Chapter 1: Introducing Me

As I walk through the rain, I cursed my mother. I quote from my mother, Renee, 'Those clouds are high in the sky, dearie. It will not start raining until you are safely indoors.' Then what is this wet stuff falling from the sky? I sighed. My mother could be a little inaccurate, especially about the weather.

Collecting my now-wet garments from the cloths line, I quickly walked back to the farm. My tutor always had said to not run, to only walk fast if necessary. It was unladylike, she stated. Me? I really couldn't care.

I trudged through the back door of our farm. Charles, my father, acknowledged my return with a swift nod. He was fixing up the grain for the pigs, a job that I felt was disgusting. One not only had to mix the grain for the food, but empty the trough as well. The trough was one the other wall of the pig sty, and to get to it one had to cross through the pig's…digested food. And I frankly found it repulsive.

I stalked through the door leading into the kitchen, on the way dumping the wet cloths on the bench. My youngest sister, Jesse, bumped into me clumsily as I rounded the oven. She was the most outgoing of us all. By all I mean my older sister, Rosalie, me, Bella, my younger (but not youngest) sister, Angela, and of course, Jesse.

Rosalie was the Aphrodite, Greek goddess of beauty, of our family. Her long blonde hair fell half-way down her back and her violet blue eyes were penetrating, but in a calm way. Her exquisite facial features always show a content expression and her body is perfect. She is caring as well. I think she is aware of her beauty, but she does not show it off. She is the best big sister I could ask for.

The 3rd in our family, Angela, is the quietest of us. She has thin, brown hair and her cheekbones are a little too high in comparison to her shallow lips. She is not beautiful, or even pretty, but she is different. Most of all, she does not care for her looks, similar to Rosalie, but she is trustworthy and honourable.

Jesse, well, she is basically the opposite of Angela. She is loud, sometimes annoyingly so, and is made of mischief. She had dark, thick curls and her eyes are the same blue as Rose's. She is blessed by Angel's Kisses(AN: Freckles. That's what my mum calls them :P), lucky thing. She is also a flirt, and that can be embarrassing.

And me, I'm just plain jane, I suppose. I don't really look at myself too closely. My mid-back length hair is a deep brown while my skin is white. My lips are full while my cheekbones are high. So basically, all my features clash with one another. And my eyes are different. They are chocolate brown and Rosalie says they are depthless. I don't believe her.

Jesse continued on her way after a muttered apology. I made my way towards the fire and started to take of my gloves and boots. It had been freezing outside. The rain had fallen in the gap between my glove and cuff and it had frozen into a chilling ice. I snapped the ice off and heated my freezing hands on the fire. Once again, I cursed my mother. Why did she send me out, not one of my sisters?

My mother was an excellent cook, though. That was her major. She had come from a rich family whose mother knew how to cook. She had met Charles in a ballroom and had completely fallen to his charms. She married him 3 months later.

My mother was in the kitchen cooking now. She was absent-mindedly humming to herself as she worked. She hands flew over the food and she looked extremely happy in her place.

Then Jesse rushed back into the kitchen, Rosalie and Angela in tow.

"Mother, when is dinner going to be ready? (AN: They called lunch dinner in the 1800's. Strange, isn't it?) Jesse demanded up front. She was very demanding when it came to food. Not that she was fat.

"I have to finish spreading the oil, so in a few minutes we can eat." Mother answered in her calm, reassuring voice. It had a pleasant ring to it I had always envied.

"Well, we can wait a few minutes then." Rosalie had inherited our mother's beautiful voice. How come she got all the good characteristics of our family and I merely received what was left over?

My sisters and I sat down at the dining table and made small talk. Then Jesse, who always heard the town gossip, said some surprising news.

"Did you know that we got invited to a ballroom party?"

I started in my seat. I loved dancing, especially ballroom! I leapt out of my seat, not very ladylike as Jesse cared to inform me, and hurried into the kitchen. Mother was just walking out with a pot of delicious lamb stew in her hands.

"Is it true, Mother, that there is going to be a party? And is it true we are invited?"

My Mother's eyes twinkled when she answered my question. "Let me put this stew down, and feed your sisters, and then I will talk."

I sighed and slipped back into my seat. My father then walked into the room, obviously tired after his half-day's work. He dropped into his seat and hungrily eyed the stew. We all knew how much he loved Mother's cooking.

Father then ladled stew into first his bowl, then Mother's, then Rosalie's and so forth. We always did it in that order. I do not know why.

Finally, after Jesse had scalded her tongue from taking a too big spoon of stew, Mother began to talk.

"Girls, there is indeed a Ballroom party in the McCarty Mansion. Esme, my dearest friend, has invited me and my family, if you wish to come."

All was silent. Even Jesse kept her mouth closed. Then our voices began to creep into our mouths.

-"Of course I would like to go! Please can I go, Mama?" That was Jesse. She insisted on calling Mother 'Mama' for reasons unknown.

-"Oh Mother, can we please go?" That of course was Rosalie's beautiful voice. She always included herself as others and never asked a favour just for herself. The opposite of Jesse actually.

-"Renee, let the girls go. You can see they are dying t-" Charles' deep voice was cut off by Mother.

"Alright, I can see you want to go. The party is at the McCarty's Mansion and it starts at 6:00 tonight. Girls, I am letting you take the rest of today off for getting ready for the party. Now run upstairs and pick out your best dresses for the party. You want to look presentable, after all."

I forgot. That was Mother's other talent. She loved to play matchmaker. I promise she had tried to marry Rosalie to a rich gentleman at least 10 times. Rosalie, of course, refused to marry the men.

Jesse, Angela, Rosalie and I all cried "Thankyou, Mother!" and raced up stairs. We had a party to prepare for, after all.