I own none of this. Stephanie Meyer owns all rights and characters. I just like to play around (:

Full Summary: He was like an infection that left you paralyzed. She was warned by everyone, but she wanted to be infected by him. He was bad, very bad. She had morals. It was for sure that he would be sent to the pits of burning flames while she soared above the sky with the angels. It was a dark, forbidden romance. She knew she could end up hurt… possibly dead. But she couldn't help the burning feeling she got whenever he touched her.


The sharp, jagged edges scraped against her long, frozen fingers as they smoothed across the blunt surface of the harsh concrete that was molded into a robust rectangle before her. The snowy wintery mix that cascaded the December season made her shiver with chills. Her nose was red from the arctic freeze. She wore a black toboggan that flattened her chocolate brown locks and a matching suede black coat that stretched below her jean clad waist. The callous scenery of the scene that she stood in reminded her of the mind-boggling events that had taken place no longer than two months ago. She wasn't sure if she was thankful for the incidents or distraught by them. An event like this only made her reminisce on the cruelties of her reality. Maybe she wasn't meant to be happy.

The spelled out lettering on the solid four-sided figure she was gazing upon reflected a tear, making it escape from her right eye. She'd never regret anything, not one single thing in her life. She made it clear to herself, clenching her teeth and chanting the words aloud as if she might forget. But she never would. She couldn't.

The quietness of the exterior gave her comfort. That's one thing she always remembered about her father was he always liked the quiet; especially in the mornings whenever he wanted to read the morning paper. That could always bring a smile to her face. But here, now, while visiting his grave, it didn't help… not one bit. Nothing could bring her happiness at this moment while she portrayed images in her mind of the events that traveled through her intelligence. Her life flashed before her eyes many times. She came to realize that nothing was ever in her control. Her future was never in her control. It was all planned for her. She should be the one lying in a grave six feet under right now. Not him. Not after everything he'd done for her.

She wondered if anyone else could ever feel this way. Feeling like you've hit, not rock bottom, but the epitome of darkness where you never return from. Getting there was a trip. Getting back would be hell. She didn't have any strength left in her. She was drained and weak; wretched and damaged to never be repaired.

But that was life wasn't it? That's what life was all about- never being fair; taking from you whenever it pleased and never giving back?

Life never has a happy ending, and, folks neither does this story.

~X~

It's not that I didn't like the rain, but I'd always fancied the sun. I appreciated the way it descended upon the heavens, making a silver lining around the fluffy pillow clouds on a warm, sunny and breezy day. To me, it didn't just illuminate the sky, but it brightened my day as well. A person would probably laugh at me if I said that aloud. I even laughed at myself sometimes at how cliché it sounded. But it was true. I could always find myself on a sunny day lying down on a blanket of green lost in a reverie as I gaped at the elucidated canvas above me. However, I only found myself staring into the blinding work of art whenever it contradicted the way I really felt that day.

Whenever I was younger my family and I use to go on picnics. My mom, dad, and I would travel through the woods on a day that it didn't rain at my house. See, where I lived when I was younger it rained… a lot. There never was really a sunny day which resulted in me never being able to do anything outside. So, whenever I got the chance to go out and enjoy a nice summer day, I took advantage of it. We rarely went on picnics, but when we did we made the most of it because that was our family time. My dad worked a lot and my mom stayed home tending to me.

That was in the past unfortunately. Back then I didn't know any better. I was a little kid. Everything to me was happy. I didn't know that my parents were going through a divorce. Hell, I couldn't even establish what the meaning of the word meant. It wasn't until I was only eight years old that I started to take notice of the changes that were being made in my home. My mom had started to pack things overtime little by little. My parents would speak differently to each other. There wasn't hostility between them like some married couples going through a divorce. There was just the awkward tension in the air that whenever we ate dinner at night the only noises that were made were the metal forks being scraped across the glass plates, maybe a cough here and there.

It wasn't until the last day of school came and I was so excited for summer that it hit me. I busted through the door to my home and ran up the stairs in a parade. I was stopped abruptly by the train of bags and suitcases that aligned themselves in front of my bed. For me being so young, it wasn't the fact that all my stuff was packed in bags before me. It was the fact that it felt like everything was being erased. That was the cue to my heart sinking right out of my chest. I remember walking downstairs to ask what happened to all the pictures on my wall, but I was met with more suitcases and bags at the entrance of the door. I turned around to see my mother standing in the doorway of the kitchen staring at me with sadness in her eyes. The sadness that she knew would come from within me because I was being deprived of my home.

