Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, as if you hadn't guessed!


You know how an eclipse only lasts for a short while? The sun disappears and the momentary darkness feels strange because you're just so used to the sun being there- it would never go away, right?

Well I thought I was just experiencing an eclipse- but how wrong I'd been. My sun was never coming back. The moon had moved over, blocking all light and somehow- during the darkness that followed- someone had stolen the sun. Right before my eyes. When the moon moved and continued its journey through space there was nothing behind it, only darkness.

Then somehow, someone had started to snatch the stars too, taking the pin pricks of light and leaving the world pitch black. At least, that's what it felt like to me anyway.

Someone, somewhere, was conspiring against me, of that I was certain. I wasn't usually the type of person to wallow in self pity and ask 'why me?' in fact I used to hate those people- until I understood them.

I had been happy once- more than happy. I wasn't the brightest, the prettiest or the richest, but that didn't matter- I was content and considered myself lucky. I had a devoted family, a childhood so many dreamed about, and a boyfriend who loved me, despite- what my father would call- my fiery tendencies. Of course, it only tended to flare up when I saw injustices- like when I saw my sweet, caring brother being bullied.

Thinking of Seth I sighed. He'd been acting so different lately. I couldn't say that I blamed him; dad's death had been hard on us all. It was still hard. I occasionally saw flashes of the innocent child Seth used to be, full of an optimism and enthusiasm that could only be borne out of never seeing the hardships of the world- but for the past few weeks he'd barely spoken to me, preferring to spend all of his time out with his friends. I felt so bad for him. He was growing up, quite swiftly actually- he must have shot up at least six inches in the past couple of months- and he no longer had his father to guide him through it.

I dressed slowly and made my way downstairs. The house was empty- mom at work and Seth, as per usual, was out with his friends. I didn't really know who he was hanging around with, and I instantly felt guilty. This was something that I should be paying attention to. Seth needed someone to look out for him now. I made a mental note to talk to my mother about it later as I grabbed a bowl of cereal and headed into the lounge to watch re-runs of Jeopardy.

This was my life now. Get up. Have breakfast. Watch TV. Fix lunch. Do some chores. Eat dinner. Go to bed. It had been the same for almost two months now. Just under two agonising, long, hard months. One month, two weeks and four days since my father, my sun, had disappeared from my life, taking all my hopes and dreams with him. Not that I had been fine before he…passed- far from.

Sam had left me last year. I couldn't believe it. I knew we had our problems but I thought we were really trying. I was trying, so hard. But it obviously hadn't been enough. We had been together for four year- four amazingly happy years. I had willingly given most of my teenage life to Sam and I never thought I'd regret it. In fact I still didn't regret it. No matter what heartache I had endured, I was still in love with him. It's funny how you can be so in love with someone and yet, at the same time, hate them so completely, as I do now.

I was still mourning the loss of my relationship when my second-cousin, Emily, had been attacked by a bear. I blamed myself entirely. If I hadn't asked her to come and stay with me she would have never been in the woods that day. The guilt I felt was indescribable. I had been so selfish, asking her to comfort me, and she had gotten hurt.

Sam was always in my mind though. He had made it clear that we could never be together again and I thought, with time, that I could get over him- move on. Not to something bigger and better, I couldn't see how anyone would be more right for me than Sam. But then I saw them- Sam and Emily- walking hand in hand down the beach, bandages still covering the claw marks than now stained her arm and beautiful face. At first I assumed that Sam was merely comforting her, and I was pleased to see that despite our separation he was still looking out for my family. He always knew how much Emily had meant to me. But then he turned towards her, a look of pure devotion on his face before he slowly leant down and gently kissed her.

I must have been at least one hundred foot away from them on the beach but he still heard my gasp. Looking up, he leapt away from Emily, guilt washing over his perfect features but it was too late- I'd seen everything. I turned and sprinted as fast as I could towards my house but he caught up with me easily.

"Leah," he breathed, clutching my arm and spinning me to face him, "Lee-Lee I'm s…"

"Don't say you're sorry Sam. Don't you even think of saying sorry," I'd whispered, tears threatening to spill. "How could you?"

"It's…I'm…I can't…I can't explain Leah. I wish I could. God I wish I could."

"Then let me go."

"Please, please don't leave like this?" he pleaded as I noticed Emily round the corner onto the street.

I had to get away. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to speak to her. I struggled to pry my arm free of his grasp, but he was too strong. Despite my desperate struggles he seemed to be holding me in place with ease.

"Leah?" Emily asked tentatively.

"How could you?" I repeated, not looking in her direction, "My cousin, practically my SISTER!" I had tried so hard to keep calm but I couldn't care less that I was shouting now. "LET ME GO!"

Sam instantly released my arm, causing me to stumble back. I quickly regained my balance and resumed running home.

"Leah?" Emily had called after me again.

