Disclaimer: So this idea has been mauling around in my head for a very long time, and so I thought I would put it up. I do not own the Twilight Saga, nor do I own the books. Please leave a review! =)

Summary: With James dead, Isabelle and Edward back together, Carlisle has had the idea of adopting a child for a long time. He feels it would be the ultimate test for Jasper, but a major transition for his youngest son and so decides to go through with it. He enters the adoption home, planning to adopt a child, but instead he finds Charlotte. EmbryOC

Prologue

Everyone explains how lucky I am, and I know that they are right. I get three square meals a day, a lot more than what some orphans or even orphanages can say. I have clothes, no matter how minimal; enough just to last me the week and sometimes charities give us new shoes, and we always look for the warm ones for winter. I have a roof over my head, one that keeps me sheltered from storms, even though I usually need to repair it over the summers. I know I should be grateful, but I can't help but feel that something is missing.

Of course when I was little, I didn't understand what was missing. But now that I'm older it's rather obvious what is missing; a family.

I lost my family in a fire; I don't remember much of that night. The fog of age eased those memories from my mind, but still left small little traces for me to remember. I know I woke up, in my crib, wailing for my mother. I don't know if I had a bad dream, or if I just got scared, but I know I was getting angry because my mother wouldn't come to me. After all, she had been there the countless other times that I cried out for her, needed her for something, why wouldn't she come help me now? I remember over my cries, hearing a painful shout then someone pounding on something, a door, maybe? And then a fire, I remember staring at the ceiling, screaming in fear as a red wall rose up where the door was, but then a fireman was there.

His name was David Pariotte. I was certain to learn his name and I'd send him letters of thanks and tell him everything I do. I don't know if he actually reads them, or if he just tosses them away, but it makes me feel better to write him letters and tell him that if he hadn't gotten there on time, I would be dead and wouldn't be alive.

Sometimes I try to remember what my parents looked like, I've drawn picture of what they might look like, because of how I look. I think my mother might have had a round, small face, like myself. I like to think that I look a bit more like my father though, blonde hair, blue eyes, and easily tanned skin. But I suppose I get my mother's height as well. Sadly though, whenever I'm finished with a drawing, I know this is only my imagination, and that there are many variations of what my parents look like.

I haven't been adopted because I have a bad attitude or anything; I'm not quiet and reserved, or hostile and angry. I like to think I'm a rather pleasant person, I get along well with others and I stay active because I know that's very valuable to colleges, and I know that college is the only chance I have to get away from here. After all, I'm turning sixteen in just a couple of months, adults don't want to adopt teenagers, they want a baby that they can raise on their own.

"Charlotte, would you come up to the board and do problem 25?" Her teacher kindly asked me, and I nodded, rising from my chair and walking over to the whiteboard and beginning to write down the problem. Of course my mind was on anything else but the problem I was writing, was there something on the bottom of my jeans? Was I writing crooked? Could anyone even read my handwriting?

"Nicely done, Charlotte," my teacher said as I finished, I hadn't even realized I finished the problem as I capped the marker and gave a smile and started to head towards my desk before some sort of employee knocked on our door and poked her head in.

"Looking for a Charlotte Bryson," the employee said, and immediately what followed was a chorus of "ooh"s. The teacher tried to get ahold of her class, but I could already feel my cheeks staining red with embarrassment was already blushing in embarrassment. Moving quickly, I whacked at one of my friends who pointed at me as though I was in trouble, my classmates who giggled and whispered wondering what I could have possibly done to get me sent to the principal, I snatched my bag and my skate board and quickly followed the employee out of the classroom who seemed unaware that he had completely embarrassed me in front of my classmates.

He said nothing to me as he led me down the hallway, eventually going into the office. The principal was on the phone with someone so I was asked to take a seat until he was ready for me. The office was small, but not cramped. I couldn't help but think about how most of these employees probably just sat on their butts all day and did nothing. At least that's what it seemed and looked like they did all day. The chairs were plastic and hard as I sat and waited, I felt as though I was in grade school again. Finally when the principal was finished with his phone call he gestured me into his room.

I had to admit, I was rather nervous about seeing Mr. Pittsenburg at this time, I was never called out of class. But I never got into trouble either and I had seen the principal before, usually for honor rolls and mathlete awards. I rubbed my surprisingly sweaty palms on my jeans as I dropped my bag and board on the ground and took a seat.

"You are being let out early, your taker Ms. Morris wants you to head straight to the orphanage," he stated simply.

Confused, I tried to realize if something had happened. Immediately Katie, a young girl that I seemed to bond well with, "Is everything okay," I ask. Worry flooding me as I thought of my younger sister being hurt for some reason in some way.

"Everything is fine," he assured me calmly, "You should go see your taker. She'll explain everything."

Naturally this only made me curious, so with a signed sheet to hand to anyone that might stop me on my way home, I pulled my backpack onto my back and then headed out the school. I rode slowly on my board, for some reason worried that I may be in some sort of trouble. Nothing came to mind of what I did wrong though, so I couldn't quite believe that I had done anything wrong. But the closer I arrived back to the orphanage, the heavier my heart sank, and the more I didn't want to show up.

Entering through the front doors, Ms. Morris was actually at the door with this huge grin on her face when I entered. I immediately stopped myself from riding through the lobby like I usually did, kicking up my board I looked nervous at my caretaker.

"Uh," I said dumbly, uncertain what to say to her.

"You've been adopted!"

So what do you think? Please leave a review, add a comment, anything! I'll be working on the next chapter =)