Author's note: Okay, the majority of this I got directly from Stephenie Meyer's Midnight Sun(the downloadable one on her website). I'm trying to make it original, but know that I'll get lazy and slip in some paragraphs straight from Stephenie Meyer's work(I'll have these be underlined; hey, it's just beginning, don't blame me for wanting to skip the boring parts, besides, i've tailored some to my own purposes...hehe...) I PROMISE THAT MY NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE ALL MOI!
1. First Sight
This was the time of day when I wished I were able to sleep.
High school.
Or was purgatory the right word? If there was any way to atone for my sins, this ought to count toward the tally in some measure. The tedium was not something I grew used to; every day seemed more impossibly monotonous than the last.
I suppose this was my form of sleep-if sleep was defined as the inert state between active periods.
I stared at the cracks running through the plaster in the far corner of the cafeteria, imagining patterns into them that were not there. It was one way to tune out the voices that babbled like the gush of a river inside my head.
There was a new girl that had been added to the student body. She seemed ordinary enough to me. The males were already imagining love because she was something new to look at, to experience. She was new, yes, but still plain and ordinary.
Only four voices did I block out of courtesy rather than distaste: my family, my two brothers and two sisters, who were so used to the lack of privacy in my presence that they rarely gave it a thought. I gave them what privacy I could. I tried not to listen if I could help it.
Try as I may, still...I knew.
Rosalie was, as usual, thinking about herself and admiring herself in the reflection off someone's glasses. Emmett was brooding over a wrestling match he'd lost to Jasper during the night. And Jasper...
...was suffering.
Alice called my name, asking how Jasper was. We were able to have private conversations, and I answered her in the typical yes or no fashion that we had. I was glad that I couldn't speak to her aloud. What would I say?
Two weeks had passed since our last hunting trip.
Jasper was very dangerous now.
At that moment, a small girl paused at the end of the closest table to ours, stopping to talk to a friend. She tossed her short, sandy hair, running her fingers through it. The heaters blew her scent in out direction. I was used to the way that scent made me feel-the dry ache in my throat, the hollow yearn in my stomach, the automatic tightening of my muscles, the excess flow of venom in my mouth...
And my brother was letting his imagination run. He was imagining himself going over, as if to murmur in her ear, and then-
I kicked his chair. Our gazes met, and then, he looked down. I could hear his mind having a civil war.
"Sorry," Jasper muttered.
I shrugged.
Alice tried to smooth things over, but Jasper denied her that. He turned his gaze to the small windows under the eaves around the long room. So Alice stood, knowing that Jasper was in no mood to continue, and left.
Edward Cullen.
My eyes flicked to the sound of my name being called. To me, thoughts are like words spoken aloud. But I knew this was a thought.
My eyes locked on a pair of wide, chocolate-brown eyes surrounded by a heart-shaped face. I'd been seeing the face all day, though I'd never laid eyes on it before that moment. Every human had been thinking of it-her, really. Isabella Swan, the only daughter and child of police chief Charles Swan. She preferred the nickname "Bella"...
I looked away, bored. It took me a second to realize that she had not been the one to think my name.
Of course she's already crushing on the Cullens, I heard the first thought continue.
The thoughts originated from Jessica Stanley-it had been a while since her internal chatter had pestered me. It was incredibly relieving when she'd overcome her infatuation with me. I'd wished, at the time, that I could explain to her exactly what would have happened if my lips, and the teeth behind them, had gotten anywhere near her. That would have silenced those annoying fantasies. The thought of her reaction almost made me smile.
Fat lot of good it will do her, Jessica went on. She's really not even pretty. I don't know why Eric is staring so much...or Mike.
She mentally cringed on the last name-her new infatuation. Mike Newton may be blind to Jessica, but to Bella he was most certainly not. This put a mean edge to Jessica's thoughts, though she was outwardly cordial to the newcomer as she explained to her the commonly held knowledge about my family.
I tried to block the inane chatter out of my head before the petty and the trivial could drive me mad.
