I always knew I was different. From the day I was born and my mother died from giving birth to me. That was 1850. Rumor had it that I was a witch. Or that I was cursed. But no one did something because they wanted to give me a second chance. I grew up with my father, Charlie, who did not love me.

He could not stand to look at me because I looked so much like my mother. I had to do everything alone because of this.

It was hard for me.

I could not walk through the town without people whispering about me. Whispering about how I killed my mother. And how I had to die.

It really hurt me to hear all those whispers about me. But after some years I simply ignored it.

I ignored the fact that I looked to beautiful, that my skin was too pale, that I did not have to sleep, that I did not have to eat, that I was stronger than other girls my age and that I could run faster than everyone I knew. And the hardest, I ignored the fact that no one wanted to play with me, and that everyone avoided me because they were scared of me.

They were scared that they would die too if they would play with me.

I never had a real friend and school was a nightmare for me.

But everything changed when I turned sixteen.

Rumors were spreading that I would be burned on my sixteenth birthday because I was a witch.

Of course it did not help that someone saw me running faster than you could possible run.

I heard the rumors but I did not believe it. They could not just burn me, could they?

My father did not say anything about it, but then, he never says anything to me or anything. He locked himself in his room and only opens the door when I cooked something and he wants to eat.

I was scared out of my mind the night before I turned sixteen. I got anonymous post from people. The letter said that I had to burn in hell and that I should never have been born. I cried the whole day. Thinking about what I had to do now.

After several hours just thinking and deciding if I wanted to die or if I wanted to live.

I decided to live.

I packed some of my dresses and food to take with me on my journey.

I left a letter to my father. Telling him my story and exactly how different I am and that I have to leave because I can't live like this. I told him that I loved him and that he shouldn't search for me.

Not that he would even think of it. But still. I wanted him to know.

I left in that night by foot. Because no one would notice me like that and because I was must faster by foot anyway. ( I didn't get exhausted very fast.)

I traveled for years, sleeping in the woods, drinking from lakes and eating berries.

I learned that I could move things without touching them and I noticed that I did not age anymore and I became scared of myself.

But everything changed when I came across a group of beautiful people. They asked me who I was and what I was doing there. They introduced themselves as the Volturi. And I as Isabella Marie Swan. I did not bother to change my name. I would always be Isabella. Or Bella as I preferred.

The Volturi told me that they were vampires and they wanted me to be their food.

I was so unbelievable scared that I reacted on instinct. I used my telekinesis powers to throw them backwards. And I ran. I don't know how long I ran. It could be hours, it could be days, it could be months, it could even be years. I only stopped when I came to an ocean.

I knew from a map that hung in my old classroom that this was the Atlantic ocean and if I would swim across I would reach America.

I saw that the ocean was huge but I decided to swim. Because I had no other chance.

So I swam. I swam for months without eating drinking or sleeping. I knew that no human would ever be able to do this. But I tried not to worry.

When I finally reached land, I was exhausted.

I saw in a distance a board written on it: America year 1950.

And then I fell into blackness.