Hey, friends! I'm so sorry it's been years since I made this story and haven't updated, but I'm back and I updated quite a handful of this chapter. I'll be posting the next chapter as soon as I possibly can, along with the other stories I have. Enjoy the edits!
How can you simply be friends—or rather be with someone, when every time you look at them, you're thinking about how much more you really want? That one line that I told him the last time I saw his beautifully angelic face was one of the hardest things I had to do. I wanted him to look at me, but he never did.
Well, he did… once. But that was of desperation. He was desperate of someone to love, but not willing to let go and replace the first woman he really loved. He kissed me, because being without her drove him insane. He thought I was her.
But after his precious lover came back, he smothered her with kisses, hugs and loving words that could make any woman melt, words that I wanted him to tell me lovingly and sincerely. He forgave her on the spot. And from then on, they loved each other, never letting go of one another.
For them, it was joyful and worth celebrating but for me, it was heartbreaking and worth leaving for, and I knew I had to get out of this hellhole. So I did.
I left without notice, not that he would care. I swallowed all of my pride and ran back to my family, knowing that they wouldn't forgive me easily. But surprisingly, they did.
They welcomed me with open arms, except my older brother. He continued to despise me for it by glaring at me and being unwelcoming, and I can't blame him for it. I ran away, for Pete's sake! I left everything—even my family for him, and I never wanted to do that again.
So I changed myself and obeyed my parents. I copied my older sibling by not talking to him either because he wouldn't acknowledge my presence. I made things easier for him because knowing my brother when he's angry, he could explode into a giant fur ball. Literally.
What do I mean by that? Well, I'm not really born in a normal family.
My family consists of supernatural beings, to be specific, vampires and werewolves—well, shape-shifters.
According to my mother and great grandmother's stories, my grandma, Bella Cullen, was human before and fell in love with my grandfather, Edward Cullen, who was already a vampire. Add some romance drama and dramatic oh-em-gee's then poof! They got married!
Surprisingly, my dad—Jacob Black—was actually in love with my grandmother. He and my grandfather would get into arguments most of the time because they were... 'love rivals'.
After that, grandma became pregnant with my mom and underwent so much pain because of it. Both my dad and grandfather hated my mother when she was still in her mother's stomach or... whatever you call it, but thankfully, Aunt Rose was there to guard grandma and Mama Esme was there to help her as well.
Eventually, my grandfather began to love my mother when he was able to hear her thoughts while she was still inside grandma. According to dad, he could never hate anyone who loves my grandmother, that's why he didn't hate my dad.
When the day that my grandmother was to give birth came, the pain from the labor was killing her so grandpa turned her to a vampire. My dad, hoping to kill my mom when she was born, 'imprinted' on my mom instead.
It caused some... mishap between my grandparents and my dad because saying that my grandmother was pissed is a complete understatement.
She was angry to the point that she accidentally broke the bones on Uncle Seth's shoulders, something she wanted to give my dad instead. But she learned to accept the fact that my mother and father were meant for each other.
Since my mom was still young that time, my dad was a brother and a protector to my mom. Eventually, it grew to something more as my mother matured and they fell in love yada, yada, yada, then bada-bing-bada-boom, they got married and had me and my brother, Brian.
With my grand uncles and grand aunts—Alice, Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett—they told us to call them aunt or uncle to make it easier for Brian and I instead of calling them "Grand Aunt Alice" or "Grand Uncle Jasper" because it was a mouthful.
As I mentioned earlier, my dad imprinted on my mom and you might be thinking right now, 'what the hell is imprinting?'
Well my dear friend, imprinting—according to my dad—is the involuntary action of a Quileute shape-shifter finding his or her soul-mate.
At first, I thought that the two parties were forced upon each other, but then after some explaining—courtesy of my daddy dearest—imprinting just shows you, or rather points you to the direction of who you're destined to be with forever.
It's romantic, yes, but I'd rather have my own way of writing my own fate, not some mystical mechanism pushing me to 'my soul-mate' or 'the man I'm destined to be with for eternity'. I learn from mistakes so I want to make as many mistakes as I can.
