The Start of Fate
My childhood as oppose to others was nothing short of abnormal. I would say weird but it was beyond that.
In Kindergarten while many of the youth would play doll house and dress up, I chose to use my time analyzing. Taking in details of the world around me and letting it sink in. Everything fascinated me, from the dust gathering behind the bookshelves to the brilliant way the light catches my spoon when tilted at the right angle.
Because of this pressing habit of mine, I tended to trip into things, a lot. Whether it be walking into a wall or just tripping on air, nothing was impossible for me to fall over. But that was me, Klutzella.
But that wasn't all that was wrong about me. I was a genius. No, I'm not bragging. I was literally too smart for my own good. I was able to process many things through my observations and find solutions to problems that would leave a third grader perplexed. By watching a persons movements, I was able to, at times, be able to tell what was troubling them. My classmates found it scary while my teachers would find it disturbing.
These "disturbing" aspects in my personality lead me to be in isolation.
Kids tended to shy away from me when I would talk about such things, while the teachers found me to be a lost cause. Thinking that the problem was at home, they scheduled a conference with my mother, Renee Swan, and father, Phil Swan. Let's just say that it ended with a lot of accusations spilling out of the counselor's mouth and screaming from my mom who on more than one occasion tended to over exaggerate.
My mother and father were extremely well off. In summary they had a great amount of money. This being because Renee was the president of a Computer Software company that was handed down from her family. Phil was a baseball player. In truth he wasn't very well known, yet he still managed to get a generous pay. Because of their work, I was hardly ever able to see them. And yet I knew it wasn't their fault. We were still a family. Something I held dear.
I don't doubt that my parents didn't love me. I'm sure they did, but I also knew how much they wished I had more friends. Though I did take pleasure in my solitude from time to time, I still caught myself yearning for a friend to laugh and play with. But I was a freak, an outcast, a weirdo, even at such a young age.
My parents were my best friends. Sure it might sound a bit cliché but its what it is. They understood in their own way that I was unique, yet they thankfully didn't pressure me to be normal. They accepted me, for me.
At the age of 7 my "abilities" became enhanced to the sense in which I can look at a 4th grade math equation and know exactly how to solve it.
Though I was capable to further my learning to skip a grade, I chose not to. Why make myself more known then what I was already?
My parents also felt the same way and supported me in my decision.
My parents. Oh how I miss them. They were my life, no matter how short of a life it was at the time. The day they were taken from me was the day everything changed. The day I lost all hope in everything and anything. It was hell.
FLASHBACK:
My alarm clock flashed 12:00 in a blinding red light. What had woken me up? Shrugging off the prickling sensation I felt, I closed my eyes waiting for sleep to take over.
"No please!"
Startled I jolted up in my bed. That was mommy's voice! Flipping over the covers I flew downstairs as fast as my little feet would carry me, which was pretty fast for a little girl of 9. My steps pattered down the stairs, my eyes widened in horror at the scene taking place before me.
There in the middle of the living room my daddy laid on the floor his eyes glazed in a lifeless manner. His face was ridden of all color, yet I couldn't find any harm done to his body. If it weren't for his pale state or his dead eyes, I would have thought of him as sleeping.
"Bella run!" My eyes flicked over to my mother. She was pressed up against a wall, her neck wrapped in an unbreakable chokehold. The owner of those hands froze me to my place at the foot of the stairs.
His features were prominent and potent. It would seem he were meant to be handsome. But I couldn't seem to think of him that way. Not with the sneer that seemed to be permanently etched into his face. His eyes were a bright ruby and were glaring at me maliciously.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Dessert?" he hissed. His voice was rich. But a sinful chime that left me to shiver involuntarily.
"No! Please leave her alone! She's just a child." My mom yelled. I trembled at the loss of hope in her usually strong voice. Her words were desperate, pleading.
"Shut up!" the man roared. Releasing one of his hands from her throat, he raised it to her face and struck. A sickening crack could be heard, no doubt a break to her jaw, and she screamed in pain but seemed to try to repress it. Seeing her in such a weakened state fueled an anger in me that I didn't once know. I felt the urge to hurt something, someone.