"Jessica Stanley is giving the new Swan girl all the dirty laundry on the Cullen clan," I murmured to Emmett as a distraction.
He chuckled under his breath. I hope she's making it good, he thought.
"Rather unimaginative, actually. Just the barest hint of scandal. Not an ounce of horror. I'm a little disappointed."
And the new girl? Is she disappointed in the gossip as well?
I listened to hear what this new girl, Bella, thought of Jessica's story. What did she see when she looked at the strange, chalky-skinned family that was universally avoided?
It was my responsibility to know this girl and her reaction. I was the lookout. If someone suspected or guessed correctly at our true nature, I was the one to warn our family. We disappeared in the hopes of becoming nothing but a scary, paranoid memory.
As I listened, I heard nothing. I was listening intently beside Jessica's internal monologue continued to fathom. How peculiar. Had the girl moved?That didn't seem likely, as Jessica was still babbling to her. I looked up to check, feeling off-balance. Checking on what my extra 'hearing' could tell me-it wasn't something I ever had to do.
Again, my gaze locked on those same wide brown eyes. Yet this time, something registered. There was something off about those eyes. She was looking at us as Jessica was still oozing the local gossip about the Cullen clan. Thinking about us would be normal.
But I couldn't hear a whisper.
Inviting warm red stained her cheeks as she looked down, away from the embarrassing gaffe of getting caught staring at a stranger. It was good that Jasper was still gazing out the window. I didn't like to imagine what that easy pooling of blood would do to his control.
The emotions had been as clear on her face as if they were spelled out in words across her forehead: surprise, as she unknowingly absorbed the signs of the subtle differences between her kind and mine, curiosity, as she listened to Jessica's tale, and something more...fascination? It wouldn't be the first time. We were beautiful to them, our intended prey. Then, finally, embarrassment as I caught her staring at me.
Her brown eyes were odd. Brown eyes often seem flat for their darkness. Yet hers were deep and almost mesmerizing somehow. She blinked slowly, and I noted that her eyes gave me the impression of a feline.
Though her emotions had been so clear in her odd eyes, I could hear nothing but silence from the place she was sitting. Nothing at all.
I felt a moment of unease.
Not once in my lifetime had I ever not heard a mind. Had something changed in me? I felt fine-the exact same as I always did. I listened harder.
All the voices I'd been blocking were suddenly shouting in my head.
...wonder what music she likes...maybe I could mention that new CD...Mike Newton was thinking, two tables away-fixated on Bella Swan.
Look at him staring at her. Isn't it enough that he has half the girls in school waiting for him to...Eric Yorkie was thinking sulfurous thoughts, also revolving around the girl.
...so disgusting. You'd think she was famous or something...Even Edward Cullen, staring...Lauren Mallory was so jealous that her face, by all rights, should be dark jade in color. And Jessica, flaunting her new best friend. What a joke...Vitriol continued to spew from the girl's thoughts.
...I bet everyone has asked her that. But I'd like to talk to her. I'll think of a more original question...Ashley Dowling mused.
...maybe she'll be in my Spanish...June Richardson hoped.
...tons left to do tonight! Trig, and the English test. I hope my mom...Angela Weber, a quiet girl, whose thoughts were unusually kind, was the only one at the table who wasn't obsessed with Bella.
In horror films, there is often a sound effect of the main character being surrounded. This is accomplished by a whispering far ahead, a snapping of a twig from behind, or a ghostly breath.
It was much like that when I finally caught her mind. It was so quiet, I could barely catch it, and when I did, it was gone again. How was it moving? And it didn't sound like any language I knew-although, it was too quiet for me to really pin any distinct sounds, much less language. I was almost getting dizzy from chasing the internal voice.
I, of course, could hear what the girl said when she spoke to Jessica. I didn't have to read minds to be able to hear her low, clear voice on the far side of the long room.
"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I heard her ask, sneaking a look at me from the corner of her eye, only to look quickly away when she saw that I was still staring.