And besides, considering the gene of over-protectiveness runs in the family—cough, everyone in my family is, cough—that destined dude would most definitely be dead before he even hugged me the first time.
Anyway, let me give you some insiders on my family.
My beautiful mom, Renesmee, is a hybrid—half human and half vampire. My dad, on the other hand, you might know him as Jacob Black. He is a shape-shifter, the alpha of his pack. My brother, Brian, is also a shape-shifter, with hints of vampirism in him.
Me? I'm human.
Weird, right? You're whole family consists of vampires and werewolves except you. I have no idea why I wasn't born either of those races, but it meant more normality for me which was good.
Unfortunately, the 'more normality' part doesn't comfort me at all.
Every single day, I always think of how... unsuitable I am to be in this family, that I'm the odd-one-out.
Whenever I would go back inside my house, I would walk to the framed pictures near the front door and stare at each picture. Everyone would fit in, except me.
All gorgeous, all gold eyes or brown eyes, and just one blue eyed.
It was one of the reasons I disliked my eye color. Not hate, dislike.
I was different, I was the only human, the only blue eyed one in the family, the only one different among them. Everyone around me was either golden eyed or brown eyed. Everyone in my extended family of full bred vampires were golden eyed, everyone in my nuclear family is brown eyed, except me. Everyone was supernatural, except me.
My fanily members, excluding my brother, would console me on this especially when my grandfather would voice out to everyone when I was thinking about it, but it doesn't soothe my nerves at all!
They may understand how it feels to be different from other people, but they most definitely don't understand how it hurts to be different from your own family. But let me tell you that it hurts.Truly, badly, deeply.
Sigh.
Onwards with a different topic, I wasn't really able to go to school actually. I'm home-schooled by my family, each member teaches Brian and I one subject.
Uncle Jasper would teach us World History, grandma would teach us English, grandpa would teach us Music—well, more with me, Uncle Emmett would teach us Physical Ed—the subject Brian enjoys and participates in the most, and practically one of my weaknesses, great (sense the sarcasm?)—great grandpa would teach us Biology, great-grandma would teach us Art, Aunt Rosalie would teach us etiquette—I don't know why they thought of that, and Aunt Alice would… well, spoil us to death.
Grandma thought it was a bit unhealthy to keep spoiling us with expensive stuff and I agree with her, but hey, there's nothing wrong with getting a bit of something-something for me, right?
But of course, much to Aunt Alice and Aunt Rosalie's dismay, my clothing style consists of t-shirts, hoodies, worn out jeans, sneakers and messy ponytails… in short, comfortable clothing. Mother told me that it was most definitely a trait I got from my grandmother, Bella. She was always amused seeing Aunt Alice and Aunt Rosalie being frantic about my 'lack of appreciation for fashion'.
Though much to my annoyance, both of my aunts tend to replace my wardrobe every two weeks but hey, I have a stash of comfy clothes in a small duffle bag—a secret between my mind reading grandpa and me.
Right now, I was lying down, listening to Linkin Park's 'Numb' in full blast. I sighed, sitting up and pausing my iPod. I took off my headphones and placed them on the edge of my bed.
Standing up, I went to my vanity mirror and took my brush. As I felt my brush untangle the several knots in my hair, I stared at my reflection.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, in our family was gorgeous. The vampires in my family were gorgeous, even the shape-shifters were gorgeous. Me? I was average.
My hair is curly and unusually bronze in color, with at least three locks of my hair dyed in red—to remind me of him, his ruby red eyes—and my eyes are blue that, according to my grandmother, I probably inherited from her mom, grandmother Renée—whom I haven't met yet.
I was pale and generously freckled around my body, which, in all honestly, makes me feel extremely self conscious because it makes me feel like some spotty dog—not exactly the type of dog I'd like to be, which is way beyond the explosive fur ball dog I wished I was, but that's probably the closest I can get to be with the supernatural looks. I have delicate eyebrows framing my blue eyes, which are rimmed with long, dark and thick lashes, and my cheeks were naturally flushed pink. My lips were the color of seashells and my dimples show whenever I smile.