I stopped dead in my tracks. There was nothing that she could say that would ever make this better, that would ever make this ok. With my back still facing her I'd replied, "I have nothing to say to you."

I had managed to run the rest of the way home before collapsing on the porch, sobs wracking my body. My heart was already broken, but that day last August, it had shattered.

I flicked through the TV channels trying to find something that would occupy my mind. I hated thinking back on that day, but I couldn't help it. So much had changed in such a relatively short space of time that my brain still struggled to comprehend it. Sometimes I still woke up thinking 'what will me and Sam do today?' and planning on going to the movies, or shopping in Port Angeles with him. That stung, but it was nothing compared to the days when I would wake up expecting my father to be downstairs, getting ready his fishing gear and heading off with Charlie and Billy. Those days were the hardest.

Again, I blamed myself for his passing. He had been ill for a while. We all knew that-although Harry hadn't accepted it himself- and we tried our best to help him, making him rest and doing things he claimed he was perfectly capable of doing for himself. But if I hadn't been in such a dark hole, if I had just tried to put a brave face on things, maybe I would have, could have, done more for him. I knew he was worried about me, Sam had proposed to Emily on Valentines Day and I had found out from the La Push gossip mill. My parents both knew and they tried to keep it from me, but they didn't factor in me bumping into a certain Ms. Call, La Push's resident gossip, when I went to the store.

I didn't blame them for trying to keep it from me- I was a shell of my former self by then, only venturing out of the house to the shops or to go the my receptionists job at a little hotel in Forks. I had originally taken the year off, saving money so that me and Sam could go to college. Those plans had been blown out of the water but I'd been determined to go on my own, not least to escape the reservation.

I had heard the news; Sam Uley was marrying Emily Young. My heart didn't break once again- it was already broken beyond repair by that point. It still managed to make me retreat into myself even more though- spending most of my free time in my room, never doing anything past staring at the ceiling. If only I hadn't gone to the store that day. If only I hadn't heard about the engagement. If only I had spent more time with my father. If only I had helped him more.

If only

Those two words circled round and round in my head most days. But I could never turn back the clock. My father was gone and no amount of 'if onlys' were ever to bring him back. At night I could still hear my mom's frantic screams as she called for the ambulance. I'd rushed downstairs to find my dad keeled over, clutching his arm, gasping for breath.

The funeral had been too much for me. The whole of the Quileute tribe gathered to say goodbye to a man they all respected, their elder, their friend, my dad. I phoned work the day after, saying I wouldn't be back.

Now my life was a monotonous cycle, day in day out. I wouldn't say I was living at the moment- I was barely surviving.

I heard a low rumble and I instantly recognised it as my mother's old sedan pulling into the driveway. I was proud of her; she was slowly beginning to take more and more shifts at the hospital- trying to rebuild what she had left of her life. I wished I could say the same for myself.

"Hi sweetheart," she called, setting her keys down on the small table beside the door, "How's your day been?"

"It's been ok," I replied, standing to help her bring some grocery bags to the kitchen. "How was work?"

"Oh you know, this and that," she waved her hand flippantly then put the kettle on.

She didn't talk about work much anymore, and when she did she never went into details- too much death and devastation.

Not for the first time I wondered how she could go back to working there. Did every death remind her of her husband? Did every heartbroken family remind her of her own? I felt tears starting to prick my eyes, but I held them back, biting my tongue in the process. My mother- so unbelievably strong in dealing with her own grief- did not need to see my tears. Not that she hadn't seen them before.

She frowned, "Are you ok sweetheart? You look like something's troubling you."

"I'm fine mom re…" I started to reply automatically before I remembered what I'd been thinking about earlier. "Actually there is something I want to talk about."

She set two cups of coffee on the kitchen table before motioning me to sit. "What is it?" she asked tentatively.

"It's about Seth," I started, pulling my waist length hair over my shoulders to play with the ends, a nervous habit I'd developed years ago.

She looked cautious as she noticed what I was doing but she replied in a casual tone, "Oh?"

"I'm just worried about him mom. He's moody, he's never home. I know it's been difficult for all of us since…" I hestitated, not wanting to mention my father. We didn't talk about him a lot; the pain was still too fresh for both of us.

She took a sip of coffee and reached across the table and took my free hand, squeezing it gently. "Honey it's ok," she reassured, "We're all going through a pretty tough time at the moment. It still hurts, but I'm so glad to see that you're looking out for your brother," she smiled, causing the tears in her eyes to gently spill over, slowly meandering their way down her cheeks.

"But that's just it mom," I said, tugging at my hair in frustration- I didn't want to get upset, "I'm not looking out for him at all." She pulled her eyebrows down in confusion so I added quietly, "I don't even know who he's spending all his time with. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've been so wrapped up in myself I didn't even think about it. What if he's up to no good mom?"