Usually, peoples' thoughts are a similar pitch to their physical voices. Yet her physical voice didn't help me catch her mental one.
Oh, good luck, idiot! Jessica thought before answering the girl's question. "That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed.
I turned my head away to hide my smile. Jessica and her classmates had no idea how lucky they were that none of them particularly appealed to me.
Beneath the transient humor, I felt a strange impulse, one I did not clearly understand. It had something to do with the vicious edge to Jessica's thoughts that the new girl was unaware of...I felt the strangest urge to step in between them, to shield this Bella Swan from the darker workings of Jessica's mind. What an odd thing to feel. Trying to ferret out the motivations behind the impulse, I examined the new girl one more time.
Compared to her classmates, the girl was fine china to wood. My impulse could easily be the strong for the weak instinct. My eyes traveled over her. I could see the pulsing of her blood through her veins beneath her skin...but I shouldn't dwell on that.
It was unbelievably frustrating! I could clearly see that it was a strain for her to sit there, to make conversation with strangers, to be the center of attention. I could sense her shyness from the way she held her frail-looking shoulders, slightly hunched, as if she was expecting a rebuff at any moment. And yet I could only sense, could only see, could only imagine. There was nothing but silence from the very unexceptional human girl. I could hear nothing. Why?
"Shall we?" Rosalie murmured, interrupting my focus.
I tore my gaze from the girl in shame. I didn't like to develop interest in her or fail at my mind reading. No doubt, when I did decipher her thoughts-and I would find a way to do so-they would be just as petty and trivial as any human's thoughts. Not worth the effort I would expend to reach them.
"What's with the new one? Is she scared yet?" Emmett asked, waiting for my response. I shrugged, and he didn't press for more information. We got up from the table and walked out of the cafeteria.
I slouched off to my biology class. Would the monotony never end? In the little classroom, I let my books spill across the table. I was the only student with a table to himself: humans aren't smart enough to know they fear me, but instinct will tell them to steer clear whenever possible. The room filled slowly-almost reluctantly.
Bella seems just as shy as me. I'll bet today is really hard for her. I wish I could say something...but it would probably just sound stupid... Angela Weber's thoughts came into my mind.
Yes! Mike Newton thought, turning in his seat to watch the girls enter.
Yet where Bella stood, nothing. Her thoughts were like backwards electrons. Instead of being right next to the nucleus, they were as far out as they could get. But they were hard to catch a whisper, much less find them.
She came closer, walking down the aisle beside me to get to the teacher's desk. Poor girl; the seat next to me was the only one available. I moved my books aside. Perhaps, though, sitting beside her, I'd be able to flush out her secrets...not that I'd ever needed close proximity before...not that I would find anything worth listening to...
Bella Swan walked into the flow of the heated air that blew toward me from the vent.
Her scent hit me like a drunk driver, like Emmett's huge fist, like a million knives in my body. Her thoughts whirled around me. I was surrounded.
All traces, all hints of human consciousness vanished. My humanity was gone. I was a predator on the hunt, and she was my prey. The calculations had begun. The witnesses were already collateral damage, her odd eyes were no longer such, her mysterious disappearing thoughts were no longer important.
She would not go on thinking them much longer.
Thirst burned me with a torturous fire in my throat. Venom welled in my mouth. My muscles coiled in anticipation of springing.
Not a full second had passed. She was still taking the same step that had put her downwind from me.
As her foot touched the ground, her eyes slid toward me, a movement she clearly meant to be stealthy. Her glance met mine, and I saw myself reflected in the wide mirror of her eyes.
What I saw in her eyes saved her life.
She didn't make it easier. When she processed the expression on my face, blood flooded her cheeks again, turning her skin the most delicious color I'd ever seen. The scent was a thick haze in my brain. I could barely think through it. My thoughts raged, resisting control, incoherent. She walked more quickly now, as if she understood the need to escape. Her haste made her clumsy-she tripped and stumbled forward, almost falling into the girl seated in front of me. Vulnerable, weak. Even more than usual for a human.