In general, I was almost an exact replica of my mother, Renesmee, with the exemption of the eyes and the fact that my mom is a gorgeous woman, while I was a plain Jane. Not to mention, I have poor, poor eyesight, so I wear black, rectangular glasses to let me see better.
I wasn't ugly, but I was nothing compared to my relatives.
"Don't say that," my grandfather's voice startled me. His liquid gold eyes looked at me with worry and a hint of sternness. I was surprised, not hearing my door open, but then again, vampires could move with no sound, thus, their prey not knowing that they were about to catch them.
"Oh, hello grandpa," I greeted him. He smiled and walked across my room with such grace of a vampire, sitting down on my bed. Their effortless gracefulness was something I was envious of. They were all agile, graceful, even a prima ballerina would covet their smoothness and gracefulness.
"Breanne, you're beautiful just the way you are," he reminded me with his melodious voice. I chuckled darkly, facing my mirror once again.
How cruel the world is. People always say that to others, that they are beautiful but really, that's just a way of butt-kissing someone.
I never believed that "you're beautiful just the way you are" phrase because no matter how much you try to please everybody, not everyone will like you. Not everyone would say you're beautiful. They would judge you, compare you, badmouth you, be plain bitchy and such a bastard.
What a cruel, cruel, cruel world I'm in.
Grandpa sighed as he heard the thoughts ringing in my head. "Despite whatever you think, we all love you, we all think you're beautiful. You're kind and caring, you're compassionate, all of your good points make you beautiful, and all your flaws are a part of you, which makes you even more beautiful and unique," he stated. I sighed and forced a smile on my face to appease my grandfather's worry.
"Thanks grandpa," I told him, standing up and hugging my grandfather. I didn't know if he noticed how fake the smile plastered upon my face was. He just chuckled and hugged back, kissing my temple.
"Anyway, we'll be having guests later. Dress up, not your t-shirts and jeans," he said, standing up. I sighed and nodded.
"Okay, dress... but no heels," I said.
"Alright, that's fine," he told me as he gave me a small smile and walked out of the room, closing the door. I sighed then walked to my closet to find a dress.
After long minutes of finding a dress, I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered and opened my door slightly, poking my head out.
"Aunt Alice! Aunt Rosalie! Could you please help me choose a dress?" and in an instant, my fashion obsessed adoptive aunts were in front of me. Aunt Rosalie pulled me to my vanity desk and set me down on my small bench while Aunt Alice searched into my closet.
"Hmm… let's see, maybe like this? No, maybe like this," my blonde aunt muttered to no one in particular as she positioned my hair in different places in front of the mirror.
"Um, Aunt Rose? I just need a dress…" I told them. She pouted slightly.
"Let us dress you up for once, please?" she asked. I pulled a straight face, not wanting to give in.
"Oh please, please, please, please Bree? You asking us is like… a once in a lifetime opportunity! Please let us?" Aunt Alice pleaded to me. They knew I hated being dressed up, but they always tried to beg me to make me their personal Barbie doll. I bit my lip as I stared into their twinkling eyes.
"Ugh, stop staring at me like that. You know I'll give in if you look at me like that," I whined. Aunt Alice winked.
"That's the point! Now, please?" they asked again. I sighed, slumping my shoulders and giving in.
"Alright, go ahead," I muttered, waving my hand. They both squealed and went back to work—dearest Auntie Alice searching for a dress and Aunt Rosalie experimenting on different hairstyles.
My pixie-like aunt settled on a light blue sundress with a brown corset belt the covered the area from below my chest and above my hips. She tugged on the strings to make it tighter, but not tight enough to suffocate me.
It had thin straps that hugged my body and flowed just below my breasts, ending above my knees. She chose a white cardigan to keep me warm and black heels. I wrinkled my nose in disgust when I saw the feet murderers.
"Aunt Alice, no heels please," I told her. She sighed.
"Fine," she muttered, knowing that when I was given a choice between heels or no shoes at all, I would no doubt choose to be barefooted, settling with black ballet flats. I smiled and thanked her, slipping it on.
