Those days before Carlisle changed me were the hardest of them all. I was dieing from the epidemic of the Spanish influenza that my town was suffering, and I was one of many people. No one ever paid me much attention, as the doctors had to tend to the other patients. There were not enough doctors to help all the victims of the influenza, and people all around me were lingering on the last threads of their lives, as was I.

I never got enough sleep, which probably wasn't helping my physical being. But I couldn't help it! Every night, I was tortured by the screams of agony belonging to those in the beds next to me. I heard the quiet whimpering noises of mothers watching their babies die. The heaving sobs of young teenagers, who should have had their whole lives to look forward to, but instead lost to the horrible disease.

With one look at a small girl, an old woman, a young lad, or even a grown man, I could always tell. Whether they longed for death like a breath of fresh air from the emotionally and physically painful roller coaster that is life, or whether they were so scared of death that they would do almost anything to prevent their own. Whether they didn't care, whether they didn't understand the complicated emotions of dieing.

Small children were the worst. Whenever I saw a new patient that was a child, the innocence of their smiles scared me. They never knew…they put too much faith in the local clinic's amateur doctors and medicines to realize that their own possibilities of death were higher than they bargained. They didn't know that they were going to die. I could tell.

I've always been perceptive like that; although in some instances such as those of the Spanish influenza, my enhanced ability to be able to almost sense what other people were thinking was not a good one. The doctors' anxieties, worries, and knowledge that they could do nothing to help so many of the dieing patients were unbearable. I almost went mad with the depression seeping into me from all sides. I knew that I was going to die. I was one of the many few that did not care. All I cared about was if my mother lived or died.

Elizabeth Masen seemed to be doing better than me, and I always thought that if things took a turn for the worst for either of us, it would be for me. So, to my surprise and great horror, when she perished first, I had nothing and no one left to live for, and I gave up. I succumbed to the sickness, and began my long descent towards death. I began fading in and out of consciousness, and I knew that it was my weak body fading away.

The last day of my human life I remember vaguely; I had been out cold for a length of it. But I remember my doctor, Carlisle, looking at me with indecision clear in his eyes; right before he took me out of the hospital. I swore that I was delusional when I felt the air in my face, making my eyes water, as he ran with my dieing body limp in his arms.

When he got me back to his house, he started making small, careful, cuts all around my body; trying to commemorate the night he was changed, he told me later. But I forgot all of the slight pains caused by the cuts and bruises the next moment, because he bit me.

I felt his teeth sink into my neck, the venom slowly pouring into my bloodstream. It burned like fire, and I screamed in surprise and pain. Carlisle looked down at me with understanding and pity, and for some reason, I felt like reaching up to punch him in the face. The only thoughts that were going through my head were, "HE inflicted this pain on me. It's HIS FAULT ENTIRELY. How can he look at me like that when he's just set my throat on fire?!"

And then I couldn't concentrate on being mad at him anymore, because the piercing, burning, agony was worse than anything I'd ever felt before, and it was spreading. Violent convulsions shook my being, and I didn't understand why. Fiery knives were being driven into every part of my body, and my longing for death at that precise moment was more insane than any human mind can comprehend.

This grueling, sickening agony lasted for a maddening three more days, and I often begged Carlisle to just kill me, release me from the torrents of fire that constantly seemed to be circling throughout my body. Carlisle was by my side often, except when he returned to the patients at the hospital.

When he tried to tell me what I had become, I would not believe him. I thought that I had died, and landed myself in the middle of hell. I never really fell asleep, although I went through lengths of time when I was "out of it". I was faintly aware of my surroundings, and my subconscious mind kept trying to tell me that I was still in the hospital, slowly dieing.

But when I awoke from those periods of unconsciousness, everything that had happened to me came back in a wave that threatened to drown me.

My own misery was constantly making me sick, and I vomited often. I was never one to be vain, but I couldn't stop feeling sorry for myself. The single comforting thought in my head was that at least my mother didn't have to go through what I did; her death had sent her down a less painful road than my own.

I never once shed a tear; I had been raised to feel disdain towards men who cried. They were considered weak, and in my most vulnerable state, being viewed as weak was dangerous. Only once in those three days did Carlisle have to leave me to hunt – when he tried to tell me what he had to go do, I almost believed him. But then a horrifying mental image formed itself in my mind, and I was sick again.

