Please tell me what you think. I take criticism (constructive or not) very well. I am new and I wanna know what you think.

Chapter One: I am Elisabete Fortunata Uley.

I woke to an unfamiliar room. This was common these days. I had to suffer this every single time the government didn't think it was safe where we were at. If my dad hadn't done what he did (well actually, if he hadn't done a lot of things), we'd still live the normal American life. Hah. Normal. What is that these days? Who knows. My life is now full of what ifs.

The room, that was now my temporary sanctuary, welcomed me with pine wood walls, white painted cherry wood furniture (my sister had painted it before she had moved in with her best friend... what a waste of beauty, I know), and to a oddly smiling family. I took me a few minutes to realize what day it was. October 31. My fifteenth birthday. Ugh. My mother was Hispanic so she'd already have a Quinceanara planned out in her mind just waiting for my approval. She looked at me with eager eyes. I knew what she was thinking. Jeez. Would she ever give up? I guess not. I shook my head. Mothers will never give up.

I probably should tell you about me, huh? Well, my name is Elisabete Fortunata Uley. I am Spanish, Brazilian, and Quileute. My parents names are Thomas and Valencia Uley. My mom was born in Zaragoza, Spain, half Spanish and half Brazalian. My av (grandmother) was from Porto Alegre, Brazil while my abuelo was a Zarogoza native. My mom moved toReggio di Calabria, Italy so she could pursue her dream of preparing Italian dishes. There she met my dad who was a Quileute native from La Push on a vacation from college. His father was Charles Uley, another Quileute native. Anyway, my parents met while touring the Castello Aragonese. They both have an interest in old historical stuff and its history. I just like the look of old stuff, if it doesn't look rundown in trashy.

My family has a love of using phrases from their primary languages. Sometimes we even talk in them though not often because when we usually get together there are guests who wouldn't understand us. I know all the native languages. The only language I don't know is Italian, the language only my mom and dad know.

As far as nicknames go, for those who are not my family, it's Elsie for short. Except my cousin Sam who calls me Porsche because of my love for the car. My father calls me Aniella which is an Italian name meaning 'little lamb'. My mother calls me Almirah, the Spanish name for 'princess'. My av and abuelo call me Yaritza. I will not explain that name for it is embarrassing. To anyone who understood what it means.

I blew them kisses and went to take a shower. I needed the twenty minutes to think. I thought about how my dad decided to go to the old 'antique' building he called his office building that day. I mean it's pretty but come on. He could do better and we all knew it. We have lived on an estate surrounded by the Seattle area. Now we live in the most expensive house in the La Push area. Heck, we came close to buying a mini-castle.

I got dressed in my casual wear and set my mind. I went down the right twin curved mahogany staircase to the oversized room with the french doors. My dad was in his new home office filing papers. I walked in and sat on the desk in front of him. He looked up briefly and smiled. I smiled back. I knew what we were going to do today. It was my favorite thing to do since I was little. Something I hadn't done after we moved from my grandparents' house a few houses down.

Cliff diving.

I jumped off his desk and ran over to my dad to give him the biggest hug in the whole vida (world).

"Whoa-ho-ho now. What's all this for?" he asked laughing.

"What? I can't be happy to get out of the house while momma sets up my party?" I asked back, knowing she was standing in the doorway listening. She ran over to me and swept me in a big 'abrazo'. I hugged her back.

"You're really going to let me throw you this party, Almirah?"- I nodded- "Oh my Dios! You will love it. Si. I'll make sure you do." She was already setting her brain to work.

"Ho avuto il vestito e la torta gia," my dad said in Italian. Should I honestly tell you how annoying that is or would you know already? I don't know Italian here people! Or is that the idea?

"Giusto rosa?" she replied. "Tre livelli sua strada?"

"Si," my dad said with confidence.

"La porti e mi metter il 'palazzo' pronto." My dad nodded at this.

"Done yet?" I asked looking at both of them.

"Yes we are," my dad answered. "Ready to go?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"Guess not."

Today I jump off the highest cliff.

Hell to the yes.

TRANSLATIONS

Ho avuto il vestito e la torta gia: I got the dress and cake already

Giusto rosa: Pink right?

Tre livelli sua strada: Three lairs as she wanted?

La porti e mi metter il 'palazzo' pronto: I'll get the 'palace' set up while you take her.