Aunt Rosalie, on the other hand, settled for putting my hair into a half ponytail, looping it here and there and braiding some parts with a few tiny floral clips accentuating it, while some of my shorter locks framed my face. I don't know how she did it, but my hair was really pretty.
"Okay, makeup time," Alice sang. I turned to them and did an X with my arms.
"No… no makeup," I told them. My pixie-like vampire aunt rolled her eyes.
"Just mascara to widen your eyes because you're pretty enough, okay?" she assured me. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the 'pretty' part and nodded. She curled my lashes with her eyelash curler and combed the mascara wand through my lashes.
"Done," she announced and lets me look into my vanity mirror. My lashes were lengthened, had more volume, and my eyes were big and bright.
"Thanks," I told them with a smile.
"No problem, sweetie," Aunt Rosalie said and brushed cheek lightly. I smiled and hugged them both, before they went out of my room to dress and themselves up, not that they don't look good enough. They could probably wear rags and still look good with it.
I took my jewelry box and slid the pearl ring great-grandmother Esme gave me on my sweet sixteen on my right index finger.
It was a simple ring, with a small pearl and a thin, silver band, but it held its own beauty. It was small, simple and pretty in its own way, definitely my style. I wore it every single day, even when I sleep. I only take it off when I'm washing up every morning and night or taking a bath.
I took my Cullen crest and wore it around my right wrist. It was the almost the same as great-grandmother Esme's, but the band of the bracelet was much thinner to counterbalance my thin wrist so it doesn't seem like it's being swallowed by the bracelet. It was elegant in style and dark in color, but understated enough to be worn everyday, for me.
I grabbed my favorite chapstick lip moisturizer standing on my vanity desk and applied it on my lips. I liked it because it was blue and vanilla scented, but I liked the vanilla scent more than the color.
"Bree, are you done?" mom's muffled voice outside my room asked as she knocked on my door.
"Yeah mom," I answered and took my black frames, positioning it on my face. I took my iPod and placed my headphones around my neck. I opened the door, revealing my gorgeous mother in a simply beautiful white semi-formal dress. It hugged her body, showing off her jealous-worthy curves, and flowed from her waist as it ended above her knees.
Her feet had black pumps and her hair was placed into a pretty updo. She wore her Cullen crest locket and the braided Quileute bracelet dad gave her one Christmas, her wedding ring on her left ring finger.
She told me that the bracelet dad gave her was a Quileute version of a promise ring. I thought it was really romantic, hoping that maybe I'll get one from my one true love, but who am I kidding. There's no way I'd be imprinted on or be enough to be courted by someone. Besides, even if there was (which I highly doubt), I'm pretty sure the members of my family would lock me up for the rest of my life to keep me from being someone's beau. Heavens, have mercy on me, I might as well live in the convent for my entire lifetime.
My mom grinned at the sight of me, all dressed up.
"Oh sweetheart, you look so beautiful!" she cooed. I gave her an awkward smile.
"Uh, thanks mom but you should thank Aunt Alice and Aunt Rosalie since they dressed me up. You look gorgeous," I complimented.
"Thanks honey," she said as she looped her arm around mine and brought me downstairs. Dad looked at us and smiled.
"There are my favorite girls," he said, placing one arm around my shoulders and the other around mom's waist. He pecked my mom on the lips and kissed my temple.
"You both look beautiful," he complimented. I gave him a small 'thanks' and went to sit beside Brian, who ignored me as always.
Grandma walked down, all gorgeous with a goddess-like beauty, and went to sit beside me. I leaned and placed my head on her shoulder as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
"You look good, sweetie," she told me. I smiled and hugged her. Out of everyone in my extended family, I loved my grandparents the most. They were both understanding and comforting, not to mention they love us to bits.
My grandmother, Bella, would help me out with my human necessities since she knows much more about her human life than anyone else. Also, she's a girl, no need to drag my great-grandfather, Carlisle, into my embarrassing girl crap. Not to mention, she tells me more about the real world. She lets me know what happens around and doesn't baby me as much as Aunt Rose or Aunt Alice, or even my mother.