My backpack that was still encased to my shoulders slid to the floor along with my heart that sunk and melted into the dark, wooden floorboards to never be picked up again. I found myself being pulled like a magnet away from my house as I watched out the back window of my mom's car. Everything that was in that home, every warming memory of my family together was to be obliterated from my mind from that day forward.

Just like that everything happened in a snap. No more family picnics. No more seeing my friends in Forks. Despite the fact that I never thought things could get worse, they did. From then on my new life that was promised to be an adventure to begin with was exactly that, but it soon faltered. I didn't know that my mother was to be married in two years time to a money hungry lawyer in Phoenix. I didn't know that I'd actually have to consider the friends I made in high school would become my actual family. They would be the ones I found solace in whenever I was put out of my home and then begged to come back the next day. I didn't know my mother would over time become an alcoholic and go through insignificant sessions of rehab. The fact that our daily conversations consisted of constant bickering didn't seem to faze her in the least bit.

Time only proved that I would be facing more difficult things ahead. By the time I was sixteen my stepfather had kicked me out of my own house twice, one time leaving me to spend the night alone on the street, another forcing me to call one of my friends to let me stay over. My mother would always call the next morning, before she kick started her day with a warm glass of champagne, begging me to come home. Then when things started to get old a new tragedy struck. We received a call from the hospital saying my father had passed away in the night from a brain aneurism that no one knew anything about. That's when my mother's drinking became out of control and my step father began to blame things on me. Life became much harder after that and I realized the harsh reality of my life wouldn't get any better if I stayed, so I left- plain and simple. I occupied my time with odd jobs trying to raise enough money to where I could support myself one day. When graduation day hit, I was gone.

The memories of my old life when I was little became distant and started to become filled with new ones from a life that drove me to where I am now. I can't complain nonetheless. I'm making it on my own in New York City. I have a best friend that's like my sister and she's also the closest person I've ever had in life. I have an apartment that's not ransacked and I have a little extra money left over each week. From the outside one could say I'm content, but the person who's words that you'd least expect to mean anything to me, did.

"You'll always be missing something," were the last words that my mother spoke to me after I walked out my door without looking back. Those words taunted me every day. It's become a ritual of mine that reminds me I'll always have something missing in my life.

My name is Isabella Swan and this is the story of how I found that missing piece.

I balanced my school books in my left hand as I fumbled with my keys in my right. Each jingle and rattle of the keys only proved that I hadn't chosen the correct one.

Jeez, how many keys does a girl like me need?

This just proved that I needed a key for everything in my hectic life to keep up with it.

The books escaped my hands and fumbled to the wooden floor in front of me as I pushed open my door to my downtown, one bedroom- one bath New York City apartment. My hands fell to my sides, slapping the sides of my legs. I let out a huff and threw the devious silver keys onto a nearby counter for them to only slide off onto the other side where the kitchen was. I pushed the white, wooden door shut and turned back to my educational mess,

"Really, do I never get a break?" I said to myself as I gathered up my literature books off the ground. My clumsiness was my worst enemy. A perfectly flat, dry surface could make me topple to the ground, even when I was at my most alert.

I assembled my books onto the table in the living room of my residence. The deep mahogany colored book flashed big white letters that read English on the front showed one of my classes that I had to occupy for my Investigative Journalism major. Ever since I was young child I'd always liked to write. Through my distressed teenage years I'd went through numerous journals, finishing each page front and back about my many tribulations with my parents and home life. It wasn't until I hit eighth grade when I found out that I wanted to do something meaningful with my studies once I hit of age like Investigative Journalism. I didn't regret it either. College was a challenge, but taking on a challenge as such didn't impede me from doing what I wanted. I guess it was because I wasn't like most of the college students that you found residing in a dorm and depleted all their time at parties instead of studying. That wasn't me. I had made it a concord to never end up that way. I didn't party, I studied. I promised myself it would pay off.

It was paying off. I was happy where I was. I was getting by; which was a big thing for me and where I came from. My step-father might have been the top prosecute attorney that Phoenix ever saw, but I knew better than to think he was anything but kind. My step-father, who is known as The Great Phil Dwyer, was known for putting the bad guys behind bars with his acute knowledge and defense mechanisms. I guess that was good thing for the innocent people, but nobody looked at it from the inside. Nobody really knew about his scheming intentions. He was in it for what most lawyers were in it for- the root of all evil- money.

My step-father was conniving. We'd clashed and clashed when I was a teen. We never got along. We could barely stand to live under the same roof together. I even remember the night he put me out on the street until morning.

