Let me introduce you to the first character you have to know. Bella and Edward and everyone else coming in the following chapter.
Reviews would be great. Hope you like the story. It has mystery, adventure, secrets and love, too, yes!
Disclamer: I DO NOT own any Twilight related character. I do own the rights of the rest of the characters.
CHAPTER 1 - Winter Sun
Hadn't I known my father so good, I would've thought he was eager to have me away from home.
Away, very away. Let's call 4,261 miles 'away', the distance there was from my British London to the American Alaska.
He had sorted out forms and boring bureaucracy stuff for me to be accepted in the Alaska University.
Not that I wasn't happy about it - I've always been intrigued by the extreme temperatures of that state, as well as the penguins - but it all came of a sudden, allowing me little room to think through it twice.
Dean, my dad, knew what kind of enigmatic attraction I felt for the wet and cold areas. And they knew it just when I was born, hence my name, 'Winter'.
As strange for a name as it is, I'm terribly in debt with my parents for it because it could describe at least a part of what I am.
My other part was Sun, my middle name, for what I'm not so in debt with them - the most of the people read my name fully, 'Winter Sun', meaning it like Sun of Winter, but that's not the case, they're separated; a slip my parents didn't ponder upon earlier.
Even that, Sun is absolutely another frame that wraps what I am. So that's why, after all, my father nicknamed me sometimes as Spring, having both of me within:
"A winter that develops into a summer... You're quite balanced, don't you think?" was one of the reasons he used to add.
Having shared my almost entire life with Dean created a tough bond between us.
My mother died when I was eleven in a traffic accident. It was absolutely devastating for me; it broke my present and became a monster of me, somebody who decided anything was good enough to be cared, to be loved, to die for.
I turned into a reckless teenager with nothing better to do than to start fights, winning all of them, flavoring my own disaster as a total victory.
I can still hear the drops falling down through the gutter when I was coming back home from school with Louise, my best friend, and how the street grew bleaker as I walked it.
I began to run unconsciously forgetting I wasn't alone.
The gate sent a sense of change, and the hall was abruptly dark, playing with my intuition.
All I had was a note from my dad on the fridge, supported by a magnet handmade by me as a gift for my parents when I was five:
"Something's wrong, honey. Call Aunt Hannah as soon as you're back. Dad".
Aunt Hannah was my mothers' twin. A sweet and somehow melancholic girl, stuck in her twenties as she said, with the second deepest eyes in the world, just behind my mother.
"Aunty… it's Winter. Dad left a note saying something's happened…"
I didn't have time to end. She answered coolly, emphatic.
"Yes, dearest. He's at the hospital. Thelma…"
I froze leaning my back on the fridge.
Whenever I heard my mother's name I would freeze, it was an involuntary position because, despite her loving gesture and her perfect composure, her features were constantly talking under their mask - to me, at least -, holding words she'd never speak out, some kind of farewell warning.
"Mum? What's wrong with mum?" I spoke over her voice.
"I'm going your home. Five minutes, honey."
"No! Tell me!"
She finally fell and followed my mood. But there was something in her voice, the tone, that made it sound as if she was bothered.
"Don't… don't cry. Don't worry, I'm with you. Hold on, I'm going."
I knew she was the only one coming back home, except for dad, who didn't come back completely.
I couldn't see her, nor in the hospital, nor afterwards. Dean said it wasn't necessary and that I should go on with the forever-smiling face memory of her.
My dad also collapsed. He never turned to be the man he used to be, he was a shadow of his past. I actually think he kept living just because I kept living. But, even though he didn't go insane or would speak about my mother, sometimes seemed he didn't believe Thelma was long gone, saving her clothes and her photos in the same state they were before she passed away. His eyes looked older, and hopeful.
When I reached fourteen, life gave me another change. Or so I thought.
I got stronger and faster, much stronger and much faster than any average child as well as any non-average child, due probably to all the hits delivered here and there; but I stopped frustrating my father's days, refusing to keep the monster in me alive.
Instead, I got enrolled in my school swimming team, after a thousand of requests from my teachers. That would be a good score to note down in my university paper forms.
However, despite my achievement, Dean didn't have the same opinion about my new status.