My grandfather—Edward—on the other hand, plays music with me whenever mom isn't around or whenever I would ask him to play with me. Sometimes, I would sing in my thoughts, just to let grandpa hear me singing without others knowing. He would compliment my voice, but I would just shrug it off, but in the inside, I was bubbling with happiness that he appreciated my singing voice.
Not only that, but my dear grandfather gives wonderful, wonderful advice. Whenever I was having problems, he would help me out and tell me his best advice. It was mostly about my insecurity on being human while everyone around me was part of the supernatural, but nonetheless, I wouldn't want any other grandfather other than him.
It felt weird though, calling two people who were gorgeous, wrinkle-free and not older than seventeen or eighteen 'grandma' or 'grandpa'. It was like, calling an apple a grape, or saying that red is white or something, or tall is short. I would probably be brought to a mental institute if someone catches me calling them that on the pedestrian lane or somewhere in public because believe me, I still think it's insane.
Still though, it felt good—great, even—to have them by my side, ready to help me. My crazy, supernatural family consisting of shape-shifters and vampires would never be complete without my mental shielding grandmother Bella and mind reading grandfather Edward.
Grandpa nudged me and smiled, hearing my thoughts. I chuckled and nodded my head, signaling him that everything that I was saying is true.
I turned back to my grandmother and smiled. "Thanks grandma," I said as she gave me a pat on my back. Everyone around me was gorgeous, even my brother cleaned up good.
"What are we celebrating anyway?" I asked. Grandma shrugged.
"The new wolf pack is visiting us and it's Carlisle and Esme's ninety-second anniversary," she told me. I nodded and watched my great grandparents.
Ah, ninety-two years together. I'm probably dead after the next ninety-two years of their marriage.
"Bree," grandpa warned me. Grandma raised an eyebrow.
"Why? What did she think of?" she questioned. He sighed.
"Her lack of immortality," he answered. Grandma looked at me worriedly and clasped her hands around my own.
"Bree, it's alright. We love you even if you're a human. You know that, right?" She told me softly. I sighed and nodded, once again slapping a fake smile on my face.
"It's time," Aunt Alice sang and pulled me up from the couch, looping her arm around one of mine. She winked at me and guided us all out of the living room.
"By the way," she whispered. "We just dressed you up, you were already pretty from the start."
Her words made me cringe and blush at the same time.
When we stepped into the garden, I was at awe. My level of appreciation for my Aunt Alice increased to a billion times more.
The garden was beautiful, adorned with bright, white lights and embedded with different beautiful flowers, arranged in a way that each would stand out equally. There was a long table, filled with food made by Mama Esme that is undeniably delicious just by looking at it.
Each chair was pretty with a few ribbons to flare it up a bit. The table had a silky cloth on top, making it shine a bit whenever light hits it. The plates were simple but elegant, with a rose design and gold edges. The napkins had gold trims on the edge, making the whole place look effortlessly classy.
"Aunt Alice, you are incredible! How did you do all of this?" I gushed. She giggled.
"I'm Alice Cullen, remember?" she winked. I chuckled and smiled.
"You are unbelievably awesome and fantastic!" I squealed. Mama Esme and Papa Carlisle ran to Aunt Alice and hugged her tight.
"You are... Oh my God Alice, I'm just speechless! This is amazing!" Mama Esme squealed. If she could cry right now, she'd probably have a waterfall of tears flowing.
"It's for both of you, so of course I'll make a huge effort!" Aunt Alice said. I smiled and walked to my mother, who was gushing on how beautifully decorated the garden was thanks to Aunt Alice.
"Isn't it beautiful?" mom whispered to dad as she wrapped an arm around my waist. Dad nodded in approval.
"Shortie is good—Ow! What was that for?" dad whined. Aunt Alice stared at him, annoyed. Judging by the bundle of rolled paper she was holding, she whacked him upside the head because he called her shortie.
"I should've recorded that," I muttered. Mom giggled.
"You should've seen it live," she winked. I cleared my throat.
"Jacob Ephraim Black, whacked upside the head by a pixie like vampire!" I announced, imitating a voice over's tone in televisions. Dad raised an eyebrow at me challengingly.