The blistering chill of the December breeze blew a wintery chill over me. I'd spent another long night at the library once again studying for my English III exam. Mid-term exams were the worst. I swear Mrs. Berkley made it a point to make her test with the most detailed and complicated questions. I made sure I'd studied thoroughly for it. She was my favorite teacher though, to admit it. I worked hard to maintain my 'A plus average in her class. Her class wasn't an obstacle, but more of a goal for my future to me. I admired the way she made the students work hard to actually achieve something. She'd never move on from a subject unless you understood it. Her approach to a subject was with ease and step-by-step instructions. She'd be the reason I'd make it anywhere in college. I'd owe her.

My feet shuffled against the ground as I dragged them against the concrete of the sidewalk in downtown Phoenix. The lights from the bypassing cars lit up the 10'o'clock night sky. Even after work hours the traffic heavily consumed the roadways. It was a Friday night, which meant everyone and anyone would be out and about.

I walked my way up my circular, pavement driveway taking notice of the closed garage doors, which meant I couldn't go through the door inside the garage. Instead I'd have to use to the front door. I stepped on the round stepping stones cautiously one by one as not to fall while passing the freshly cut green grass and beautiful plants of all colors that were to be only be grown in the winter. The darkness swallowed the inside as the windows showed no lights being reflected through the glass from the downstairs corridor. That meant they were upstairs. They probably weren't even asleep yet, they usually watched the television until they fell asleep. I jiggled my key through the lock and quietly opened the front door. The T.V. from the upstairs echoed in the far distance. The flushing of a toilet notified me that someone was up.

"Mom, I'm home." I called to Renee as I took my shoes and jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack. I tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on the light above the stove for some guidance through the darkened room. The light from the fridge reflected on my face as I dug through it to find something to drink.

"Isabella," I heard a deep voice call my name.

"Great," I mumbled under my breath with a sigh, closing the door to the refrigerator and trying to weasel my way to my room.

"Where have you been?" The voice behind unmasked itself to reveal a much deeper voice than Renee's. I froze, my hand stopping mid air before reaching the stove light. I turned to face him.

"I've been at the library studying. I texted you and told you where I was." I said hoping he would remember.

"What's going on?" Renee asked in a groggy voice coming down the stairs in her robe, turning on the kitchen light. The fluorescents illustrated her sunken facial features. The confirmation from the light proved that she'd been drinking probably all day today. It was clear that I had woken her. It was likely she still wasn't in a right state of mind. These were the times he could take advantage of her mind. Phil turned his head to look at her, and then back at me.

"It seems Bella's been out tonight without our knowing," he said staring straight into my eyes. My mouth fell half way open in disbelief.

"I texted you-,"

"Bella," my mother started, "It's 10:30 on a Friday night, why have you been out so late?"

"Phil texted and asked where I was, he said he told you I was at the library," I fumbled in astonishment of the situation. I would get in trouble for nothing, once again.

"He never told me," She looked at him accusingly. A small smile crossed his face as he looked at me before a mask of defense took its place. I narrowed my eyes at him. My nostrils flared as breaths came out in pants from the anger that was boiling inside me.

"Because I never texted her." She narrowed her eyes at me as if I was the culprit.

"What, no, mom, he's-,"

"She's been out, Renee, probably with those no good friends of hers, up to no good."

"What, no!" I exclaimed, "Mom, I was at the library, I swear." I argued.

"I've had it with your lies," Phil spat at me, "I take you under my roof and this is how you repay your mother and me." Tears filled my eyes as he accused untrue things of me. He was good at these kinds of games. He'd manipulated my mother a long time ago with his deception,

"I won't tolerate this, Isabella. I can't have you stay here anymore. I want you out. Now," There was finality to his voice. Like he meant his words, but that was Phil. When he said something he meant it; which meant I would more than likely not be sleeping in my bed tonight. My heart stopped as I stood there staring at the two of them taking in the meaning. I could see the worried look in my mother's eyes resembling that of something of what looked like caring. Maybe there was still that speck there after all these years.

"Get out, Bella, right now."

"Now, Phil," my mother's shaken voice said, "wait a second. You can't just kick her out because she came in late. She's just a sixteen year old girl, and-," She cut herself off, "- she's my daughter." She said calmly.

"It's not just that. She lies, Renee. Time after time she has lied to both of us. She's played both of us into believing she's this straight 'A, angel child who spends all her time at the library. As if she is really worried about school. Look at the people she hangs around. The people she considers her friends," I watched his face as he looked at me and not dare look at my mother. I listened to the way he twisted and turned the truth into nothing more than impish accusations and lies, " You should've seen what I found in her drawer while she's been out tonight," Another sly smile cloaked his face, slowly creeping its way at the corners of his mouth. I stared at him, waiting for what he was about to pull next. He reached for his pocket and through a small, square plastic bag with a white powdered substance onto the table. My eyes went wide and my mouth fell partially open. Everything started to move slowly around me as I stared at the harsh allegation in bewilderment.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head slowly, "Why?" I looked up at him with glossy eyes. I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. Renee stared at the substance.

