Hello. My name is Mary Alice Brandon-Cullen, but you can just call me Alice. I am married to the wonderful Jasper Whitlock-Hale. I love fashion and I love my canary yellow Porsche 911 Turbo. Carlisle Cullen and his wife, Esme, adopted me in 1950 and I have gained a few siblings, too. Oh, there is one thing I forgot to mention. I am a vampire. Not only that, but I can also see the future. Now, don't come to me asking who you're going to marry in the future because my visions are subjective and they change as you change your mind.

Now, my life may seem ok. I mean, I have a husband and I have money. I have parents and siblings who I love dearly and they love me just as much. However, it hasn't always been like that. My life was not always perfect, not even close. I was always misunderstood as a child and it often came back to bite other people in the butt. I guess you'll have to take a look into my past to see why.

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I was born in 1901 to my middle-class parents in Biloxi, Mississippi. My sister, Cynthia, was born in 1910. We had an orchard on our property, which my mother took care of, while my father was often out of town on business being a jeweler. My sister and I were very close, even though there was a nine year age difference.

Around the time of my fourth or fifth birthday, I started having premonitions. They weren't strong, but they were noticeable. My parents even noticed. They would say, "Alice is always right." One day, the sky was blue but I was adamant on wearing my rain clothes, despite the protests of my parents. Not long after the rain began and I, once again, amused my parents with my prediction. I was a child then. I loved having these premonitions and I wanted to tell people. I wanted to announce it to the whole world. "School won't be in session tomorrow because of the flooding," I wanted to tell all of my friends.

Once I got older, though, I became self-conscious and I hated being wrong. Even more, I hated being wrong in front of other people and them thinking that something was wrong with me. Eventually I stopped sharing so much. The few predictions I did voice got people to talk when they were correct, though. I was called uncanny and I was never asked to attend birthday parties. I didn't like being left out and my mother tried to console me. "Alice, they just don't understand you. Now, just don't talk about it unless it's to me and I am sure that you will get some friends," she said.

The older I got, the more I ignored the premonitions. I tried to ignore them as much as possible, but sometimes I just had to get it out. It usually didn't turn out so well. I had a friend who was engaged to a man that I just didn't have a good feeling about. I warned her not to marry him. She ignored me and thought that I was crazy. "I will marry whomever the hell I want to, Alice, and it's none of your damned business."

Turns out, the man had a family history of insanity. My friend started to whisper, saying that I had put a curse on her.

Another incident involved my favorite cousin, John. He was planning to go out west for good fortune. I begged and begged and begged him not to go. He died in a car accident about half way there. My aunt and uncle turned on me, saying that I had jinxed John into getting into that accident. When people heard of this, words like witch and changeling started to be thrown around a lot when describing me.

Then came the most terrifying one of them all because it involved my mother, who I loved dearly. She was on the way into town to go to the market. There was a man in the woods. I don't know who the man was, but he murdered her. He was a stranger, dressed in all black and I couldn't make out any facial features.

My mother listened to me when I told her of my vision. She kept a pistol loaded and put it in her bedroom. The doors were locked at all times and my sister and I were ordered not to go outside. Mother wouldn't let us open the door for anyone and neither would she. Father came home from a business trip a few days later. The house was dirty and there was no food in the pantry. I told him about the vision I had and mother insisted that he check the woods. He didn't find a thing. He got angry and told me not to panic the family ever again.

The visions kept coming and the more they came, the more terrified I got. I told my parents. Father got angry every time I told them, but mother still believed me. Father wanted us to go about living our normal lives. However, he was not able to enforce this because he was often gone. So mother followed my warnings when he wasn't home. Still, we needed food and had to tend to the orchard so she took the pistol everywhere she went. After all, we couldn't lock ourselves up in the house forever.

A month passed and I hadn't seen the visions in quite some time. Mother began to visit her friends and attend the theatre again. She took the pistol with her, but only for a while. After a few months she started to forget it.

"Alice, Cynthia. I'm going to go visit Marlena," she said one night after dinner. "I suspect that I won't be home until late. Make sure that you girls bathe and get into bed on time." Mother left me in charge like she always did.

I watched out the window as she drove off in the buggy. Only a few minutes later, I had the vision again. There was a man in a Model T running mother off the road where there was a steep cliff. I knew that it was useless, but I ran when I saw that there would be no movement inside the car. Then I saw that the man in the Model T was going to drive away from the accident. Eventually I stopped running. Whether it was because I was out of breath or so taken over by the tears, I don't know. Afraid for my own life and my sister's, I ran home. I told her about the accident and we both cried ourselves to sleep.

Nobody found the car until two days later. I fought and fought with the authorities, but they wouldn't listen and declared the death an accident. I was so angry at them. Father ordered me to stay quiet.

All I could think was that I don't understand what is going on. I keep telling people of these horrible things that are going to happen and nobody will listen to me! I'm trying to save lives here and everyone thinks that I am going insane. How messed up can some people be? No one believes me and father only tells me to stop talking and to go to my room and work on my studies. This is ridiculous! If only people could see what I see. Then they'd understand. Catherine wouldn't have married that psycho. John wouldn't have gone on that trip and gotten in the accident. Mother would still be alive.

Six months later, father remarried a woman who had frequently bought jewels from him. She was a Yankee from Illinois. She was only ten years older than me, much younger than what my mother had been.

