Carving Messages: Martini Rosalynn Swan

A/N: All rights go to Stephanie Meyer, the ultimate person as she inspired all of this, she is amazing and gets credit for anything involving her characters. Martini, is my own character, I would rather you not steal her. Unless, you have permission from me. Thank you, please read and enjoy the story! It's a working progress so bare with me on this. I will update the chapters as often as possible, if you have any idea's or advice comment. I would love to hear from my readers!

Twitter: MysteriousPast

Gliding on past: Chapter one

Y'know there is always that one moment. That one second when you are trapped in one stand-point. That time when you wish you could start over. Fade away? Maybe even change something? Well, I know I seem to always be in that moment. No matter how hard I try, seems like I can never move forward, never get out.

I could pace up and down these hallways and wonder what it was I had done wrong, or I could stand still and allow myself to become someone I am not. These hallways, the ones that are filled with my past, things that still haunt me, things that torture my every movement and judgment, so yes, I have a past one I wish that never went down. Yet who can actually go back and change their past? No one, that's right. What happened in my past was only dependent on my parents; Charlie, and Clarise Swan.

Clarise Anne Swan…there isn't much I could use to describe her other than words of scorn that I have for her. Every memory I can recall of her is one that involves her making me wish things I never should have. As a child she would always tell me how the only reason she would hit me with a switch when I had only done small things wrong was because I was born on a Devil's day. Halloween, who knew that a holiday such as Halloween could cause someone to suffer as much as she made me? I went on thinking that what she had told me was true for a long period of time before I eventually caught on to what she was really doing. She was punishing me for living. For being alive.

It took me till my 18th birthday to figure out just why she was doing this, why she was acting so cruel towards me. Her own child, her very own flesh and blood. I met my older sister, Isabella on this day; she is who told me of how my mother never desired to have a child. How she never wanted me from the start, and there would be nothing I could ever do to change that. Of course, just one more thing I can't control. So, here I sat on my front porch in Louisiana trying to contemplate on how to apologize to my mother for something even I could control. How though? How do you apologize for being conceived? I sat in silence for well over three hours trying to understand this…all of it.

As the seconds became minutes and minutes became hours I still couldn't figure this out. None of it made any sense to me. How can someone, a woman, hate her own child? How is it humanly possible? I tried as best as I could to understand from her point of view why she felt this way. Why she thought that she should punish me for being able to walk and breathe on this Earth, although, once it was made clear to me why she treated me this way I wished I hadn't made her life this living hell. For some reason I couldn't forgive myself for doing this to her, I just couldn't no matter how hard I tried. I slowly began to look up at the sky as I heard something within me telling me I would have to learn to let things go, to be my own person, and to not be afraid to stand up to my mother and allow her to know that I knew why she was so cruel towards me. To give her a peace into my mind on my feelings for once, something I had wanted to do so many times.

This fact of her having never anticipated at any point my being born bothered me, especially with the facts on my father and my name. Martini…think about it, who in their right mind names a person Martini? Maybe this had to do with my father being a drug addict and an alcoholic. However, if you talk to my dad on this he will just tell you it's merely another 'issue' that he has with the 'world'. I never believed that shit from the moment he told that to Isabella and I. God, how stupid did they think I was? No, I wasn't like my sister Bella who managed to find a man, and get married, but hell, at least I was myself and real. I never did half the shit Bella did but I have done more successful things, but they can't look at that. No. They only see my faults, my own mistakes, and issues.

I have my high points and my lows just like any other person on this planet. I don't give a damn whether or not you are human or a vampire, I have my talents. You have yours, never though has my mother or my family asked me how I was doing or how my life was. If they did they would know certain things about me, they would know how I feel on my life at this point, at this time. My awkward stand-point, my hard hitting news, the news that my sister would hate; Bella never could understand how I was so great with children, nor could our mother. I guess it skips a generation…or two. I know it's wrong and all to go against family, but you don't understand how hard this is. How much it kills me on the inside to push my family from me, to never allow my guard down when around them. It's like walking into a strange place and seeing everyone around you single you out, like you're always and constantly under attack. Except times it by thirty-seven, then you will have my position.

Blue as the sea, my eyes looked around the room that once belonged to me as a child. My small, dainty hand gracing along the outer shelf of my old white and yellow colored book-case, one that I had filled with pages that I, myself wrote. Something that I loved to do, write, I couldn't seem to stop whenever I started, I would sit back on my bed and just write. It was my way of blocking out my mothers horrid screams at my father to "get off his ass, and take care of his family", but wasn't that her job? To some point I could reason with my mother, but on others I would side with my father. As a mother you are supposed to take care of, and protect your children. Something my mother was never capable of accomplishing. It's as if that ability vanquished the moment I was conceived. Oh, I heard stories about the, "happy times" around my family, you know, that time when it was only Charlie, Clarise, and Bella. Yeah, welcome to my world, welcome to how I feel.