For weeks after my transformation, Carlisle tried to get me to believe him about what I had become, and the choice I then had ahead of me to make. He told me that, if I chose to do so, I could leave him, and fulfill the expected lifestyle of most vampires.

Some things that he explained to me made sense when I stepped back from everything and looked at it in retrospect…so I sometimes stopped screaming at Carlisle to listen to him. I only believed him because I could hear and feel the evidence in my own body that proved his point. I slowly began to accept both my current physical and mental beings; my stunning, crisp beauty, and my longing for fresh, warm, human blood. I felt the bloodlust; I saw my reflection. My senses sharpened to those of a predator's, and I felt like a predator. I hated myself for feeling what I felt.

As I moved about in public, sometimes somebody would mingle too close to me. I faced the struggles of restraining myself from taking those two steps that would bring me in the paths of those people, because in such close boundaries with them I knew that I wouldn't be able to maintain control. I longed to sink my teeth into the necks of the weakest humans – the ones that wouldn't even put up a fight if I tried. They were no match for me…I was too quick, too strong. I could take down a whole group of humans in a matter of seconds, and drain their lifeless bodies of blood; finally consuming what I lusted after.

But I always shied away thoughts that related to my killing others – the simple possibilities hammered on the barrier that kept me in control. So when I felt myself slipping, I just tuned in to the thoughts of my prey.

Carlisle tried to explain, to both himself and me, how it was most probable that, when I became a vampire, all six of my senses were sharpened. My sixth sense was subtle when I was human – my uncanny ability of perception. When I was human, I always had a firm grasp on the opinions of the people I associated myself with. My perception seemed to sharpen after my transformation to allow me to read the thoughts passing through others' minds the moment they thought them. And although I could clearly hear the humans' thoughts, Carlisle's seemed to be on a separate channel.

At the time, I figured that it was because Carlisle was the vampire to change me, and therefore I had his venom inside of me. But later on in my life, when I encountered more of our kind, I realized that it was because of what we were. The vampires I mingled with's thoughts were crystal clear in my head, like tuning into a radio station while being inside of that station's tower.

And although I didn't take my talent for granted, I didn't consider it much of a gift. Because, and especially in a crowded room, there were unwanted thoughts and feelings crowding my mind. After a while, I learned how to tune out what I didn't want to hear.

I lived with Carlisle for almost a year before everything began to actually sink in, however, and I actually began to realize that I would really live forever. I contemplated, both out loud and in my mind, what I was to do for the rest of eternity. I had finally accepted that my mother was dead, and I had nobody else in my life besides Carlisle. I never once considered creating another vampire, as Carlisle did – neither a woman or man partner.

I never fell in love, and never once felt lustful or loving feelings towards a woman. Except towards her blood. But then I just took a step back, and looked at myself through another's eyes. I thought about how my natural prey had a mind, and tried not to think of the humans being warm sacs of blood that would finally satisfy my never ending thirst. When those inevitable times came that I felt my control slipping, I just went hunting.

I journeyed deep into the forest, scouring the woods for any sights or smells of fresh animal prey. Carlisle and I were 'vegetarian' vampires; we tried to never drink human blood. That didn't indicate, however, that I myself never slipped up. I couldn't resist the temptations, sometimes, and just surrendered myself over to my less noble side. I let the vampire inside of me take over, and do what it had to do. I mean, after a few centuries, I mostly mastered the careful and precise art of control, and stopped slipping up. But until then…

After a while, Carlisle apparently decided to make me a female companion. So, when he found Rosalie Hale on the streets in the area that we were currently residing, he thought it too much of a waste for her to die. She had a rare beauty that was one of a kind, and you didn't find anywhere.

He brought her back to our house, and bit her. I was terribly pained to see her go through the process that I myself had to go through, and took pity upon her. She screamed night and day, although there was no difference between night and day for us…seeing as vampires don't sleep.

We don't need to eat, either, and technically don't need to breathe. If we have to eat, we can. And we can pretend to sleep. We make 'breathing' a habit, so that we don't raise suspicion should a human ever question us. When a human seemed close to guessing what we were, or why we never seemed to age, we fled. We skipped town in the middle of the night, and were never heard from again.