I shook my head frantically. Renee's eyes reflected fury as she took notice of the substance and studied it. She looked straight at me. I knew what was coming next.

She came across the kitchen faster than a speeding bullet towards me. She gripped my arm in a vice grip, hauling me over to the front door. I tried to fight back and loosen her grip, but she wouldn't let up.

"Mom, it's not mine! He's lying! He put that there!" Tears ran down my face as I panicked frantically trying to get her to believe me. I fought and fought trying to be free of her grasp, but it would only tighten.

The slamming of the door told me I was no longer welcome in my own home. No more words had been said before I was being shoved harshly out my front door. I stood in the empty space feeling the weight of the world fall beneath my feet leaving me numb to the biting arctic temperature. A tear escaped my eye once more.

I couldn't fathom what had happened to me that night. I remember how hard it was to wrap my mind around the fact my mother kicked me out of my own home into the blistering cold with nowhere to go. The fact that Phil told another white lie with his accusation against me didn't shock me in the least. But all in all, that was the scariest night of my life, and the most hurtful. Try facing up to the fact that your drunken mother, who was blinded with rage over a false claim, put you, her daughter, out without even thinking twice.

It still wounded me to this day that my mother and I never spoke. It hurt to know what she was capable of doing. I remember thinking whatever happened to the woman who use to read me bedtime stories and swing me around while singing 'You are My Sunshine'. Whatever went wrong?

The red blinking light that flashed the number two notified me that I had two messages on my answering machine that needed to be checked. I pressed the play button and continued my path to the kitchen where I picked up my keys off the tiled floor. The room was filled with a fluent British voice that was familiar to me,

"Bella, its Lisa from the college, I was calling to let you know that I found some information that you might like for your research paper. It's quite intriguing, I might say. I know it's something that you'd love to get your hands on. I also called to let you know I have great news. After I put in the good word for you down at Bridges and Bridges Writing Co. for your internship, Harry, who is the boss, said he'd be interested in meeting with you. I'll be at the college until ten tonight, so if you could I'd like for you to come by so we could discuss the details. I'm just sure that you'll get this internship!"

Lisa was one of my professors from college. She was one of the freshly young ones that wasn't bitter. She somewhat reminded me of the way high school teachers helped their students. She cared. She and I had become friends outside of school as well. After I'd come to her for advice and editing on the way I wrote, she started to point me in the right direction. She'd even been so kind as to get me an internship that was almost impossible to get.

The machine beeped over to a much more cheerful, pixie like voice that was of my best friend,

"Bella, answer your damn phone! This is like the umpteenth time I've called you. Where have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in days. I call you don't answer, I come by and we only talk for five minutes. Are you dead? I'm sorry; I know you've been busy. I guess I just miss my best friend. I also called because I was going to ask if you'd go somewhere with me tomorrow. Well anyway, call me back!"

Alice-always worrying, always demanding. I couldn't complain though. It was nice to have someone who worried about you in your could be like a clingy puppy dog. We've been attached ever since I met her in my Socio class.

Alice and I were different in so many ways. She was fluently graceful yet rapid; I was clumsy yet accumulated. Both of us were high in astuteness, but at what we were best at. She was trendy and always happy which helped her drive her passion for fashion. I was analytical and determined to be successful. We were best friends.

The phone rang in my ear as I contacted Alice,

"Bella," The frustrated yet rushed feminine voice came onto the other side after one ring, "finally, I thought you'd died or something."

I laughed, "Alice, you know that I've-,"

"Been busy, yeah I know," She said dully, "but what are you doing today? I really need to ask you something."

"I know, I know," I drew the word out frustratingly, "you're just in luck though, I was calling you back to see if you wanted to go hangout later on."

I could hear her clap her hands together cheerfully on the other end,

"I thought you'd never ask," she laughed.

"Great," I smiled, "I was thinking maybe we could get some lunch at around," I glanced at the clock, thinking, "It's 1:30 now," I said to myself, "I have to run by the college here in like five minutes, but I shouldn't be very long. How does lunch at Cosmo's around three sound?"

"Sounds splendid," I smiled at her inability of doing a fake Queen of England façade.

"Okay, well I better get going. I'll see you at three."

"See you then."

