A/N: YEAH ITS ABOUT TIME!! FIGURE!!
I SPENT MOST OF MY TIME READING EVERYONE ELSES STORIES AND I THOUGHT I MIGHT AS WELL GIVE YOU ALL SOMETHING IN RETURN FOR LETTING ME READ YOU BEAUTIFULL IMAGINATIONS!! YH I SUCK BIG TIME!! AGREED!!
I HAVE BEEN INSPIRED TO WRITE THE BEGGINING OF MY FIRST STORY BY SOMEONE SPECIAL AND I WILL USE MY SELF IMAGINATION TO SUCESSFULY COMPLETE THIS STORY IF YOU THINK ITS WORTH FINISHING!!
Little girl
It was dark in the snowy Christmas Eve and in the field to the rear of the house the little girl stood alone. Her red booted feet pounded up and down, crunching in the recently fallen snow. A white woollen bobble hat was pulled down over long and velvety soft hair, while thick matching mittens covered her hands and a bulging pink puffer jacket did its best to guard against winter's icy touch. Peering up at the sky on this cold December night waiting, hoping she began softly singing what had been both hers and her Mommy's favourite Christmas song.
"Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer,
Had a very shiny nose.
And if you ever saw him,
You will even say it glows"
An only child, Isabella Marie Swan had been sent to stay with her father who she never knew existed, in small town called forks. Phil who she once thought was her father was fighting a war in some far away land she could barely pronounce and her Mummy had left them both not quite half a year ago now. Her mummy had gotten slowly weaker and frailer as months had passed. Then, one sunny summer's evening. Phil had come to tell her that Mummy had finally gone. Phil had been given time away from the army and had spent several weeks with his young step-daughter trying to help them both come to terms with what happened not that there was any real way to do such a thing. Isabella was sad, angry, lonely, confused, and often al the same time. And from what she could tell of him, from his often-distracted manner and quick temper, Phil had been the same. Their time together had passed far too quickly and he's eventually had to return to join his friends in far away places. He'd told her they where counting on him, that they needed him; that he had to go. And even after her begging, pleading with him through fearful tears not to, he had left her to go away and rejoin his distant war.
She felt as if he couldn't be around her, as if its far too painful for him to bear. He seems to want to try and flee from the pain his memories caused him, made even worse by young Isabella's incredible resemblance to her late mother. After all why would he still want her? She is not his burden to keep. And so she had gone to live with her biological father Charlie Swan the most loyal chief in Forks. This crumbling place had also been her Mummy's home when she was married to Charlie five years ago before she was born. But before her unexpected arrival Charlie had lived here alone full of her Mummy's memories and now more memories to keep from his beautiful five year old daughter.
Once more her faithful memories of loss returned. Despite the excitement and joy that was Christmas, sadness again swelled with her little chest, swamping everything else. It was just so hard to feel the magic of the season anymore. Young Isabella felt as if this world were forever pushing her, bullying her to become older beyond her tender years with childhood fast becoming nothing bud faded dream. Icy tears now stinging her eyes, she gave a little snuffle and made herself whimper out the next tuneful line of the song.
"All of the other reindeer, used to laugh and call him names…"
"They never let poor Rudolph, join in any reindeer games."
Isabella jumped, squealing with shock at this new, sudden voice singing in to the night.
"Poor Rudolph" the new voice then said in sadness. "Because he's different he's ever the outsider. No matter how the rest of the song tries to tell you otherwise." Turning so fast her weighty winter garments allowed. Isabella's eyes flew to the voice's source. No more than four strides away stood a young boy of around ten years of age. His dark clothed figure motionless and framed against the ghostly white of the night time snow. Enough silver moonlight filtered through the drifting clouds above for Isabella to see most of her immediate surroundings. Enough to see most of this new apparition who had seemingly appeared from nowhere to sing to her about poor Rudolph and plight. The boy stood a taller than she did. His hair was an unusual bronze shade, long and tangled. A straight cold nose and full red lips.
She could see his green eyes, partly hidden in shadow, studying her intently; his mouth fixed in a neutral line, saying nothing more. He wore black trousers and straight black blazer fastening in the middle over a dark coloured shirt buttoned all the way up to the stiff, high collar. His arms were rigid at his sides; palms open and pressing against his legs. The boy looked far too immaculately presentable to be standing alone at night in a frozen snow-clad forest field.
"wh-who are you?" she stammered. "How did you get here?"
"My name is Edward," he answered in a light voice, sounding as a ten-year-old should sound. "And how did I get here?" A little smile curved his lips. "I flew." His hands rose, placed themselves side by side, and waggled the air, "like a bird."