"Why, dear daughter, you wouldn't mind getting... tickled, would you?" he said menacingly. I gulped and backed away from my father, ready to run.
Okay, my dad is wonderful, the best dad ever! But when it comes to tickle fights... He's unstoppable. He knows every tickle part of mine—which is almost every part of my body—and he loves to use that against me.
I screamed as dad ran towards me. I scrambled my way to Uncle Emmett, who was busy laughing at my dad chasing me, not noticing that I was climbing to his shoulder already.
"Whoa kiddo! You can climb," he laughed and held my thighs to steady me as I sat on his shoulders. Uncle Emmett ran to grandpa, who was laughing along with grandma.
"She's all yours, bro," Uncle Emmett said, setting me down and nudging me towards my grandparents. Grandpa mockingly guarded me along with grandma as I hid from dad.
"Hello, father-in-law and mother-in-law! May I see my daughter who is obviously hiding behind you both?" he asked innocently. My grandparents looked at each other and shrugged, stepping to the side to reveal me in front of my father.
I gasped. "You traitors!" I sighed to them dramatically.
"Well, it was nice meeting you all, goodbye," I said with so much drama as my dad began to tickle me. I laughed so hard, my sides were killing me and tears were flowing out of my eyes.
I squealed as dad brought me up from the ground when he caught my waist, spinning me around and landing me beside mom, who was giggling from our antics.
"You are both so foolish and weird," she laughed out. My dad and I looked at each other, then looked at mom.
"But we're your fools!" we said in chorus. She smiled and nodded, kissing my dad's cheek and kissing me on my forehead.
"Okay, okay, stop the weirdness! The guests are coming!" Aunt Alice squealed. Everyone smiled and gathered together as our guests arrived.
The roaring car engines stopped. There were muffled muttering and laughter as our guests came to view.
"Jake!" one buff man said. Dad laughed and ran to them, doing those wrestling, noogie stuff and man hugs with each other. Even our other family members joined in the greeting. Brian and I stood there awkwardly.
As I looked among the crowd of guests, one stood out to me particularly.
He was tall—probably 6'2—and muscular, but not like a serious bodybuilder kind of muscles that my dad has. He had straight, cropped black hair, with the front of his hair swept to one side touching his forehead, but not enough to be considered as bangs. His skin was tan and flawless. He had a well sculpted face, with high cheekbones and a square jawline. His nose was tall and straight. His eyes—
His eyes. A beautiful shade of green, that stood out so wonderfully.
I don't know why, but I was drawn to him. I felt a pull, tugging me to be near him.
It was weird.
"Brian, Bree, come meet my friends—Bree?" dad called.
I couldn't break the staring contest the boy was having with me. I was too drawn to his eyes, too drawn to him.
A growl suddenly erupted. The moment was suddenly shattered and I jumped, seeing my dad, who was busy glaring at the boy I was staring at a while back.
He—the boy—was still staring at me, kneeling down as if his knees turned to jelly. He was looking at me as if I was a beautiful, glittering jewel, as if he was a blind man seeing the sun rise to the sky for the very first time. His mouth was set agape, at awe. It was flattering, but weird at the same time.
Dad suddenly jumped in front of the boy, making me jump in surprise.
"Brian, you sister!" dad roared.
Brian suddenly took my hand and pulled me behind him, positioning himself to a protective stance. The boys in our family—minus Grandpa Edward—suddenly stood at a protective stance in front of Brian and I, their backs facing us.
"Jake," one of the buff guests who just arrived called out. "Stop, it's okay—"
"No, it's not!" daddy growled. He's very frightening to look at, his eyes nearly black in anger as his body vibrated, the signal which fires out that he's possibly nearing to phase. A shiver rolled down my spine as I saw my father's menacing look that he flashed against the boy.
"Jacob, calm down, Bree's frightened right now," grandpa tried to reason out to my dad, but to no avail. Dad ignored his words as all of his attention and anger was focused on the boy who was searching for me behind the walls of men in front of me.
"You imprinted... on my daughter," he growled. My eyes widened as those words escaped my father's mouth.
Oh God.