The glass doors to the New York University campus entrance swung open as I sauntered through to find room 302. NYU was a beautiful campus. It's location in Manhattan made it even more captivating. It was big no doubt. I had to walk stairs and halls when I finally finalized my destination.

I tapped on the light brown wooden door of Lisa's classroom. It contradicted the way the rest of the building was set up with its compacted walls and diminutive number of desks. But there she was sitting at her desk with her head down in a stack of papers with a red ink pen in her right hand.

Lisa Dubose was a woman of elegance. She always dressed sophisticated with her hair done in a precise, twisted bun that sat low on her strawberry blonde head. You could tell that she was not one of middle class. Her being from London with her flowing British accent also added to her prim and properness. She was admirable.

"Oh, Bella," She said with a smile, "you almost gave me a fright."

See. She was so British. I laughed on the inside at my comment,

"You obviously got my message, I see." She said assuredly.

"As a matter of fact I did." I said entering the classroom.

"Well, please, have a seat," She pointed to the desk in the front of the classroom before pulling her black, thin square frame glasses from her eyes, "So, like I said," she began, "I went to Bridges yesterday morning and talked to the boss, nice man he seemed to be also. He seemed really bent on getting you in for a meeting sometime in the near future. He gave me his number," She reached for her purse, "to give to you," She pulled out a white piece of paper with nine digits written on it, "He said feel free to come by anytime. I told him about your fortitude for success and your smoldering ardor to become a big time writer one day for your own big company- 'Swan incorporated'," She exaggerated by waving her hands in the air. I smiled with an eye roll.

"You told him all that?" I laughed, "Mrs. Lisa Dubose, always an over achiever."

"Oh," she laughed, "You'll be the one with the big named company one day. You'll have your own paper. You'll be the one doing all the hiring and firing. Before you know it, you'll be face to face with another Isabella Swan. Just wait, love."

A small smile spread across my face at the commendable vision.

"I sure hope so," I said almost to myself almost sadly. She reached across her desk and took my hand in hers.

"You will, Bella," She smiled reassuringly.

Like all the other few close friends I'd made in New York City, I'd told Lisa about my past and what I came from. She understood. She'd become a counselor like figure to me whenever I'd have a bad day and needed someone other than Alice's opinion on the subject.

"Well," I said breaking out of the depressing stupor, "what all did Mr. Harry Bridges say?"

"I'd say that you pretty much already have the job." She smiled.

"Really," I could feel the excitement sweltering up inside of me, "that's fantastic!" I blurted. She laughed. I don't even think Alice could top my excitement right now.

"He said, of course, to call him. He didn't want you to get away. I told him you were a genuine and respectable young woman. I gave him a copy of your transcripts, all your grades and extracurricular, and your past jobs. He didn't give me all the details on your payroll and shift, but I can certify that it's an impressive employment that you won't regret being hired for."

"Are you kidding? I've wanted this internship ever since I knew I wanted to attend NYU. You are a charm, Lisa, really."

"Oh, no," She opposed, throwing her hand out, "You deserve it, Bella. I'd actually be offended if you didn't take it. You have so much talent for such a fresh face. I'd hate to see it go to waste; speaking of which, the research paper. I have your papers right in here," She opened her filing cabinet and pulled out a stack of papers that were that was the size of the dictionary. I stared in dreadfulness,

"I know, I know, it's a lot. But I wouldn't have done this for you if I didn't think you could handle it. Plus, this will come in handy on your thesis next week."

I composed the heap of papers in both of my hands, trying my hardest not to drop them.

"Well," I breathed, "I don't know how to thank you for this, Lisa."

"Don't sweat it," She smiled, "Pay this off and it will be enough gratitude."

"Well, I better you go. I don't want to disrupt your upcoming class." With a smile and a wave I was on my way out of the classroom in the rushing city that was New York.

I toppled through the traffic of people that swarmed the sidewalk struggling to balance my papers and phone Alice while trying not to trip over anyone's tied shoelaces.

"Alice… Alice," I fumbled with my stability.

"Bella, are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm walking back to my apartment from the college," A stray paper threatened to plunge itself into the clogged passage of people that surrounded me. I hastily snatched it up, "My professor gave me a heap of papers for a research paper that I have due. I'm running them back to my apartment and I'll be there in twenty."

Alice laughed, "Bella, only you would be staggering through the New York heat nearly tripping. I'll see you when you get here."

Five minutes later all my support was being slammed against my door as I blew a piece of stray hair out of my left eyeball. I panted for the loss of breath that was ventured out of my body into the New York air on my way back.

Why did my life have to be such a rush? More or less, why did I have to make it that way?

