Hello, this is a Twilight Fanfiction. I'm not spoiling any information about the story or plot, but the begininng is kinda slow, sorry. The Twilight Saga DOES NOT BELONG TO ME! It ALL obviously BELONGS to STEPHENIE MEYER, except my own original characters. The song I thought that fitted well with this story is "Airplane", by "Imogen Heap", and I would appreciate it if you opened up, located the song, and listened to it as you read this part of the story. Thank you so much for reading and please leave reviews, comments, and leave me messages in my mailbox!
Here I was, in a place I never thought I would find myself. A good 30,000 feet in the air on an airplane striking into contorted clouds that lingered in the high altitude and allowing them to mesh together into a large blur as the plane flew through them, the bright rays from the rising sun shining into my tired eyes. I didn't have any direction or control in my life as it was, yet, here I was flying off to Italy. My mother thought it would help me further my dreams of becoming a musically inclined painter, but at the moment, it didn't feel like it was going to. I noticed how my mother always used to watch me at my isle back at home, in the dreary covers of my previous home and state, as I sat hours on the stool in front of the blank isle, chewing my bottom lip in anticipation of any small spark that would inspire me to paint. Ever since my seventeenth birthday a couple of months ago, my mother started to watch me as I painted, watch me as I struggled for inspiration and watch as my pencil hovered over a blank sketchbook as my light eyes gazed at its target in question. I had such trouble painting and even sketching lately, I couldn't understand what it was that made my small talent for imagination flutter from my grasp. I could only assume it was my age; creativity must drift off with the years.
I wasn't in love with my old home state, but I was attached; I did after all grow up there with my mother. When my mother told me she would be shipping me off for "my own good", I couldn't begin to wrap my mind around it. I knew that my mother and I weren't getting along lately due to the divorce papers she was getting finalized after the years of dust they collected, but not to the point that she would send me almost half way across the world to get rid of me. I wanted to fight and argue that I didn't want to go, that I wanted to stay tucked away in our nest of a home, but I took it with good stride. The "reason" she gave me was that my estranged grandmother had a place for me at her house and at the Arts Institute she started and was the head of. My mother swore to the highest of heavens that my grandmother's high school for the "musical nerd or artsy engineer" was one of the most well established and qualified school for anyone that wanted a future in the arts. I couldn't fight with my mother on that; it was practically impossible. I was already seventeen and had no idea of the future I desired or even a glimpse of what I wanted when I closed my eyes or heard the idle chatter of teachers in the classroom, I had a small idea of what I should be doing and I took it.
I was wearing the clothing my mother brought me for my birthday- a gray tank-top, a canary yellow long sleeved hoodie that was un zippered, a pair of denim skinny jeans, and a pair of brightly colored flats that would make even a person with shades wince. It was a testament to my mother in a way, letting her know that I was going to carry her with me no matter how far I traveled off to. The sun was breaking through the swirling mist of the clouds, causing the scene before me to shimmer brilliantly. It was only then that I noticed that I was up all night during the plane ride shuffling aimlessly through my iPod, and gazing out of the window to inspect the land below me. It made me nervous to travel so high in the air; allowing paranoia to take hold of me and play out different outcomes to flying in a plane. It often made me wonder if Humans were even supposed to fly.
"Passengers, we would love to call to your attention that we're now going to land in Volterra, Italy," the stewardess spoke on the loud speaker, causing everyone to buckle their seatbelts before she advised them to do so. "Please buckle your seatbelts, and thank you for choosing us as your traveling companions." the stewardess smiled, but I silently braced my mind for impact for when I had to come face-to-face with my estranged grandmother.
