Summary: Renesmee, now Nessie Taylor, was given up for adoption at birth, and has spent all 12 years of her life at an orphanage. She believes she can find her parents through music. Can she do it? Or is she just crazy like everyone else tells her?

Disclaimer: I own nothing :) This is my second Twilight story, and I hope you enjoy it. This disclaimer carries out for the entire story.

Chapter 1: Music

I lay in a clearing near a beautiful pond, cloaked in trees and high grass – hidden from the rest of the world. I lay quietly: my body motionless, eyes closed, just listening. Always listening. I hear the constant splash in the water as the ancient koi fish make their tails glide - an ever present reminder that there is life in this magical place. I hear the swish of the tall grass as the wind causes it to collide with weeds and falling leaves, thrusting it forcefully side to side. I hear the music most people don't get the chance to experience. We over power nature's music by filling every moment of silence with useless chatter… or we ignore it, finding that handheld technology is more important. I was never privileged enough to have such things, but something tells me I wouldn't have used it even if I was. I am happy here, in my makeshift meadow, with nature as my personal I-pod. The music is always there. We just have to listen.

My name is Renesmee Taylor, but I go by Nessie. I'm twelve years old, and I live at Forks Home for Orphaned Girls; I know, it's a mouthful. The home is located in Forks, Washington – one of the gloomiest towns in the entire U.S. It is always overcast and rains three hundred and fifty five days of the year, and snows the other ten. Everything here is green, forever retaining life from the never ending food source falling from the sky. I don't worry too much, though. I won't be living here long. My parents and I will be reunited soon enough. My parents were musicians… I can feel it, it comes naturally. It's the reason I love music. When I'm alone, it builds up inside of me. I believe if I can just… learn how to play it… they would hear. My parents would know, I'm here – and I'm theirs. Music has always had that ability – to bring people together. Why is this situation any different?

Everyone tries to keep me from it. It's useless, my parents are dead. They never wanted me. I'm a mistake, that's why I'm here. How could a stupid group of notes bring anyone back to anyone? It makes absolutely no sense, they say. Everyone at the home thinks I'm crazy… except for Emily. She's the only other person who believes my parents are somewhere out there – still looking for me. Then again, everyone thinks she is crazy too…

Emily is the cook at the home – at least that is what she is paid for. In actuality, she practically runs the place by herself with the occasional good deed from two ladies, who are never around long enough for any of us to learn the names. Emily is the one who makes sure we are fed, bathed, and well rested. Emily is the one who stays up with us all night after we had nightmares or a particularly bad case of the flu. She's the closest any of us have ever come to having a mother, and no one would dare try to deny it.

The other girls don't like her much because the right side of her face is scarred with three thick red lines from the hair line to the tip of her chin. The other girls claim it's because she is the devil's bride or something stupid like that. The truth is she had an unfortunate encounter with a wild dog, which are more like wolves around here… It could've happened to anyone.

The over cast sky begins to darken – signaling the time for my trek home, before the night turns everything black, making it nearly impossible to see a hand in front of one's face. I also have to honor my agreement with Emily. I'm allowed to leave to my little meadow (even though she doesn't know exactly where I go, just that I'm safe), as long as I return before twilight. I would really hate to be on her bad side…

~O~

I make it on time. I smell the oil heating up in the pan as dinner is about to be made. I hear our cook moving around the kitchen, no doubt to make sure for the umpteenth time that her ingredients are in order. I'm greeted, as usual, with a rude remark from a group of girls whose goals in life are to make the others feel miserable. Today it is Jessica – a shallow dirty blonde with an average face and slender build. She is backed by Lauren, who looks similar except her face is covered in self-caused freckle looking spots from when she had chicken pocks at age five, and ignored Emily's warning not to scratch. Victoria, the leader of this group, sits back in her chair on the porch; her wild red hair moving like a fire does its flames. She could be beautiful, if she would change her face to an expression that is not a scowl or glare – she intimidates most of us here.

"Look girls! The freak finally emerges from the wilderness. I don't know why she even bothers coming back; she fits in better with those animals than she does here." Jessica sneers at me again.

Victoria flicks her hair, as they all laugh, and smirks at me, "Maybe next time she goes, she can bring Emily, and we'd be freed from all the freaks in our lives!" and they all laugh again. I can feel all the glares and waves of annoyance as I walk passed them without any acknowledgement or a sign that I had in some way, been affected. Their petty comments have long since become old.

I enter the house, already heading to the kitchen to announce my arrival and offer my help in cooking or setting the table. Emily smiles as she accepts telling me about a surprise after dinner. I tell her about my day, and hum a little melody I made while I listened to the koi. Emily is delighted. She loves all of my songs, even though I never put any lyrics to them. She says I have this ability to create images as I sing, like today she predicted I was humming about a fish or water flowing.

Dinner passes without incident. All the girls line up as usual and get their meals, helping the younger ones get theirs. The room is filled with chatter about a random topic. Emily makes her usual rounds, making sure that everyone is eating – we always do because her food is amazing. Then she sits next to me and we eat together in silence – listening to those who talk. This is what is normal. Emily and I clear off tables and do dishes after everyone has gone back to their rooms.

My surprise is a giant wind chime strung together with several smaller ones. I'm not sure how it works until she takes me outside and holds it out to the sky. She shows me how the wind makes them clash together and create beautiful sounds. It works in harmony with the sway of the tress and the rain falling from the clouds.

"It makes beautiful songs, just like you Nessie." Emily smiles down at me.

She tells me it was one of her favorite "toys" she loved when she was a young girl, living in La Push, the Indian reservation a few miles away from Forks. Her mother would sing along with the chimes. She spends a few hours trying to teach me a couple of songs she remembered. I admire her mother – the melodies were complex, but with the perfect balance of everything that makes a song beautiful. It was part of the reason that anyone could listen to it a million and three times and find something different in each one – truly incredible. I thank her before she sends me off to bed, finally noticing the time.

"You're going to have a long day tomorrow. Sam Uley is coming down." She says to me.

Sam is from La Push like Emily. He is a social worker for Child Protective Services and comes by periodically to make sure we are all properly taken care of – of course we are because Emily is our care-taker. Sam used to come by with the serious face and judgmental eyes, but since he has seen how well off we are here, it's become more of a social visit more than anything else. She refuses to admit it, but Sam has a thing for Emily. I see it in the way he stares at her. She's not much of a victim in this romance either, whenever he notifies her of his arrival (always a week in advance), it is the only thing she talks about until about two weeks after he has left. It's been a while since I've seen that look of excitement in her eyes. One day, I tell myself, one day they will see it. When it does happen, I'll happily give a very smug look and childishly proclaim 'I told you so'.

Then I fall asleep to the old wind chime song from La Push, and dream of my parents and me in the audience of Sam and Emily's wedding.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this. I hope you stick around for next chapter. Questions? Comments? Concerns? Thoughts? Leave me a review.

~RenaJ159