I was a procrastinator. One of the biggest you'd probably ever meet. Of course I wouldn't be that way if I didn't have a million other things going on at once. I have my bills, my school work, my friends, my job-to-be, my being on time- speaking of which if I don't shut up I'll be late with Alice.

~X~

"So, yes Jasper just totally blew me off," Alice ranted on about her current boyfriend of a year now. She continued to fume about their 12'o'clock brunch meeting that turned into a 1'o'clock brunch meeting then Alice found herself sitting at the nearest diner until 2:30 waiting for a person that would never show. That's when she finally decided to get up and walk out.

Jasper Hale, quite the character I guess you could say. His curly dirty blonde locks and tanned skin proved that he was from the South- even more or less his accent that, since the first time I met him, had faded. He was a normal guy, down to earth and easy to talk too- less rough looking than her last boyfriend Stanley. I'd never met Stanley, but from what Alice told me he was the jerk of the 21st century. Jasper, on the other hand, I'd talked to quite a bit, and he was nice.

Alice, unlike me, had problems with finding the right guys to give her time to. I guess that's because I've given none the time of my day. I'm not selfish or stuck up, I just don't have the time and after everything I've seen in my lifetime, that four letter word that I'd never dare say seemed implausible. I wasn't one that refused to be in a relationship because of a nasty break up from before, but because I knew from observation that I'd be setting myself up for heartbreak… or I would just end up divorcing a man I'd given my life to for an A-class asshole like my mother.

"Alice, why don't you just dump him then?" I asked considerately. Her eyes stared at me as her mouth fell half open stunned.

Yeah, I figured that. Even I knew Alice would never do that. It's not like I wanted her too. I liked Jasper as well. He was a good friend and a good potential long-term boyfriend if you take away the fact that he suddenly stood her up.

"Bella," she said in a clipped voice, "take it back," she finished as if I'd insulted her. I sighed rolling my eyes. Her face fell back to the same composure it was once again while she carried on her rant,

"I mean, we haven't even fucked yet, but he was my head spinning."

And there went my drink straight out of my mouth, being spit out across the room. She looked at me as if she had said something unexpected. Laughter erupted from the pit of my stomach, filling the room with a booming melody. She continued to look at me. My face gradually came back to its previous poise. I took in a breath, exhaling calmly as I shook my head in a slow nod, thinking of a way to approach the subject she'd just brought up.

"I can't believe you just said that." I reached for a napkin, bending down to clean up my liquid mess.

"Well it's the truth, Bella. We haven't done anything, which says a lot for me, you know."

You're telling me,

"A physical relationship is important to me, and no one has ever made me feel this way before. Shouldn't sex be a part of a relationship that blows my mind?" I could sense that she felt she had done something wrong, "How is that even possible?" She continued.

"There's more to a relationship than sex, Alice." I retorted, realizing I made her sound like a T-total whore.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, "That's what I'm saying. I've discovered that part. Maybe that's why he blew me off. Maybe I'm not interesting anymore, or maybe he wanted that really bad and I wasn't taking the hint."

"Well, I can assure you that you're more than interesting, Alice- plus, he's a nice guy. It's not every day a Jasper Whitlock comes knocking on your door. And it's not every day an Alice Cullen comes along."

"So, what you're trying to say is that we're meant to be?" God, she could be such an airhead sometimes.

I thought for a second,

"Sure," I drew the word out, "What I'm saying is, just give it a chance. Don't freak out about it. Maybe there's a good explanation for his absence today."

She sighed, taking in my words,

"I guess," She said, showing the doubt in her voice.

"Would you like a refill miss?" A brown-haired, fair skinned waitress that held a tea pitcher in her hand, asked politely.

"Oh yes, please," I said handing her my glass that had the lemon sunk at the bottom.

"So, next weekend," She started, "my parents are hosting a rehearsal dinner for Emmett and Rosalie's wedding," Emmett was Alice's older brother of twenty-seven years and Rosalie was his bride-to-be. She was nice, but there was always this dark, alluring thing about her- like she had something to hide. Maybe it was the way her jet black eyeliner that was always so neatly in place outlined her hazel orbs, giving them a glow that gave her a mysterious appeal. She always had the bitchy vibe going to me. Her blonde locks always flowed down her curvy form in curly tresses. She was the definition of ambiguity… and beauty, "I have to go for the extra help, and you're coming with me, Kay?"

Laughter interrupted my thoughts as I laughed at her domineering order that was meant to be a question.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," I said smiling, "I guess I could use a get away for a day."

"You guess," She retorted teasingly, "More like you could. All you do is work and homework."