"Cecile!" an eager and partially cracked voice called out to me, drawing my attention in the voice's direction. My eyes looked to a woman that wore a plain white t-shirt and loose neon pink caprice that waved her hand at me, even giving a small bounce upward with her body. I carried my suitcases and carry-on over in the direction of the lady, but slowed down as I got closer to her. I noticed the small wrinkles that pinched around her mouth, the crow's feet that indented the corners of her light green eyes, her boney blushing cheeks, the cropped silver hair that rustled in the air conditioning , and her wrinkled hands that stretched out in acceptance as she hugged me. This had to be my grandmother.
"Cecile! It's been much too long, honey. Come this way, let me get you're bags. You're much too small to be carrying such heavy things. What does that daughter of mine feed you? Nothing?" my grandmother criticized, but I felt my face tint a light pink. I knew I was small for my size, standing quite short compared to others, but I didn't weigh that little.
"First thing we do when we get home is feed you. You must be starving from the flight and with that pile of puke they try to feed you, I'm sure you didn't eat the whole ride." she smiled, wrinkles pinching her mouth as her pink lipstick cracked a bit with her smile.
I couldn't help but smile back at her as I helped her with my bags; it was after all my luggage. Just how much could a 72 year old lady carry? The ride in the tiny Beatle Volkswagen she drove was a bit uncomfortable due to the luggage that poked at my side and was spilling from the backseat.
"It's so nice to see you again, Cecile. I can't even remember the last time you were here, I dare not even push my mind back that far." my grandmother smiled, driving through the streets that were lined more with people walking than driving.
"Yea, it's nice to be back here. Mom and I must have came here when I was two or maybe four; I can't remember, but I do still remember this car." I joined in on the conversation, trying to warm up to my own grandmother.
I couldn't remember every detail of last coming to Volterra, mostly because I was too young to remember. I couldn't even remember why my grandmother chose to live half way across the world when she had the option of living back home with us. She chose to live in a place where there was no familiar faces. She chose to go far from us, and half way across the globe. Did she honestly dislike us that much?
I felt my finger push down on a button, causing the window to role down slowly. A fresh and curious new scent filled my nostrils. It was exotic and crisp, as the wind that accompanied it combed through my long dark hair, rustling it about in calm breezy. The scent was of just how the earth smelt after the rain, the way the woods smelt when it was surrounded by healthy trees, the same exact way a relaxing Spring afternoon tasted on my lips after a long day of looking at blank isles and partially calloused fingers.
"You know, you don't have to call me grandma if you don't want to. You can call me Maria if you want or Mama Maria." Maria proposed. "I know it must feel strange for you to call me grandma after all this time of not seeing me, so it's fine." she reassured me, but I shook my head as I smiled small at her. "You're my grandma, and that's what I want to call you." I told her, not wanting to discuss the absence of time we could have shared in the past. I wasn't very fond of talking about past mistakes or problems, but I was interested in knowing of what she thought at the moment. I could only guess how odd it must be having me in front of her after all those years.
"Let's just forget about everything. I want to start off fresh again, and spend time with you. I want to know more about you, mom, and out family. It'll be fun." I stated, looking at the woman before me. I could tell that she was more than pleased by my answer as she brushed her hand over the top of my head and then pulled my head to the side for her to give a warm kiss on my forehead. It was tender and light.
"I'm looking forward to having time with you too, but I think you'll have more fun at the Institute and with the surprise I have waiting for you at home." Maria giggled at her inside secret, but my dark eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. I wouldn't say I wasn't fond of surprises, but there were certain ones that I always liked to steer clear of. Especially if it was moving or had the capability to destroy the memories I brought with me from my home state. I wanted to keep all of my possessions from my mother safe from harms way, and try to appease her by painting a few portraits along the way.
"Speaking of the Institute, are you really the head of the school? If so, you don't need to enroll me just because I'm your granddaughter. I feel as though I would be-" I tried to explain, but Maria cut me off with a wave of her hand.
"Shilly shally, nonsense! Don't be so stubborn, Cecilia. I swear you act just like your mother at times; stubborn till the end. Don't think just because you're part of the Francesca family that I'd cut you any slack. You're mother sent me a few of your drawings and I evaluated them personally." Maria revealed, stopping for a red light even though there were only three other cars on the road.
