Prologue: "Never Be Quite Normal"

--Say it Sooner by The Almost

BPOV

Oh, don't even get me started on Mr. Condescending who insisted he was always picture fucking perfect. Fuck the whole 'ha-ha, I'm older than you and I know so much more than you do just because of that menial fact,' I'm even older than Edward for Christ's sake! I'd been getting fed up with his prude ass for the past few weeks.

Ripping through my house, finding the necessities for my survival, throwing them into a bag. Fastening the locket that Alice and Jasper got me for my birthday last year with a picture of all of us together at the baseball clearing before all that shit with James, I emptied the contents of my bookcase into a suitcase. Ah, books, the one thing that hasn't let me down since I moved to this shithole. Nobody knew, and I preferred it that way, that my Renee and Phil were loaded. I had over a million dollars to my name even as an 'eighteen' year old. I'm not worried about money. Not worried at all.

I got in my Charger and drove. I just drove. When I got to the interstate, I took the exit that said South. I figure that I could start over. I'd been a little fucking puppet too long. It got old after the first week...then I found out that he was a vampire...then there was the shit with James...then the Volturi...yada yada yada. I'm not 'little fragile human innocent Bella'...not by a long shot. There were reasons that Edward couldn't read my mind. He always overlooked me. If he hadn't, he would know that even if he left, I would never be quite normal.

Normalcy is just a term used by parents when they're mad at you for dying your hair pink. Normalcy isn't even normal. Achieving normalcy is like achieving perfection...impossible. Not the kind of impossible that your teachers say that even though obstacles are in the way, you can still do the 'impossible'. Everybody has their own dirty little secret that they would be mortified if it ever got out. There isn't absolute perfection...besides...that would be boring.

My dirty little secret is that I'm immortal. In fact, I'm a type of vampire. Not the sparkly, animal hunting, indestructible kind. Those aren't even real vampires. They're called Venicio. They were created to protect us. The real vampires. Though, I guess you could call them vampires. I mean, they have the whole blood drinking thing down. All those silly Venicio thought it was my blood that smelled so good. Ha, it was the stolen blood from the very hospital that Carlisle works at. My kind is called Vampira. Vampires can't detect us unless we make others aware of our presence. That whole 'aww, look, she's so cute, she just fell and broke her face,' thing was just an act for them not to detect my inhuman grace. And the blushing, common side effect from drinking blood. I'm the last of my kind. The very last. I mean the only fucking one. Hell, the Volturi doesn't even know what I am. We're like humans, just more. A little bit less powerful than the Venicio, but still soft, warm and breakable.

Around 1860, when I was reborn, every vampire was required to have a Venicio. Mine was a very sweet girl, named Charlotte. That stupid bitch, Maria deValez, took her from me around the time of the southern vampire wars. I nearly asked Jasper about her, but I really didn't want to upset him. Despite common belief, Jasper was my best friend out of the Cullens. To be truthful, we grew up together. In the 1800's, our mothers were best friends and he can barely remember me, but I was there. I remember crying, waiting for him to come home. To change his mind and not join the army. It was awful when he never did. I'd bet the melted wax is still on the window sill from where I left a candle in his window every night. My best friend in the whole world never came home. He was the reason I was changed when I was. I went looking for him at the army barracks. Never found him, but a vampire did find me, a terrified little girl, whose blood smelled mighty fine.

Cars blurred past and I flipped some jackass off. He was obviously trying to get me to race. Fucker. "Alright, Jersey Boy, wanna race? You got yourself a fucking race." I smiled, already pissed off. I hit the turbo switch on my dash and blew right past him. His face was priceless. Beat by a little girl. Ha!

My phone rang. Jasper. "Hello, Emo-Boy." I heard his chuckle. "Bellaboo. Where are you?" There was an underlying worry to his voice. "I'm gone. I can't take it anymore. I'm sorry, Jazz. It's just too much for me. I mean, Edward can't make it through an entire sentence without worrying about my safety. It drives me crazy!"

"Bella." He sighed.

"Jasper." I mocked. I really shouldn't because I know he loves me and wants me to be okay, but I just can't help it. "Don't do anything stupid and promise that you'll visit." See, now, that vampire knew me. He knows that after I make up my mind, it won't be changed. He knows that I'm leaving and going by myself. Hell, he knows that I can take care of myself better than a lot of the 'vampires' out there.

"I will, don't worry about that. I love you, Em, Esme and Carlisle too much to leave without so much as a fucking visit every once and a while."

"Goodbye, Bells. Love you."

"Goodbye is permanent. Try a 'See ya later' on for size. Love ya, Jazz."

I wiped away a stray tear. Jasper was the only one, save for Carlisle, that knew exactly what and who I was. My real name is Isabella Marie Alistair...169 year old vampire...