But that's beside the point. Rosalie Hale was never much of a companion for me; she was vain, arrogant, conceited, and not at all my type. So I didn't object when she brought home Emmett, and begged Carlisle to change him for her. All the while, I remember her thinking thoughts of a boy, "Henry", and I wondered if he was her previous lover. But I need not worry, as it seemed that Rosalie and Emmett were perfect for each other; they completed each other. Emmett was bulky and strong, and Rosalie loved that. She was pristine and petite – perfect for Emmett. Meanwhile, our family had adopted yet another couple – Alice and Jasper. They were also a perfect couple, both with talents like mine.

Alice could see the future – once somebody made a decision to act or do something, she could see it. But if somebody acted on a whim, or made a split-second decision to do something, she wouldn't see it until it was finalized in that person's mind. We did not know if she was somehow like this in her human life, as we knew nothing about her previous life. She and Jasper came to us already as vampires, but not newborns. Newborn vampires are vampires that were recently bitten, and had absolutely no self-control. They relied on simple strength to get them blood, and were not 'vegetarians'. They were anything but.So we were glad to see that Alice and Jasper had already endured the state of being newborn vampires, already past those chapters of their lives.

Jasper had a unique talent. He could control the emotions of the people around him. In a room with the tension so tight that you could feel it, he can unwind every single person. He could make somebody unknowingly go from nervous and edgy to relaxed and calm. And there was nothing they could do about it until Jasper had left the room.

Eventually Carlisle also got his own female companion – Esme. So our adoptive family then consisted seven vampires, six of them in thriving relationships. Carlisle made sure that we at least tried to maintain his single 'no human blood' rule, and we tried. But when one has nothing but time on his hands, one does get bored.

I wish I could say that I never tasted human blood after the first few years of being a newborn, but I can't. I won't elaborate on that, but let's just say it wasn't pretty. I was in close circumstances with many humans, seeing as all of us in the Cullen family who were young enough went to school.

Since we couldn't age, we tried to stay in high school after our first few times through college.

Vampires can not go out in the sun. It's not an insane myth, but we would never 'melt' in the sun. We just…sparkle. I can't accurately describe it to somebody who has never seen it, but it's pretty amazing – the whole concept. If vampires were diamonds, and we're pretty darn close, they would catch the sunlight. And that's what we do – catch the sun. Like a diamond with a million facets, our pale white skin glitters. Of course, if a human should see us in the sun like that, some pretty insane theories would evolve.

So we keep out of the sun, and especially sunny cities. We move around a lot, usually to rainy places. We bought a house in the small town of Forks, Washington, and my life changed forever.

When Bella and I fell in love, I never completely intended to change her. Somehow, it got the the point where neither she nor I could live without each other, and the only practical way for our relationship to exist was for both of us to be immortal. After we got married, I bit her – reluctantly. I helped her through her first years of being a newborn vampire, and when her control was mostly mastered, we began to concentrate a little less on keeping her from drinking human blood and a little more on being together.

We're currently residing in Alaska, but we do not intend to spend the rest of eternity here. Bella's family is fading into oblivion, and her oldest friends are around the age of fifty.Bella and I know that she must see her parents before they die, but we can't risk them seeing us. We've gotten along about thirty years without having to actually visit her parents, and I know that Renée and Charlie are suspicious. They're both dieing, and Bella wants a last goodbye.

We're running now, crossing the United States so that, somehow, we can let Bella kiss Charlie goodbye. Renée is doing alright for now, but Charlie is past his expiration date. We cut off contact with him, for his own good – but if I were him, I would want to see my daughter before I died. Even with her as a vampire, I can't read Bella's mind, but I'm pretty sure that her current plan is to simply go into Charlie's hospital room and say goodbye. I'm not sure what Charlie will think, seeing his daughter as chalky white as she is and as young as she is.

And, even after about 30 years, I'm not too sure how Bella will react in a hospital. Surrounded by feeble, weak humans, with cuts and injuries. Blood transfusions take place in hospitals, and surgeries sure aren't clean. I just hope I won't have to physically restrain her from her intense, burning thirst in the one place where we must remain as low-key as possible - with Charlie there.