PREFACE

I hate my life.

Why do I say that? Well, if your life had sunk to the lowest of the low, the foulest of the foul, the saddest of the sad, the worst of the worst, we can assume that you aren't happy about it. Then, for a few, glorious days, your life is swapped for a much better life. You feel jubilant and joyful again. This makes you happy. Then that same life is thrown into turmoil and angst all over again. This makes you unhappy. Then one thing, one tiny, eventual little thing, brightens up your life, and you're happy again.

But then you, yourself, make the decision that ruins it all again.

Why?

I'll tell you why.

Here's my story...

~WT~

I was sitting in the tree again. Lately I had avoided it, after all the stress and emotional turmoil I was going through.

The letter was still sitting, unopened, on the kitchen table. I couldn't bear to open it, in case of further failures imprinted there.

I couldn't possibly face more failures, so for now, I'll leave it be.

I had come to the tree as it is the only place where I can forget. I sit up there and all my problems seem to disappear...

With times like these it's good to feel numb inside.

The tree was my special place. When I went up in it, I felt as if all my worries were leaking out, as if I had a hole somewhere, and the cork that normally filled it was snagged by the branches when I went up. I wish I had the ability to pull that cork out by myself, but I didn't. I needed my tree to do that for me.

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. It drifted to painful topics first, and then to more stressful ones. Even the tree couldn't take all my worry away.

Normally I have a book or a sketching pad in the tree with me, to while away the clumsy hours of forgetting.

I had refuted drawing for the past few months, slipping into the habit of ignoring all my old hobbies. I still read, though, as it was nice to escape to other people's lives from time to time.

So I had decided that I wanted to read up in the old tree.

I want to be able to be the heroine of someone else's life, instead of being in mine. Inside, I go to my extensive mini-library and look at the worn spines of all my treasures. I reread and reread and reread my books, because every time you reread a book, another detail comes out at you. I get to really know the plot line, and notice and remember random things from the story.

I would usually twist the stories, change it for better, for worse. I had a big imagination, and loved to make things up all day long.

I headed toward the old bookshelf, filled with old treasures that I had accumulated over the years.

I had my more well-known books, the Harry Potters, the Twilights, the Artemis Fowls, the Roald Dahls and other titles. I also had my lesser known books, gems that I found in bookstores along the way.

I wondered which to take. I dithered between The Goblet of Fire, The Undrowned Child, At World's End... so many to choose from!

I thought for a bit, unsure, walking around a the room to decide. I decided on one, and headed back toward the shelf. Destiny would not have me read The Mourning Emporium.

I tripped over Tyler's toy truck and fell against the shelf, my head knocking books flying.

Destiny smiled as she delivered a book right into my lap.

"All right," I grunted. So this was the book I was supposed to act out. In my head, of course. Fate was probably laughing like a maniac as I stared down at the familiar black, white and red cover of an old obsession. Karma hooted as I ran my finger down the falling apart spine of an old favorite. She convulsed violently and held her tummy as tears streamed down her face as I looked down at my copy of Twilight.

~WT~

Of course I didn't hesitate to run back to my tree, already running through some story ideas for me to follow. I quickly scurried up the bark, the book in my mouth. What possible would happen next? Would I be Rosalie, rejoicing as Carlisle finally found a way to convert us back to humans, but distraught when she found she couldn't conceive children? Would I be Alice, alone in the dark except for my only friend, the vampire who changed me? Perhaps I would be in Bella's place, and change the whole story. What would I have done in those crucial moments she had to decide. Jacob? Or Edward? I was taken with the idea of Jacob. Perhaps that was what my story would be about. If I didn't jump the cliff in New Moon, but instead learned to love what I had, and what I had was Jacob?

But I wasn't doing New Moon, I was doing Twilight. So I decided to just place myself in the story, along with Bella, and see what would happen.

Back up in the tree, book in hand, I settled in for a good few hours of solid reading. And imagining. Just as I opened the covers, a gust of wind whipped around me. Strange. Winds didn't normally appear this time of the year.

I turned the first page. The balcony lights flickered and went out.

Undeterred, I paged through the blank pages in the front of the novel to get to the preface. The dog barking from across the road fell silent.

I looked up. It was dark, too dark for four in the afternoon.

It was quiet. Too quiet for my lower-class suburban area.

It was windy, way too windy for summer in Michigan.

Something strange was going on. All of a sudden a bright blue light illuminated my yard, causing me to jump. A bit freaked, I lowered my eyes to see one word jump out on the illuminated page before me.

Forks.

Before I knew it, I was falling, falling, falling into the unknown.

~WT~