"I didn't come to New York to play," I ragged.

"You came to find yourself, blah, blah, blah," She mocked, "Hey, what time is it?" She abruptly cut herself off. I stole a glance at my cell phone.

"5:34," I said.

"Shit! We have to go now, I'm going to be late," She put a tip on the table along with half of the check, while hastily pushing herself from her chair. I sat up just as quick,

"Where are we going?" I asked as I clumsily followed behind her through the two glass door entrance.

"To the airport, I have to pick my brother up today."

"Your brother," I asked stunned, "Why would your brother be at the airport?"

"Not Emmett, my other brother." She answered unlocking the driver seat door to her yellow Porsche.

"You have another brother?" I stood dumbfounded.

The clicking of the doors being unlocked filled my ears. I opened the two door car, climbing into the passenger seat. The car revved up as she backed out of the parking lot after turning her head to look both ways behind her. The one thing Alice ever failed to mention to me was another brother,

"Before you say anything, I never mentioned him because there was really nothing to mention," She said as if reading my mind.

"Nothing to mention," She said quickly. Her voice held a tone of danger- like there was more to the story that she was letting on. I narrowed my eyes curiously. She caught wind and let out a defeated sigh that had an edge of warning to it.

"His name is Edward," In the midst somewhere her tone of voice had become serious and somewhat grave, something that I immediately caught onto, "He's twenty-five, and like I said he's really nothing to mention. He's like," She stopped in thought before continuing, "the black sheep of the family, except we never talk- ever. He never calls, writes, sends holiday cards, nothing. He's always failed to give us some form of contact. We don't even know where he lives, let alone the fact why he decided to suddenly call from a private number and tell us he was flying down."

"So, what's the story on him?"

"That was the story. We all went to the same high school. We graduated, he left."

Yes, everyone graduates and leaves after they graduate- but why would a person just up and leave to never be in contact with his own family? This is where my investigative side kicked in.

"And you haven't heard from him since?"

"Nope," She said popping the 'p'.

"He just left without a trace? No reason whatsoever?"

"You know," she laughed, "you're going to be a kick ass journalist one day."

I could tell she was trying to change the subject, but failed miserably.

"Really, Alice, who just leaves their family and not call?"

"Well," She started as if there were more to the story, "like I said Edward has always been the black sheep. As long as I can remember he and my parents always had it out. Carlisle always had problems with him through his teenage years."

The feeling that I was stepping into a danger zone started to creep its way through Alice's voice.

"Yeah, must've been a trouble-maker huh?" I asked casually.

"Not exactly, Edward never did bad things or rebelled like some teenagers," She said as if somewhere someone had went wrong with him, "He wasn't into drugs or anything, didn't sneak out to go to a girlfriend's house or to a party. A matter of fact, he graduated Valedictorian in a class of eight hundred and twenty-two," Impressive, you could clearly tell Alice thought so as well, but nobody's who they seem to be these days, "He's smart, too smart," and there's my validation, "He's also manipulative and enjoys others being the cause of other people's misery. He's hurt so many girls. He also put this one guy in the hospital for looking at me wrong."

"Yeah, but what teenage guy wouldn't hurt a girls feelings? Isn't that the cool thing," I said with air quotations, "Hump then dump? And what guy isn't protective of his little sister?"

She let out a laugh that said I was naïve, "Bella, it's not the Hump and Dump game my brother played with girls. Instead of stealing their pink lacey thongs as a trophy, he stole their virtue- their dignity.

"It's all a game to Edward. He gets something from every girl he plays with. He picks his choices wisely. Innocence is his game, those are the types he likes… and not because they're good in the long run. He crushes them," She said darkly, "He rips their heart out and stomps on it to only watch it bleed… and he likes it." She said sadly, "He likes the fact that he makes a girl look at a bridge twice with thoughts of suicide. He gets inside your head like a tumor and infects you- he paralyzes your senses to where you left as a vegetable. All you want to do is crawl in bed and die."

A long silence filled the car making the air feel dense, penetrating my senses. I could feel the goose bumps mounting up on my arms as the obscurity of her voice made me tremble. I could tell she had despised her brother of the vicious games he played with people.

It would seem imprecise for me to say this after everything I'd just heard, as many of other reasons, to say that I wouldn't fall in love with anyone. I'd never want someone normal. I would never want to be settled down. My mother was the same way and look where that got her. Dwelling in a two story house where alcohol fed her senses. The man that "held her heart" was one not to be fooled with.

