men Carlisle stayed with while in Volterra? I've already given you one, so don't diappoint me! Plus, bonus points for whoever can tell me what a 'lemon' is when writing fan fic. Ok! See you in the next chapter.