I tried to focus on what I'd seen in her eyes.
The first, most obvious, was the face, a face I recognized with revulsion and hate. The face of the monster in me-the face I'd beaten back with decades of effort and uncompromising discipline. The second was nearly undetectable, almost an afterthought.
Her irises were slightly slitted like a cat's, and her eyes were most definitely in the almond shape of a cat.
The scent swirled around me with the dizzying thoughts, scattering those decades of discipline and resistance, nearly pulling me to this girl.
No.
My hand gripped under the edge of the table as I tried to hold myself in my chair. The wood was not up to the task. My hand crushed through the strut and came away with a palmful of splintered pulp, leaving the shape of my fingers carved into the remaining wood.
Destroy evidence. That was a fundamental rule. I quickly pulverized the edges of the shape with my fingertips, leaving nothing but a ragged hole and a pile of shavings on the floor, which I scattered with my foot.
Destroy evidence. Collateral damage...
Twenty innocents...I hadn't killed an innocent before, but now I was plotting to kill twenty at once...
The face of the monster in the mirror mocked me.
If I killed the girl first, I would have only fifteen or twenty seconds with her before the humans in the room would react. Maybe a little bit longer, if at first they did not realize what I was doing. She would not have time to scream or feel pain; I would not kill her cruelly. That much I could give this stranger with her horribly desirable blood.
But then I would have to stop them from escaping. I wouldn't have to worry about the windows, too high up and small to provide an escape for anyone. Just the door-block that and they were trapped.
It would be slower and more difficult, trying to take them all down when they were panicked and scrambling, moving into chaos. Not impossible, but there would be much more noise. Time for lots of screaming. Someone would hear...and I'd be forced to kill even more innocents in this black hour.
And her blood would cool, while I murdered the others.
So the witnesses first then.
I mapped it out in my head. I was in the middle of the room, the furthest row in the back. I would take my right side first. I could snap four or five of their necks per second, I estimated. It would be noisy. The right side would be the lucky side; they would not see me coming. Moving around the front and back up the left side, it would take me, at most, five seconds to end every life in this room.
Long enough for Bella Swan to see, with those feline eyes, briefly, what was coming for her. Long enough for her to feel fear. Long enough, maybe, if shock didn't freeze her in place, for her to work up a scream. One soft scream that would not bring anyone running.
She was coming back, and the fire urged me to put my plan into action. She would sit down inches from me, and it would be then that I would kill the children to my right. The monster in my head smiled in anticipation.
Suddenly, fresh, clean air filled my lungs. I didn't know who had sent it my way or how, but it brought on a wave of clarity. It was then that I saw the face of the monster within me and Carlisle's face. There was no resemblance between the two faces. They were bright day and blackest night.
There was no reason for there to be a resemblance. The similarity in the color of our eyes was another matter-a reflection of a mutual choice. And yet, though there was no basis for a resemblance, I'd imagined that my face had begun to reflect his, to an extent. My features had not changed, but it seemed to me like some of his wisdom had marked my expression, that a little of his compassion could be traced in the shape of my mouth, and hints of his patience were evident on my brow.
All of what I had gained would be lost in a matter of seconds and stay lost, forever.
I knew that Carlisle would not judge me. My choice would hurt him deeply, but he would forgive me and love me anyway.
Bella Swan sat down in the chair, and her scent once again tortured me. The misery of what I was going to do and the hurt I would cause hurt almost as much as the fire in my throat. I leaned away in disgust.
Why did she have to exist? Why had this aggravating human ever been born? She would ruin me. I turned my face away from her, as a sudden fierce, unreasoning. hatred washed through me.
Who was this creature?
Why had she come here!
I didn't want to be the monster! I didn't want to kill this room full of harmless children! I didn't want to lose everything I'd gained in a lifetime of sacrifice and denial!
I wouldn't. She couldn't make me.