I didn't want to believe that Seth would ever get into trouble- he had always been such a good kid- but grief makes a person do strange things. Although I was still so upset by my dads' death I was also becoming increasingly angry. It wasn't always over why it had happened either. Sometimes I was angry at him, for leaving us, for promising to always be there for me and then bam, he's gone. And then afterwards I felt such overwhelming guilt- it wasn't my dad's fault he wasn't there, he hadn't broken his promises on purpose like Sam had.

"Leah, I'm sure Seth isn't in any trouble. I just don't think he wants to spend time in the house."

That was understandable; everywhere I looked I was reminded of dad. I couldn't blame him for not wanting to be here. At least he had school to get him out of the house too. But that wasn't the only thing bothering me.

"But who is he hanging around with mom?"

She blanched slightly but I didn't have time to ask her why because she answered, "Well, I know he spends time with Jacob Black, and his two friends, Embry and Quil."

"Aren't they a couple of years older than him?" I frowned. I'd known Jacob for years. I had been good friends with his sisters, and Rachel still called me from time to time. Because of the time I spent at their house growing up I had met Quil and Embry on a few occasions. I didn't really know much about them.

"Oh I'm sure they're fine. Come on, we've known Jacob for years, he's always been a good kid."

"I guess," I mumbled, taking a sip of my coffee.

Her tone lightened then, "While we're on the subject of what my kids are up to." She said, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Urg, mom, I don't know ok?" We'd had this conversation before.

"But Leah, it's been a while since… I think it's been long enough now." She stuttered over her words. We both knew this was a shaky subject, liable to make either one, or both of us upset.

"I just can't," I whispered, looking down at the table, "Not now. Not yet."

I couldn't hold the tears anymore, and I sniffed as they made their way down my face, splashing onto the table.

She squeezed the hand she was still holding, "I'm sorry. I just hate seeing you like this. I'm worried about you- you don't do anything anymore and I think you'd feel better if you had something to focus on. I know I've been feeling better since I started work again. You know I don't want to upset you." She said softly.

I knew she didn't, but did she not understand that I wasn't as strong as her? I'd never said it out loud but hadn't she noticed? My pride wouldn't let me say it out loud- Sam had made me vulnerable, a position I never wanted to be in again, even if it was with my own mother. So I didn't say anything.

"You had so many things you wanted to do. What about college? You could still go. It'd be a fresh start, away from La Push. Nobody can run from their problems, but getting away might just give you a chance to heal."

"I guess you're right," I sighed.

"Just think about it, honey. That's all I'm asking." She got up, taking our now empty coffee cups to the sink before announcing that she was going to change out of her uniform.

I just sat there, still twirling my hair around my right hand, mulling over what she had said. She was right; I couldn't just stay at home and do nothing, where would that get me? I hadn't wanted to even move during the past couple of months, never mind function like a normal human being, but perhaps that was the problem. If I had kept my job and escaped the house for a while then maybe I wouldn't feel like this right now. Maybe I'd be on my way to healing myself.

But what about college? Did I still want to go? There were two reasons why I'd decided to go to college without Sam. The first one was to show him that I would not be beaten, I was going to do something with my life. After he'd disappeared for two weeks he'd insisted he didn't want to go to college anymore, I didn't understand at the time- I still don't- but I'd agreed that I wouldn't go either. After he left me I thought I'd go to spite him. I was still angry at him now, fuming even- to the point where my hands would shake sometimes- but I didn't have enough fight left in me to do something out of revenge.

The other reason to go to college was simple; I wanted to escape the reservation. When I'd been planning with Sam we had decided that we would always come back, using our skills in the community we'd grown up in. We hadn't used it as an excuse to escape, like Rachel Black had done; we hadn't wanted to. But that was then, this is now. Did I want to escapes La Push now? Definitely. Not only did I have constant reminders of both my dad and Sam littered throughout the tiny village- from the tree where me and Sam carved our initials, to the tribal office where my dad used to tell me the tribes stories and show me the paintings- but also the looks from all its residents. Looks of pity for the girl who had been dumped. Looks of accusation from those who thought I must have done something horrible to good old Sam Uley to warrant such a breakup. The looks of sympathy or devastation for the girl who'd lost her father. I didn't want their looks, and I didn't need their whispered comments and I realised, with great surprise at the determination behind the thought, I wanted and I needed out.

I had made my decision. I would leave La Push. I would leave my childhood home, the only place I had ever known- and I wasn't sure I'd ever come back.


A/N: Okay, so this chapter and the next couple are set about a month before Eclipse begins. I'm trying to stay as close to the books as possible, so this story isn't particularly a Blackwater fic. I've listed Jacob as a main character onl because for the majority of the story the only information the pack gains is when Jacob has seen Bella, so he's pretty central to the story. I'm intending to carry this on until the Eclipse epilogue and by that stage Leah and Jacob hate each other and I want to explore how they get to that stage.

Anyway, I'm hoping to upload the next chapter in a couple of days. I'll stop talking now, hope you enjoyed.