I couldn't help but feel a bit betrayed by my mother's sly behavior behind my back. My paintings and drawings were lacking for a long while, and there was no telling just which ones she sent off to Maria. Then again, when I went to tear through my pieces of work, the pile did feel a bit light. "W-What did you think?" I asked her, finding my teeth nibbling on my bottom lip. I had the nasty habit of gnawing on my bottom lip when I was nervous and fiddling with my fingers behind my back when I rarely lied, resulting in partially chapped bottom lip and nerves when it came to lying.
"You're art is distinct, it has your own style to it. But then again, the art she sent me was from three years ago from the date you wrote in the corner. I'm sure you're just as good, so I placed you in the slot for Advanced Placement Drawing and Painting. That class has only ten students in it, and I gave the last slot to you. I'm positive you'll do fine in the class, you're work can stand against the others. Though a few students killed to get into the class." Maria informed me, all the while as I could feel my stomach turn in discomfort.
I couldn't believe this was happening. My own grandmother shoved me into an Advanced Placement class, that thousands of students that were most likely more qualified than me, tried to get into. I felt my head strike with pain and my stomach throbbed silently with pain. I was placed in a class I wasn't ready or any where near to perfect for. How was I going to tell her that all the effort she did to put me into the advanced art class was wasted? That I no longer had the gift of art within me? Only the gift to be undecided and lost?
I couldn't bare talking the rest of the ride to the house, but my eyes were glued to the opened window of the car. I never would have expected that Volterra would be such a large town that completely differed from my previous home. The town was a living work of historical art paved in statuesque buildings and cathedrals. The buildings towered over the aged pavements that were flooded with townspeople gossiping and attending the local marketplace, or entering and leaving stores with friends and family. The streets clicked and clacked with the eager feet of children who skipped behind the steps of their guardians. Houses and apartment buildings were joined together as they stood tall next to each other, a wide Museum shadowed by marble angels that swayed in an eternal dance caught my sights as we drove by. Seagulls, pigeons, crows, and diverse birds swayed along the vast clear sky as the salty smell from the ocean that surrounded the city drifted in my nostrils, causing me to notice the Etruscan walls that circled around the city in defense. Then, a holy sight striked me more than the rest. It's essence resounding more louder than a crack of thunder through the night. It was an enlarged cathedral that stood tall and proud, with gargoyles and angels joining forces to watch over the blessed ground. The cathedral was covered in centuries old paintings, sculpted with a feeling that reminded me of Rome, and it was surrounded by other small chapels. My large intrigued eyes held tight to the cathedral as it passed by my sights, as I even turned around in my seat still gazing at it even though it was becoming further and further away.
"This is our home, I hope you like it." Maria introduced me to the house, opening the front door for us. The house wasn't too big, and not too small. It was a perfect average sized house that was quite clean, and even as I went into the kitchen I noticed it was still clean; which surprised me. Usually, my kitchen back home had crumbs over the counter, newspapers scattered over the table, and a few pots and pans out of place. I exited the kitchen with my bags and followed closely behind Maria as she lead me to my bedroom which was all the way on the other end of the house. I was about to open the door until Maria stopped me.
"Wait! Close your eyes! I don't want your surprise ruined." Maria hurried to my side, clamping her hands over my eyes, and causing me to drop my bags. I didn't remember any surprises until she mentioned it to me again, it must have been the overwhelming news of my Institute position and the Romanesque building that made me forget entirely.
"Okay, walk in slowly and no peeking, Cecilia!" Maria warned, but I complied. There was no need to ruin a happy moment like this, a moment that made her happy. I wanted this day and maybe these years we were going to spend with each other to be happy and meaningful. Without any interruptions from school or home.
