Hey! So funny thing, I was reading "Silence" by musically inclined (good story, btw, I suggest you go read it!) one night, and the next day I was sitting in my AP English Literature class and was all 'I think I want to write a fanfic'. Next thing you know I was jotting down idea after idea and it was like a lightbulb clicked on in my head. *cue lightbulb* I'm going to write a fic where Bella is a vampire who doesn't speak and she's going to be all mysterious and then…blah blah blah, etc'…it was all very fascinating, and my best friend had an amusingly confused look on her face when she saw my frantic scribblings in my notebook.

Okay, so it isn't that funny, but really…this story is inspired by "Silence" written by musically inclined. So thank you musically inclined! *shouts and hopes she can hear me*

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, no these characters do not belong to me. They belong to the wonderful world created by Stephanie Meyer.

Chapter One - Strange Attraction

"Isabella! Isabella, the dinner has arrived." Felix peered expectantly at me from the doorway to my room; though what he expected was beyond me. The burly vampire had known me for three years and not once had I 'dined' with him—or the rest of them, for that matter.

By 'the rest of them' I mean the Volturi. I pulled down my face in disgust and continued fingering random notes on the piano. I didn't speak. In fact, I never spoke. Not since I'd 'woken up' (for there isn't a better term to describe the odd predicament I'd been in) one June morning to the faces of Aro, Jane, and Demitri. Before that? I had no idea. I didn't remember much before that moment. I didn't remember anything at all.

Felix hissed, getting my attention, and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. Reluctantly I let my slender fingers slip from the keys to my lap and I watched him impassively as he threw himself—gracefully, of course—onto my bed.

I narrowed my eyes, signaling my displeasure.

"Ah, Isabella. Lovely Isabella." I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, annoyed. "Why won't you speak to me? You can only live so long without talking, you know." He misinterpreted my incredulous look as something else. "Okay, so we don't 'live' necessarily; but you can't go the rest of your existence without talking!"

I wanted to open my mouth and tell him just how wrong he was, but I kept silent. Like usual. Didn't he realize that if I could go three years without speaking, I could keep it that way for as long as I wanted? Unlike most of the vampires in Volterra, I had an abundance of self-control, and my mind was disciplined.

Now I had control over my voice, but I didn't at first. I didn't have a choice. When I had woken, for lack of a better word, it was like some sort of magic constricted my throat, keeping me from speaking. It confused me at first. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't!

It was downright terrifying, not being able to utter a single sound. Everything was new and I had so much to say, so many questions to ask! Why was I here? How did I get here? Why don't I remember anything from before that day? Why wasn't I allowed out of Volterra? Any why, oh why, did little Jane seem to hate me on sight?

True, that last question may not seem like a pretty big deal, and maybe it wasn't; but the moment I woke up to Jane's furious glare—a glare that could send even a vampire to hell and back five times over—I had made it my mission to find out why she despised me so much. I'm thinking 'despised' is too nice of a word, actually. If she could rip me apart, put me back together, rip me apart again, and then burn me bit by bit she would do so with a smile on her face and a whistle on her angelic little lips.

It was a good thing Aro would never let that happen.

Slowly, day by day the force of the constriction lessened to the point where I could talk of my own free will.

But I didn't. I didn't want to. I didn't even know why I wouldn't let a single word fall from my full lips, but some part of myself was telling me that I shouldn't. Only I was keeping myself from speaking, and I promised myself that it would stay that way for as long as I existed.

A slight movement caught my well-trained vampire senses. Felix had tired of my silence—oh if he only knew the internal monologues I had, he would be so proud—and left, a scowl on his beautiful face.

He didn't come back.

I returned tinkering on my beloved piano, my fingers gliding over the keys like water over rocks. I couldn't explain why exactly, but the sound of a piano soothed me. I'd been exploring the castle one day—about four months after my sudden arrival—and I'd heard the most glorious of all glorious sounds. It struck something in me, pulling my body towards it without my consent. My feet went willingly towards the ethereal music like a horse towards water and I found that I craved the sound. I hungered for it.

For two weeks I waited by the door, making myself invisible by blending into the shadows; but no one came to play for me. I don't know why they stopped—I don't even know who 'they' are. All I knew was that if I didn't hear the beautiful, heart-wrenching music again, I would curl up into a little ball and die.

If only vampires could die so easily, I thought wryly.

My time came a week later when Aro let me out of the castle on one of my 'freedom days', as I had come to call them. Every other Saturday he would graciously allow me to wander Volterra aimlessly with Demitri, who had come to be like a brother to me; though a few guards still followed us on his command. He didn't know I knew about them, but I did. I knew lots of things.

Really, just because I wouldn't talk didn't mean I was completely brain dead, though some members of the Volturi obviously thought otherwise.

It was a cloudy July day, perfect for an afternoon stroll through the beautiful city. Demitri agreed, commenting on his relief that we didn't have to wear those god-awful cloaks. I silently agreed.

Humans stared at us as we passed, giving us a wide berth. Demitri muttered a few choice words under his breath and I smiled, giggling in my head. Demitri was the only vampire who could make me smile. None of the others could, much to Aro's chagrin. From the beginning Aro had made it clear he wanted me to adore him, ravish him with praise, and basically be like Heidi. The woman sucked up to Aro like no other and he rewarded her well for it.

I wasn't going to degrade myself by groveling at the man's feet, but I wasn't purposely defiant of him. Besides the not-talking-thing, that was not under negotiation. I stuck to the wretched diet they had, as Aro had told me 'unfortunately, there was no other option.' That was another mission of mine, to somehow find a way to survive without killing innocent humans.

I had yet to succeed.

"Bella?" I was torn from my reverie by his deep voice in my ear. Out of all the vampires in Volterra, he was the only one who seemed to understand what I wanted, what I liked and disliked…and somehow he knew I had a major aversion to my full name.

That was yet another small detail that had been haunting me since my awakening. Aro and every other member of the Volturi seemed to know everything about me. More than I, myself, knew when I woke up. But how?

Demitri repeated my name, following it with a touch to my shoulder and I looked up, squinting my eyes to show I was listening. "Where are we going today?" Naturally, I didn't answer. Now normally I would merely shrug my shoulders and keep walking, squandering away those precious hours I had by observing humans and animals and anything else I set my eyes on.

But today…today was different.

We wandered the streets and I kept my sharp eyes searching for the one place I wanted to go. I needed to go. It wasn't too long before I spotted it—the dim, decrepit-looking building that sold beautiful pianos. Grabbing Demetri's hand I pointed imperiously at the shop and he laughed, causing some of the mortals to stop and stare at the two inhumanly beautiful creatures.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not pleased that he had called attention to our presence. He merely shrugged and nodded towards the stop. My anger disappeared as I towed him towards the soon-to-be savior of my existence, my baby, my very own piano.

So what do you guys think? Should I keep writing it? Do you have suggestions? Questions? Comments? Yes, I know you guys do, so leave a review! Constructive criticism is welcomed (needed, actually) but FLAMERS SHALL BE STRUCK BY LIGHTENING! As soon as I convince Zeus to lend me his lightning bolt thrower-thing-a-majig, that is.

Review!

xoxo,
Emily