"That's not weird of you, you've always been strong and fast…" - dramatic silence for me to remember his ordeal – "And I'm not sure if you should do your best against the other kids. It's not fair."
"Why isn't that fair? They do their best, I do the same, and then I'm better. Congratulate me at least, no? I don't understand your worry."
"You won't be overcome, never. There's no playground for the others."
"I know I'm your daughter and you have that parental conviction of me, but why are you so sure? I can be overcome at any time."
"That's why, because I'm your father."
"Still. I don't get it."
"You will."
He wasn't wrong. Anybody overcome me.
And now, about to face the nineteen, having desired the total freedom, I felt stepping back to my child era, with fears and doubts for leaving all this behind.
My dad, though, wasn't reluctant to my new life ahead. He'd been telling everyone how fantastic I was because I was travelling abroad to start over from scratch in a different city, country and continent.
"He's just happy for me. In a creepy grand way, but happy. It's what I wanted, what I want. Don't be afraid now, he'll miss you too" were the repetitive thoughts I kept in mind.
"Dad" I called him out from the backdoor.
He was wearing a homemaker mode for the last two months, and now it was the backyard who was tasting his gardening skills.
- "What, my Alaskan lady?" answered, full smile on.
I sighed and walked towards where he was, sitting in the old wooden bench.
"Not too much. I wanted to ask you something… out of curiosity. And, please, don't be mad at me. It's curiosity, really".
His smile faded a bit as he stood to sit by my side.
"Now I'm the curious one. Tell me, I thought we were past the fear or shyness for asking, honey."
"We are, but it can sound wrong."
He eyed me with a gentle and patient smile across his face. His gaze was warm, kind of liquid trapped in his dark eyes.
"Well… are you that happy for me leaving to Alaska?" the question didn't certainly sound so wrong in the end, and that wasn't my intention. I wished it would've risen from a concern tone and, instead, it was dull.
His eyes twisted to show the full smile on again. So I had failed at my concern attempt.
"Oh! Are you really asking me that, Spring? Of course I am happy, I'm the happiest man in the United Kingdom."
He looked like he caught my grimace because he got closer to hug me.
"You're not thinking I'm happy because you're leaving, are you?" definitely, he caught it.
"I'm trying not to, but it's weird."
"My happiness is weird? You've been hoping for that acceptance even months before filling it, not to mention your mocking every time I'd try and fill a form for others like Dartmouth."
"Come on, dad, that's not my place. You know it."
"I know it."
"But what about the distance?"
"That'll be my excuse to travel a lot!"
"And… the cold? You're a staunch lover of the Sun."
"But here we are, in the nippy London."
He breathed slowly, transforming it in a sigh and hugged me tighter.
"Don't worry, not for me. I'm very proud of you and you won't regret going there. From my position, I can't fully understand why a young lady would choose Alaska to go over all the other open doors you had; but, from your position, I can understand it. You love those landscapes and you'll be a great science Journalist."
He was very good at convincing me.
* * *
Of course, everyone in the neighborhood knew of my departure, and so there they were, down our front door staircase, awaiting to jump on me and cover me with their goodbye's and have a safe trip's.
Dean carried the luggage out of the house and into the car while I was finishing checking everything had been taken care of.
"Okay, so… Cell phone, camera, money, ID, passport and ticket are in the bag. And, yeah, I'm dressed. All done."
I took a look around the purple walls, the black and white photos hung, the bed and the soft grey quilt over it, the built-in wardrobe mirrors' doors and held the sight there watching how the girl stared.
Her hair seemed to be screaming with the light chocolate curls taking over her shoulders. A pair of two big olive-brown eyes danced down and up the curves of the girl, hidden behind a loose purple t-shirt and yellow jeans, until they explored themselves.
"I wish I was born with my mother's eyes" I said quietly.
Not because of the color, but their intense and profound well of magnetism.
Honk, honk.
Horn meant lateness. My time in London was over.
Side Note: Enough to set the first chapter. It's important to know this character *wink wink*
Also, I'll use British language here and there, not too much, just a few words.
And don't fret! Known characters coming in the next chapter, I promise. But I need to know there's somebody reading to put up a second chapter!
So what do you guys think? Reviews highly appreciated.
Thank you :)