"Open your eyes!" Maria cheered, but I opened them slowly cautiously. I waited for some sort of impact, it never came. I stepped forward; nothing squishy or moving on the floor. I held my hand outward; nothing hitting or in front of me. I opened my bright eyes fully, but wished I didn't instantly.
There it was before me once again, a constant reminder of my failure and loss. My lack of ability standing right before me with light shining upon its clean slate. It was a recently bought isle with a blank portrait that stood silently and waited for work to be created upon it. I felt my stomach turn again, and I felt like darting into the bathroom we passed on the way to the room so I could lock myself away in it.
"Cecilia, are you okay? Do you like it?" Maria asked, but I lied and nodded. I didn't want her to know that I lost my talent; the talent that once moved me.
I smiled the best I could, trying my best to shield my shame, all the while fiddling my fingers behind my back. "I love it! I can't wait to start using it." I told her, as she brought my bags in. I took up the rest of my bags, and told her I could settle in myself. Luckily, Maria bought it and left me to myself.
Before I started to unpack or even think of it, I took the isle, folded it, covered it with it's sheet, and put it in the closet. I couldn't bare to look at it, and I tried to mentally remind myself that no object should be put in that closet unless I wanted immediate shame and aggravation.
I finally looked at my new room, it was beautiful and cozy with an odd combo of colors that blended perfectly with each other. The walls were painted a light green, as the ceiling was white. There was a black and white rug on the floor that was placed next to the black and white couch, and two wooden night stands in the room. A perfect sized bed that was also color coated black and white, with a framed "C" over the bed. There were a few other random framed photos that were spread throughout the room, as I assumed that Maria had a hard time trying to understand what a seventeen year old girl usually had in their rooms. Two lamps were situated in the room, which provided a good amount of light in the room. Even though the room was gorgeous, it made me wonder just how much money went into it, making me feel partially guilty.
It took me hours to put away my clothes and get settled into my new arrangements, but Maria did peek her head in every once in awhile to offer snacks and drinks. I refused on both occasions as the sole objective on my mind was to get settled, but Maria's company made putting away my clothes and unused sketchbook bearable. It was well into night by the time I finished, but I found myself traveling into the bathroom that Maria and I shared with each other. The bathroom was riddled with make-up and beauty products, which made me laugh inwardly.
Even though Maria was well into her seventy's, she still prized herself which was good. If I ever grew old, I would completely stop taking care of myself and just let old age take it's course. I set a few of my products in the bathroom, but kept my small amount of make-up in my room, fearing that Maria's would definitely conquer over my pitiful amount of make-up. A figure caught my eyes in the mirror, as I gazed back at it.
The figure was me; Cecilia Francesca. Traces of my former home was present in my appearance as my complexion was pale due to the constant clouds that hung over my previous home, but my complexion blended well with my nearly invisible spread of freckles that sprinkled over my face. My eyes were like my mother's, large and expressive pale green eyes, that reflected my expressions perfectly. At the moment though, my expression was uncertainty. My hair contrasted with my complexion as it was a long straight dark brown that reached to the middle of my bust, but my hair is a bit wavy. My bangs sweep over my forehead, but not over my eyebrows. My face was heart shaped, lips quite full, but due to my biting, my bottom lip was a bit bigger than my top lip. I enjoyed wearing make-up, as I was prone to wearing smudged black eyeliner and a poppy orange lip gloss, but I also enjoyed my natural looks. The nose I have is like a button and was always the first thing that turned cold during the winter back home. My height though was very small for my age, five feet. It had to be due to my mother's size and my father's. I knew I wasn't pretty or attractive, but I lived with it. There was no use making a big deal out of little things like my looks, even if I didn't like them.
This is who I am; Cecilia Francesca.
Well, that's the first chapter! Leave comments, meassages, and reviews! You can find the picture of the main character on the site "". I envisioned Cecilia to look exactly like Emily Browning from the movie, "The Uninvited", so check out the photo section on the website for that movie! Thank you! ^-^