Hey guys! Know I haven't written in a while, but I have been so busy with school it's not even funny. And then I sprained my wrist, which made typing near impossible.

Don't expect much more on this story until mid-December. But I wanted to get this out here now.

Twilight is not mine...it is the immortal Stephenie Meyer's.


Blackness. Such blackness. I didn't think such darkness was fathomable. I didn't think it actually existed. If I didn't know my eyes were open, I would swear they were closed. My trembling hands reach to stroke my long brunette locks.

But they find nothing.

My hair is gone. I feel only the skin of my head.

I curl my knees up to my chest and hug them with both my arms, beginning to rock back and forth.

As I do this, I see a flash of something that stills my nervous movements. A man whispering my name in the darkness. Then a pale, blond man…just a flash of a face and I am back in the darkness, surrounded by nothing but the sound of my own haggard breathing.

I am alone. So utterly alone.

It is so unfair to be locked away.

I am not crazy. Sometimes I just…see things before they happen. Not all the time, and sometimes I am not right.

But my parents couldn't be seen to have a mentally unstable daughter. They had no choice but to lock me away.

So here I am, alone in the blackness with nothing but the rats and my visions to keep me company.

My name is Mary Alice Brandon…and according to the people of Biloxi, Mississippi…

I am dead.


Hopefully you all enjoyed that. I hope to write more as soon as I can manage. In the meantime, check out my other stories. I haven't abandoned the ones still in progress…just have taken a prolonged (and quite forced) vacation from them.

REVIEW THIS ONE!!! LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD CONTINUE!