I was driving. That's all I knew. I wasn't totally sure where yet, but I was getting away from here. I was almost in 'Forks, Washington,' according to the road signs.

I am Amalia Medina. I don't live with my parents. I ran away from them when I was about 13. I am now 17 and I am from Pennsylvania— the place I am now running away from. I don't have many childhood memories. I do remember that when I was little, kids used to play with their shadows and I never saw mine. I was always the weird, lonely little girl. It was the one memory I never forgot, oddly.

Something else I remember from my past is that when I was 13, I realized that I liked blood. I liked the taste of it, and I craved it sometimes. It was weird, and it frightened me at first. But one day, I was thirsty all day. I drank about a gallon of water, and I decided I just wanted blood. So I cut my wrist and drank my blood. And I continued doing it until this very day. I cut myself every now and then to drink my blood, but it never hurts. I really never feel pain; and if I do, it has to be a very intense pain.

I lived with my boyfriend, Damon, for about a year and a half now. He knew never knew about me drinking my own blood, but he would probably be okay with it if he knew. We have been together since we were 12, and he has always been that bad-boy, keep-your-distance-or-else, emo, tough guy type. I was always into that, but after about 2 years, I realized I didn't want a relationship like that anymore. I wanted to start over. But I knew that Damon would never understand this, and he is too ignorant and destructive to listen to me. So one day I decided to try and sneak out…

Damon was fast asleep, and I was silently getting up, slowly moving forward, making my way to my dresser. I snatched the keys off of the top of my dresser and slowly put them in my pocket. I slipped on my worn out black converse and tiptoed out of the room.

I was in front of the door, pulling on my jacket, when I felt a hand grab my shoulder roughly and whirl me around. I gasped and looked up to see Damon's face, his dark grey eyes glaring down harshly at me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled.

"Um… I… was going… to the store," I stuttered. I knew that he was aware that I was lying and was trying to leave.

"Yeah, right," he snarled. He suddenly grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. He is roughly carried me toward the living room, which is only about a few steps away. He threw me on the tan leather couch and I hit my head on the wall behind it-hard.

He pinned my shoulders to the couch and I couldn't move.

"You are NOT leaving me. You're staying with me, ok!" he spoke in clear, hateful words to me. I could see the anger and viciousness in his eyes, and I knew I couldn't go anywhere.

I nodded, because it's all I can do after that blow to the head.

"You love me, don't you?" He asked me… he was still angry, but I heard the desperation in his voice.

"I do love you, Damon," I told him. And I did. I just couldn't be with him anymore.

So that's what got me running—again. I was running away from my life and running away from Damon, who was sure to come after me if he ever found out where I was going. He didn't know I left of course, but he's definitely found out by now. I left at the crack of dawn this morning, because Damon wasn't home. He was staying at some friend's house, after a party.

I threw whatever I had into 2 suitcases, my must-haves including my converse and black leather knee-high heels, all of my shirts, shorts and pajamas, my makeup and jewelry, my keys, a picture of me and my best friend, and a picture of me and Damon. I put my stuff in my car, and just started driving. I tried to think of the least suspicious place I could go, that no one would suspect. So I just drove, until I started seeing some signs on the road about an upcoming town in Washington, called Forks.

Seemed small and unsuspicious to me, so I decided this was going to be my destination. It was already dark outside, and I was sure I was about half an hour to an hour away from Forks.

I am on a freeway, when I glance in my side view mirror and see a boy strolling on the strip of land on the side of the freeway.

The first thing I notice is that he is shirtless. He is tan and built, with black hair that sticks up in different directions. He looks kind of young. He has a sort of blank expression on his face, and he has a scrunched nose.

I pull over next to him and turn off my car. I open the door and get out. I feel the fresh summer air and the warm breeze blows softly. He notices me and stops walking. I approach him slowly, and stop in front of him.

He just looks at me questioningly for a moment, before speaking.

"Hi… is there something you need?" he says politely and smiles.

"Well, I was just about to ask you the same thing," I say and raise my eyebrow.

"Actually, no. Nothing I need. Well my name's Jacob, by the way," he says and smiles again, showing his perfect white teeth. He extends his hand toward me, for me to shake. I awkwardly reach out and shake his hand, and quickly let go. I unconsciously stroke the scars on my right wrist and look down.

"So what are you doing walking on the freeway? Feeling reckless?" I ask him sarcastically and cock my head to the side slightly. He looks into my baby blue eyes and stares into them for a moment before answering.

"Nope. Just taking a stroll… on the freeway…" he responds.

"Well, it's getting dark. Where you headed to?" I ask curiously, running my hands through my scene looking black hair and adjusting the pink bow in it. My hair had one pink streak on the right side and a coon tail underneath, coming forward and over my shoulder.

"Um… I'm actually headed back to Forks, if you know where that is," he responds shyly.

"Oh, I'm actually going there, too. You… want a ride?" I ask hesitantly.

"Um… well… you sure?" he says unsurely.

"Just get in the car," I say with a wink. I start heading around the back of the car to my side, and get in.

I look through the passenger window and see him standing outside of the car, looking at me. He shrugs and opens the door, getting into my car.