Power is what made the world go round. That's how Alice had described her cunning brother as- a man that wanted power, and nothing more, someone that wanted power over the innocence. I'd researched people like this before in one of my classes. He could get anything he wanted. He was in fact 'like a tumor that infected your brain'. I'd watched Phil run my mother the same way. He was a person that I'd morally despised. Yet, here I was, in a car with my best friend on my way to pick up a type of person that I'd promised myself I'd never get involved with again.

We made our way to the airport. Alice maneuvered her car into a parking space up close. She shifted the gear while turning the ignition off. Turning her head to me she said,

"Bella, promise me you won't get involved with him." Her eyes pleaded. I stared at her in comprehension.

"Yeah," I nodded my head, "no involvement whatsoever."

If only I could've kept that promise.

Swarms of people with crowded the busy building. Diverse people could be seen wheeling their suitcases through the valley; people were being checked through security; families were hugging each other as they had seen each other for the first time. Noise filled the room as voices could be heard from every direction.

"So, I'm just going to go use to bathroom. I'll be right back," Alice said quickly before heading off behind me.

What if I seen her brother? I don't even know what he looks like, however I'm waiting on a someone whom I don't even know… and from the looks of it I wouldn't want to know. Men of different statures stood all around me- some who were even alone. There were tall men, short men, round men, lithe men, men with a girl attached to their hip. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I found myself backing into what felt like a wall. My face headed for the white, tiled floor first. My breath stopped in my throat as I prepared for the plummet along with the pain it would bring my face. My fall was suspended as two large hands gripped my upper arms in a vice grip. I couldn't see who the intruder was, but from their hands and strength I could tell it was someone more masculine and less feminine.

My mouth was agape as not even a pant escaped it. My feet were still glued to the ground, which was good. The hands loosened as I recomposed myself. I turned around to only be confirmed that my savior was, in fact, a man. He was tall and illustrated a build that wasn't too muscular, but just right. He had a tall, supple frame. His copper, brown hair added to his loftiness. As my eyes traveled up his structure I noticed his clothes were sinisterly black. A black suede jacket went to his waist, a black button down shirt covered the button of his black pants that weren't too tight, but weren't loose. His jaded green eyes stared back into mine. That's when I found my voice,

"I am so sorry," I apologized, yet I didn't know why because it seemed as though the collide hadn't affected his position. He stared at me with, what looked like to me, enthrallment. His mischievous eyes said that I intrigued him; his half smirk dared me to move. My feet were paralyzed to the ground. No words could form in my head. There was something so alluring about him, and so… familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it. He was intimidating, yet so tempting.

Never in my life had I felt this drawn to someone. That something that felt so electrifying when he grasped a hold of my arms; the look he gave me whenever I turned around to face him. It was as if I were his target.

"Don't worry about it," His velvet voice filled my ears; his face still holding the same mask that made me want to squirm. One odd thing I noticed about him is he had no luggage with him.

"Are you waiting for someone?" I asked.

"Yeah," Was his one word answer. His voice was low and full of pure seduction.

I felt like I was a kid being offered candy by a stranger.

"So," I said awkwardly, "I'm Be-,"

"Isabella Swan," He said cocking his head to the side a little before his eyes roamed my body up and down.

Wait… what? Now I was officially uncomfortable and nervous. My head told me that I should move my feet to flee, but his gripping eyes held me in front of him.

"U-um, do I know you?" My stuttering voice ached with fear that he took notice of. I could see his eyes traveling back up to mine through his long lashes.

"I've heard about you." Was all he said, as if I were some secret that nobody needed to know about, "Yet, she never said you were so… eye-catching," He breathed out as his eyes once again raked my body.

I was brought back to reality as it all clicked in my mind. My eyes tore from his trance as I took a complete step back away from him losing all interest. I should've known by his dark and demeaning eyes who he was at first site. He fit the description perfectly.

"You're Alice's brother," I stated. He smirked.

"Seems you've heard of me as well, only good things I hope." His voice was still low and his eyes playful.

"Alice told you about me," I pried.

He hummed a smile before cryptically answering, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

The sound of clapping heals barging towards us made me turn my head to the side. I could see through the corner of my eye that his eyes were still on me,

"Alice," I said. Her eyes were clear with worry as she made her approach.

"Bella… Edward," She said as her eyes trailed to Edward.

"Dear sister, what a pleasant surprise."

"Yeah," She smiled, but her eyes carried a whole different meaning, "what a surprise it is."

"How have you been?"

"I've been good."

The air was so intense you could cut it with a knife. My first meeting with Edward was… interesting to say the least. I could only imagine how it would play out for the rest of his time here.

My intentions were for him to be dark. This will be a dark story, in hopes. So review, review, review, please (: