~~Aloha, Twihards! Anyone else wanna go to Hawii desperately? I do. Too freaking cold up here...

Anyway... I do not own Twilight, Jake, Nessie, Eddie, Bella, Rose... and this little part here is an exerpt from BD in my own words. I don't own Stephanie Meyer's ingenious plot, only the one I made up in my trainwreck-of-a-brain...

Alright, I'll stop rambling up here now and let you read my other, story-like ramblings.~~

Prologue: The Beginning

My mother stared at me with big brown eyes full of love, adoration, and slight pain. Her face was nearly sheet white; her limp, brown hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Even as sick as she looked, she was very beautiful. Her pale lips curved up in a weak smile. "Renes... mee." she rasped my name. "So... beautiful." I smiled. Then her breath washed over my face, delicious and irresistible. I acted on instinct, biting into her soft chest. My mother gasped in shock and pain, and I was whisked away from her.

My father looked at me with his coal-black eyes, wagging a finger at me. "No, Renesmee." he scolded lightly in a musical voice. He smelled so sweet, I smiled, inhaling as far as I could. His brown hair was short, and his skin perfect, whiter than my mother's, and hard. His face was beautiful, like my mother's, but in a much different way.

I heard my mother's heart beat stutter once, but the rhythm steadied quickly. There was a loud huff that accompanied every beat. It was much different from her labored breathing, my father's steady breaths, and mine. Someone else was in the room, I realized. I sniffed at the air lightly. My father's sweet smell, much like my own mix between his and my mother's, was the most potent. Second, my mother's. I ignored how it set my throat on fire, concentrating on the last smell.

It was terrible, but I was curious to who or what it was coming from. It smelled like... well, I had no idea, since I'd only ever smelled my father, mother, myself, and this thing. It was mildly repulsive, though. Nothing like the other, sweeter smells that filled the room.

The long, muffled sound of someone breathing out interrupted my thoughts.

"What are you waiting for?" the other occupant of the little room asked breathlessly. His voice was husky, deep, and warm, even as stressed as it was. Not as smooth as my father's, but beautiful, in its own way.

"Take the baby." My father said, holding me at arm's-length, towards the other person. I saw a glimpse of short, uneven black hair before it bobbed back down in time with the huffs.

"Throw it out the window." The husky voice was hard, but still breathless.

"Give her to me." Another voice said. It was musical, like my father's, but higher.

Two growls, one husky and one smooth, startled me a bit.

"I've got it under control." the high voice said. "Give me the baby, Edward. I'll take care of her until Bella..." the voice trailed off, and, with a slightly reluctant expression, my father passed me quickly to this other person.

As we flew down a flight of stairs, I studied her face. She was beautiful, like my mother and father. Her hair was beautiful, as well. Long and golden, it curled its way down past my line of vision. Her eyes were black, like my father's, and full of love and adoration, like my mother's. Also like my father, her skin was pale white, and very hard. On the other hand, her full, red lips curved up into a smile that was a stronger version of my mother's.

I reached up, touched her smooth, hard cheek, and smiled back at her. She gasped. My smile vanished, my eyebrows mashing together. "What is wrong?" I wanted to ask her. A shocked look flashed over her face, then understanding.

"Nothing is wrong." she said. "You are just very beautiful." She smiled again.

Now it was my turn to be shocked. My hand fell from her face. She had heard me? How...? In the back of my mind, I wondered about something less concerning, but just as intriguing: I was beautiful? Like her? Like my father? Like my mother? I hoped it was all of them.

I hesitantly placed my hand back on her cheek. I tried to show her what she had just said, and how I had questioned it.

She chuckled and nodded. "Very." she assured me. "You look so much like your father. But..." She paused, looking carefully into my eyes. "You do have your mother's eyes." She said, smiling involuntarily.

This made me very happy. I replayed the last couple of seconds to her, adding anticipation.

"What, do you want to see yourself?" she wondered.

I showed her my excitement at her words.

"Alright." she agreed, carrying me over to a wall. There was something reflective hanging there. When we stood in front of it, I saw her, carrying a tiny little thing, covered in red, with red-blonde hair that was curlier than hers, pale skin under the red, and white little teeth under a smile of anticipation. I turned back and showed her the picture, with a questioning edge to it.

"Yes." she murmured. "That's you."

I showed her another picture. My mother, whispering my name. I added another questioning edge.

"Yes, you are called Renesmee. I am called Rosalie. You can call me Aunt Rose, if you like."

I showed her herself saying "Aunt Rose", with a happy edge to it. Then I showed her my father's face, with the same questioning edge.

"His name is Edward, but I'm sure he'll want you to call him 'Dad'."

Then I showed her my mother's in the same way.

"Bella." she whispered. "Her name is Bella. But she will want you to call her 'Mom'."

Mom. I thought. My beautiful Mom.

~~Soooo? Whatchya think? I love reviews with a firey passion, by the way... ;]

Tell me what your favorite thing about this little chapter is, any random thoughts, and praise is always nice and heart-warming, too....

Heehee...

Love and huggies to anyone and everyone who reads/reviews my little fanfic!

Rachel 3~~