Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight. Never gonna. Crap.

I do like Jacob… in a sense, but he will have NO place in this story. I have most of the plot already lined up, and he will not be making an appearance.

Come on, guys… I know there are a ton of you reading my stuff, I just broke 1,000 views this month, and I only have as many reviews as I do? Really? That makes me sad. I even allow anonymous reviews, for the love of all that's Twilight! Tell your friends, family, even people you think are douchenozzles about me and tell them to please review!

I put one of my friends from this vast fandom in here, because she's fabtastic, and I love her! Hugs to you, oh mystery person! (I just guessed what you look like, hope I did somewhat okay…) Look for your name somewhere below…

Oh Crap

BPOV

After the Cullens left, I fell apart. Became a soulless shell, the corpse of who I once was, simply wandering the Earth. Somehow, I still went to school, did my work, and barely convinced people I was fine. Charlie tried to ship me off to Florida to live with Renée and Phil, but then I got named valedictorian, so he let me stay. I got a letter from Dartmouth, offering me a full academic scholarship, though I had no memory of even submitting an application. I reluctantly accepted, and while there, I got drunk one night, and I got a tattoo. On my left bicep, in elegant, flowing calligraphy, was the word Edward in deep red ink, with what looked like a drop of blood spilling from the E. Since then, I've tried to avoid looking in the mirror too closely to escape the onslaught of pain it caused.

A few months later, I got the shock of my life; I was pregnant. Apparently my last birthday wish from him had gotten me pregnant. I never got to finish college. When the day came, it was a terrible, bloody time. The pain was excruciating. When I heard the first cry, my eyes snapped open. Victoria and her burning hair filled my vision, cradling two small red bundles in her arms, looking almost tenderly at them. I was outraged. How dare she touch my babies? Wait- babies? Twins? Yes, they were twins.

"You know," she said in an almost conversational tone, "if I change you, you'll probably kill them yourself. That'll hurt you more than me killing them. Hmmm, that stupid little boy, what was his name? Oh yes, Edward. He didn't want you to be changed, did he?" I couldn't speak, every muscle in my body paralyzed with fear and pain. "I didn't think so. Well, have fun burning! You deserve the pain." She snarled, leaning in to plunge her teeth into my neck. Flames consumed me, making it impossible to form a rational thought. A few days later, I awoke to my babies' cries. I feared their blood would be too much to resist, but it didn't smell even a bit appetizing. I gathered my things from my apartment and fled, taking my angels with me.

I couldn't believe it; I was a mother. They were the most perfect children anyone could ever have. A boy and a girl. They were fully developed at the human age of 6. As they grew up, they both bore startling resemblance to their father.

I named my son Edward, but he preferred to be called Eddie. He was everything I always imagined his father was like as a human. Lightly tanned skin, beautiful, unruly copper hair, and eyes like emeralds. He had my human blush, darkening his cheeks when angry, happy, and embarrassed.

My daughter, I named Elizabeth. I tried to call her Lizzie multiple times, but she found nicknames to be "ridiculously tedious". She had my mahogany curls, creamy skin, and natural shyness. She had the same eyes, however, as her brother.

They were both gifted pianists, and always insisted I put at least a baby grand in each of their floors at our houses. (So we didn't fight over space, whenever we moved into a new home, I gave us each a floor to be our own personal space.)

It had been 80 years since their birth when we added a new member to the family. Eddie's mate. We were living in Texas at the time, and on one of our hunts, he saw her in the moonlight and froze, a dopey smile creeping onto his face. Her dirty blonde hair waved softly to the middle of her back, and her golden eyes sparkled in the moonlight. She had a heart-shaped, almost regal looking face, with a slightly upturned narrow nose. She was breathtaking.

His brilliant pick up line? "My Eddie name is hi," Nice Edster… real smooth there.

She met his eyes and smiled softly, holding her hand out gently. He took it and met her eyes curiously. She giggled and in a clear, high soprano, said, "My Allison name is hey," with a mischievous smile on her face. With that, they were inseparable. Her name was Allison St. John, and her parents had been killed during the vampire wars of the south.

They now shared the second floor of our house in Forks, which just so happened to be their old house. I thought it would be a good idea to come back and get some closure, after 100 years away from it, I figured why not come back and embrace it.

I gave Elizabeth the basement, knowing she loved going all Martha Stewart on mission impossible spaces, as she called them.

The third floor, his floor, I claimed as my own. It only had two rooms, but that was perfectly fine with me. I only needed one for my music, and one for my painting. I knew how to play guitar, drums, piano, bass guitar, and the cello. I had written and recorded multiple songs and sent them to record labels under a pseudonym, and was currently the best-selling singer in America.

My art was like photography. My memories allowed me to capture every detail of their faces in perfect frames. I had multiple paintings of them all. It used to be their home; they should be in it… in a sense.

My kids had asked me multiple times, "Mom, who're those people?" then they'd see their father. "Mom, mom, mom, look! He looks like us!"

I'd just smile and send them to entertain themselves. When they were gone, I sank to the ground and sobbed silently, letting the pain consume me. I knew they knew something was up with the mystery people in the paintings, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell them just yet.

I had enrolled the kids at Forks High, and taken a teaching position there for myself. Last year, I changed my name to Isabella Masen, wanting to keep something of him, no matter how insignificant. Eddie and Elizabeth took Masen as well, and Allison kept St. John.

I was jerked out of my thoughts by a resounding crash from below. "Edward Charlisle and Elizabeth Renesmee Masen! If something's broken down there, you're both going hunting with me for the next week!" I shouted. They were perpetually stuck in the never be seen with Mom in public phase.

I darted downstairs in my crimson Armani Exchange blouse and black pencil skirt, Fendi peep-toe pumps, and leather jacket. "Come on, guys! You're gonna be late to school, and I'm gonna be late for work! Move your lazy butts!" the all lined up in front of me with innocent smiles on their faces. Innocent my Gucci briefcase, I mentally snorted. "Okay, you guys are taking the Challenger, I'm taking my motorcycle. If I see so much as one scratch on that car, you're all in enormous trouble, you hear me?" I asked sternly.

They all nodded and darted out the door. I chuckled to myself and shrugged on my jacket and pulled on my sleek black helmet.

After locking up and grabbing my briefcase, I hopped on my motorcycle and fired up the engine. I gunned it out onto the highway, narrowly avoiding hitting a silver sedan, the driver of which had no problem with blaring their horn at me. Whatever. You know what they say, Go hard or go home. I skidded into the parking lot and slid into the spot next to the Challenger. I got off and walked quickly to my English classroom. I would be teaching the honors classes for juniors and seniors. Students rushed in as the warning bell sounded. I kept my back to them as I wrote Ms. Masen on the board in large cursive.

Final bell rang out, and as I turned to face my class, I said. "Hello. My name is Ms. Masen, and I'll be your English teacher this-" I broke off as I stared into a pair of tortured golden eyes. Eyes I thought I'd never see again. The eyes that broke my heart. Edward.

I gasped quietly, and murmured under my breath, "Oh crap,"

Did you guys like it? This is gonna be an amazing story, but only with reviews! Please, do what I asked in the top authors note. PLEASE! Reviews are seriously the reason I write.

P.S. Did ya catch your name in there, mystery person?