Disclaimer: I know that this will come as a shock to you all, but I am not Stephanie Meyer.
Jasper POV:
I snarled quietly, my sole focus on the hunt. The ache in the back of my throat had been intensified and expanded into a dull roar. I let all six of my senses take in as much information about my surroundings as possible.
I saw a relatively secluded house. Perfect. Maria's been looking for a new place to live anyway.
I heard the voice of a woman coming from the kitchen, her children either with her or in the backyard. No one to call for help, no one to hear them even if they could.
I felt no hostility in their emotional environments. They'll never suspect I'm coming.
I touched the ground beneath my feet in the field. Hasn't been plowed recently; no one's taking care of her. She won't be missed much.
I tasted the blood residue left in my mouth from the farm hand I'd just consumed. My thirst suddenly became all I could think about. She's full of blood. I want it.
I sniffed for the best smelling blood. The most mouthwatering aroma I'd ever smelled floated with the breeze from the backyard.
I must have it.
I ghosted around the side of the house, my footsteps silent; they would not know of my presence until it was too late.
Maria, I knew, thought it was ridiculous to be so cautious. They were, after all, only humans. It's not like they would be able to do anything about it anyway, and it's not like it mattered what they thought. They were inconsequential; only the fear of the Volturi spurred most of us to be careful feeding. We were, after all, practically gods. With our enhanced senses, gifts, strength, and speed, we were unbeatable by anyone but our own kind.
We were strong; they were weak.
We were the predators; they were the prey.
It was just survival of the fittest.
That's what Maria had said and I had listened. I had listened and believed. She had shown me so much about this new life that I didn't even know how to begin to thank her. I looked up to her with the reverence of a child looking at his teacher, the awe of a man looking at a beautiful woman. I believed that I loved her.
Imagine my surprise when she had, publicly, in front of all the newborns in the dining room, kissed me and told me that she loved me back. I was thrilled. I mean, I knew that she liked me, of course. I was useful. I'd managed to stick around for five years already; a feat that was nearly impossible in the violent Southern Wars.
But love?
I hadn't had a clue.
My pride had grown exponentially as she had pulled me back around to kiss me again, this time more passionately, before dragging me upstairs where we had gone farther than kissing until the sun rose and I had needed to go back to tending the newborns.
She had claimed me as her own, I would try to live up to her standards.
As I silently slipped around to the back gate, I caught a glimpse of my prey for the first time. The sight made me stop short.
To little girls were sitting on a blanket under the tree, their blonde hair pulled into elegant updos, dressed in fancy dresses that spread around them where they were seated with shoes that were clearly too big for them - possibly their mother's. A tea set lay spread before them, various stuffed toys and dolls set up at each carefully laid little place setting. The elder sister was pretentiously showing her younger sister how one holds a cup of tea with the absolute confidence that only comes from a headstrong child.
This girl was the one who's scent was so appealing to me. I hesitated for a long moment. I had never taken the life of a child before, and something inside me was screaming at me not to start now. For the first time since I became a vampire, I felt a stirring of...remorse? Guilt? I wasn't sure, but their carefree emotions made me loathe to end their fun.
"Jasper?"
The shocked gasp made me whirl towards the door, where a twenty-something year old woman stood, mouth agape, with a toddler on her hip.
My mind whirled. How did she know my name? Why did her face look so familiar? I hunted my memory for a name to match the shocked face in front of me, still waiting for an answer to her question.
Slowly, I nodded. What could it hurt? She was only human; I could kill her later. I wanted to see where this conversation led.
"I knew it!" she squealed, startling me. Her emotions changed to those of intense joy, relief, and a tad bit of smugness. "I knew you didn't go off and die on us in that war! Everyone said you did, that you abandoned your troop in a time of need and got killed for it, but I knew better!"
Sarah.
That was her name.
I knew her from...my past? No...my human past. That sounded right. She had been...close to me.
"Everyone said you were a no good, rotten traitor not fit to wipe the scum off of Yankee boots, but I knew that you weren't!"
It suddenly dawned on me.
She was my sister.
I glanced with wide eyes at the scene before me, now filled with so much more meaning. The little girls had come over to stand by their mother, staring at me unashamedly. The toddler sucked his thumb, content to play with his mother's curls.
She looked at me expectantly, like she wanted me to say something.
"You...you did?"
She nodded proudly. "Yes, yes I did. I knew you were a good man. Even though I was only thirteen when you left, I could tell. Look, I kept your carving you gave me. I made it into a necklace." She tugged at the string around her neck, revealing a little wooden cross dangling from the end.
My throat felt odly tight. If I were human, I thought I might have been crying.
She'd believed that I was good. I didn't even remeber that she had existed, and she thought I was good. She had fought for my reputation from the sounds of it.
But...I'd been about to kill my neices for sustenance... the oldest looked only to be about six years old...
Good people didn't do that did they?
But what made them special from the other humans? If it was okay to kill the others, why did it suddenly feel wrong to kill them?
"How did you know?" I wondered desperately. "How did you know that I was good? That I am good?"
"I can just tell," she winked at me conspiritarolly. "I missed you, you know."
I came to a decision. I would find my meal elsewhere.
"I have to go," I told her.
She nodded sadly. "Yes, I suppose so. I am glad I got to see you again, though. If you ever pass through again, you stay here, ya hear?"
I nodded. With one long, last look at the children, then at her, I turned and started making my way away at a human pace. As I reached the side of the house, I heard her call out:
"Love you, Jazz!"
I looked back to see her blow a kiss at me.
I half smiled and waved back before continuing on my way.
That night, my thoughts seemed to go in circles. Why was it okay to feed off of other humans, but not those four? Why did that feel wrong? It was okay to feed off of humans, right? I was still a good person, wasn't I? Maria had said that it was alright.
I looked at my maker across the room.
Was it possible that she was wrong?
A/N: Hi! So, I got so excited from the response to the last chapter that I posted on The Value of Cliches (It's my longer story, if you haven't read it yet, you should. I think it's good, but I may be a bit biased.) that I just had to write something. I'm still not sure how the next chapter for that is going to go, so I wrote this because it's been bouncing around in my head for a while.
I thought to myself that there must have been a point that made Jasper start to see that what he was doing was wrong. Something must have made him start to value human life. So, then I was like, what if he had a sister? Hence, The Consequences of Conversing with your Dinner.
Please review, reviews make my day :)
Also, go check out my other stories! (Pretty please? *bats eyelashes innocently*)
