Flesh and Blood
"I hate you!"
Her words stabbed me right through my long dead heart. The blackened organ still remained in my cold chest, long devoid of pumping blood to sustain my life, though it stayed within me in a different capacity; its pure purpose now was to love Edward and Renesmee more than anything. It would beat metaphorically forever. This was the only unfathomable thing in the universe that I knew and had known since Edward's pale, cold hand had first touched mine that night in his car.
The anger in her chocolate brown eyes burned through me. Her heart was beating so thunderously hard that I thought the windows might shatter. Soon it was impossible to look at her and see such uncontrollable rage. Her face contorted into an angry glare only comparable with Edward's furious gaze in the ballet studio when James had so cruelly injured me. This beautiful, chiselled face was from Edward, the reddened cheeks were from my human blush. She was the product of our love, a beautiful hybrid, a mix of life and death. She flicked her bronze ringlets over her shoulder for effect. I watched her petite figure storm out the front door of the cottage defiantly. Renesmee was nearly seven years old, though she already had the subtly curved body of a fully grown woman.
I had told Edward that enrolling her in Folks High was a mistake. He was so keen for her to experience the normalities of human existence. With her rapid growth spurts, it had been impossible for her to have previously had normal schooling. Instead she relied on us, her family to educate her. Luckily, due to her abnormally high intelligence, knowledge was easily embedded in that ingenious mind of hers. When Renesmee cane home from school taking about a school councillor called Mr Newton, I had guessed that it was Mike. If it hadn't been for Jaspers soothing influence I would have pulled her out of school then. It was too dangerous. The likeness between Renesmee and us was unmistakable. We had hid her from the world to protect the dark secrets of our family.
"Get back here young lady! Wait until your father gets home!" I shouted in vain into the shadowy forest. The words contradicted my eighteen year old lips and even my twenty five years of experience. We looked practically the same age and in some respects we were but I was her mother and she was my teenage daughter. It was an impossible situation. How would I tell Jacob? Since he had imprinted, he eagerly awaited the day that they could be together. Now she was unequivocally in love with Mike Newton. I wondered if looking into her eyes had reignited feelings he had once felt for me. Now, it seemed more possible than ever that Mike might be the one to realise that Renesmee was not an adopted daughter of the Cullens, but mine and Edward's own flesh and blood.