She wasn't very nice to me, though she loved Cynthia. I still don't know why but I think that it may have to do with the visions. Cynthia didn't show that she didn't like the woman. On the surface she loved her, but she always told me that she hated her for the way that she treated me. Even without my visions, I was capable of thinking about things logically. Father got married only six months after mother's death and my stepmother didn't like me? I became suspicious and asked my father if he had been faithful to mother.

"Mary Alice Brandon. How could you think so ill of Rebecca? That is appalling! I loved your mother and you damn well know that. What happened was a tragedy and I still do love her in a way, but Rebecca is your stepmother now and you should respect her as you would your mother. Now, go to your room for the night." He was outraged at my accusations.

The next night, I had a vision of my father. He was handing a man some money. I quickly realized that this was the man that killed mother. When I made a very audible gasp, Cynthia looked at me knowing that I had seen something. Before she could ask, I had another vision of the man standing over me with a knife. Father was the wrong person to ask about the affair. At that moment my father became the person that I hated most in the world.

I ran five miles to my aunt's and uncle's house. When they finally answered the door after beating it several times, I rushed my story out starting with mother's death and ending with father sending the killer after me. My aunt still blamed me for John's death and told my uncle to get the dogs to chase me away.

I ran another ten miles to the marshal's house. By the time I had arrived, my father and my aunt were already there. They had told the marshal that I had gone mad. I had heard it so much in my life that I had almost started to believe it myself. I accused father of his crimes and Rebecca of being an accomplice, but no one listened. Everyone already thought I was possessed by the devil.

I was sent to an asylum two counties away. Not a lot of people knew what happened. The few who did know were supporting of the decision to make the story that I had died.

There was a typhoid outbreak and everyone's head was shaved. I also went through electroshock therapy. This caused me to lose my memory and bring back my natural happiness since I could no longer remember anything of the horror that I had experienced back at home.

Because there were so many people at the asylum and because of why we were all there, if someone died it would go without much notice. I didn't know that there was a vampire working in the asylum as a groundskeeper because of the people. He and I formed an attachment. He would keep me from the electric shock treatments whenever he could. I loved him for that. He learned of my abilities and whenever he would visit me, he would bring a hidden object and ask me to guess what it was. I was always right.

I had a vision of a man named James that was near my home. He caught my scent and went out to find me. I only told my friend. Immediately, his face became hard. I asked him what was wrong. He told me that my vision was fact. He wanted to escape with me, but every option that was suggested ended in James finding me. Finally, he decided to change me. I knew that it would be close; I wasn't exactly sure if there would be enough time for the venom to spread enough that James would get nothing out of my blood. Seeing that there was no other option, he took me somewhere to hide and start the transformation.

My friend- whom I cannot for the life of me remember his name- knew that James was fast, so he put himself in his path to delay him. He knew that James was strong and that he couldn't win against him.

I woke up my dream alone. I didn't know where I was or the reason for it. I wasn't even exactly sure of what I was. The pain of the transformation must've had the same effects as the shock treatments. I couldn't remember anything thing about the asylum, either.

One good thing is that my visions became strengthened. My visions were clearer and now I could see the best future for myself.

The first clear vision I had was of a man named Jasper Whitlock. I could see that he was my future mate, but instead of looking for him I let him look for me. I knew that he wasn't ready for me yet and to be honest, I wasn't so sure that I was ready for him either. I wasn't even so sure of myself.

Not long after I had a vision of the Cullen family. I could see that Jasper and I would be joining them. I also saw the lifestyle they led and I tried with some success to copy it. It wasn't easy and I often slipped, drinking a human dry.

In 1948 I finally met Jasper. I was waiting in a diner in Philadelphia. It was raining hard when he came in to get some shelter. I was already in love with him and his ability to feel my emotions drew him to me and made him return the feelings.

I hopped off the bar stool and walked over to him. "You've kept me waiting a long time." I said.

"My apologies, ma'am," he said with a southern accent. I hadn't caught that in any of my visions of him. "Jasper Whitlock." He held his hand out.

"Alice Brandon." I placed my hand in his and we exited the diner together. We got into my car and I began to tell him about my visions of him.

He told me his story. He told me about the Civil War and a woman named Maria that changed him. He also told me about the newborn army that she put Jasper in charge of creating.

When he asked me what my own story was, I fell quiet. I hadn't really thought of it that much. "I don't know." I replied. "I don't know anything of my human life. I don't even know who changed me or the reasoning."

When I told him about the Cullens he seemed astonished that another way of living could exist. He quickly agreed to start trying and we were living off of animal blood on a regular basis. It was harder for him to adjust to because he had been living off of human blood for so long.

We joined the Cullens in 1950. By then I was able to control my thirst as well as the others, but Jasper still struggled. Even now, over 50 years later he still struggles but it's easier.

Finally I could have some normalcy in my life. I know that it may seem crazy. I found out some information from Bella because of what James told her at the ballet studio and I started doing extensive research about my life. I found out that I have a niece that's still alive in Mississippi.

All of the memories started to come back from my human life. Jasper and I visited my grave. The date of my death was the same as the date that I was admitted into the asylum. We also visited Cynthia's grave and my mother's. I cried dry tears for them and laid flowers down. When we visited my father's grave, Rebecca was buried with him. There was also a baby buried in between them. I learned that little Alexander had died due to his premature birth.

I said a small greeting to my brother that I never knew. I looked at my father's grave with hatred that I didn't know that I was capable of. I yelled and cursed. I hoped that he was rotting in hell for everything he did to me and I didn't even care for any respect to show him. I was finally getting to say all that I wasn't able to before and it felt good. It felt really good.