Before I thought to think of the consequences to my actions, I ran head on towards my mother's attacker. Gathering all the strength that I can muster I kicked him, hard, on the knee. He stumbled back. In surprise or in hurt I did not know. But it was enough for him to loosen his grip on my mother, enough for me to tug on his arm and break the hold completely. She slipped to the floor whimpering and I held her trying my best to soothe her, her eyes widened at something behind me.
I turned around to see the intruder with a look of shock on his face, probably from my act of new found strength. But than his face registered to a look of hatred. In a lightning flash movement, he knocked me down across the room from the force of his punch.
"Now, now. Be nice and I might end it quickly for you little one. But for right now sit tight until I'm through with your mother."
He once again grabbed my mom from the throat and lifted her up to his mouth. If one did not know of his intentions, it would look to be a passionate embrace between two lovers. Yet there was nothing nice with what he was about to do.
I cried helplessly as my mom met her fate. Her eyes met mine, filled with sadness and despair.
"Run my Bella. I love you." She whispered before shutting her eyes. His mouth descended upon her throat and he parted it, showing a horrific sight of sharp teeth. He flicked his tongue to meet her skin as if tasting, before he punctured it and drank.
"No! Mommy fight! You have to fight!" I cried out, though I knew it were useless. He continued to drink what I thought to be was her blood. I was sure I was right though I wished I were not.
Within minutes of my moms dying and my screams he finished. By now my shrieks had quieted to whimpers. I knew I should have run but what would have been the use? My dad was dead as was my mom. I had nothing left.
Throwing the lifeless body of my mother heturned to me and smirked.
"You must taste so delicious, with you being young and all. Your blood will be like an energy boost. But enough talk, time to die little one." He purred menacingly. I glared back, deciding that if I were to die, I'll go down fighting.
"Bring it on leech! You think you scare me? Well you don't!" I held his gaze not wanting to be the one to break it. But he laughed.
He actually laughed. That bastard!
He stalked towards me, and crouched down to my level where I stood with my hands on my hips. A patronizing smile played on his lips.
"You got spunk. Too bad it's all a waste."
"And you're pathetic. You think killing me is going to solve your problems," I didn't know where I was going with this. But as the words left my mouth I knew them to be true. "Killing me is not going to save you from what you are. Alone, bitter and evil. You're damned to this life and you choose to further continue as if nothing is the matter. But that's just it. You're life is ruined! So continue with your killing spree. But just remember this; you have no one to depend on. You're pathetic!"
At the last word I made sure to spit in his face. No longer caring of the pain that was about to be inflicted upon me. His face contorted in out rage. No longer caring to torture me just to end me, he bit down hard on my outstretched hand that was raised to strike him in the face.
But I held in my scream though the pain was unbearable. I could feel the pull of my blood straining against his thirst. Not wanting to give in I raised my other hand and formed it into a fist. I brought it down hard to meet his face. He staggered back glaring.
But there was something else. A burning sensation. Fire. I was on fire. It seemed to infuse into my veins in my arm. Taking over the blood he had sucked out. What was this pain?
"Quit it!" he yelled.
"Why should I? I'm not going to make things easier for you to kill me! My parents are gone because of you. Excuse me for not pleasing their murderer. How rude!"
His narrowed as if contemplating. I waited, slowly analyzing what his next move is going to be. He smirked.
"Killing you wouldn't be enough. You think you're better than me? Live in a life where all the people you love are gone." With that he once again bent down to bite upon my hand. But this time he was sucking the fire out.
In horror I slowly began to realize his meaning. He was going to let me live. Without my parents.
"No! No! No! Kill me please!" I squirmed and kicked but he continued to suck it out. The pain and my efforts made me weary. I watched as darkness consumed me and my efforts ceased.
"Have a nice life Bella."
END FLASHBACK
It had happened years ago. Yet I still had nightmares. My life had taken a dramatic turn that day. A turn for the worst. But soon I would get my revenge. Until then I will suffer purgatory from the dreary town of Forks, Washington. Who knows what lurks behind these trees. Adventure?
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