AN: I dont know what this is, or where it is going. It might be drabble it might be an 100k word fic. Either way maybe you'll come along for the ride. Feel free to offer feedback, thanks .
"I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things I'm afraid of. "
Joss Whedon
She was quiet.
She always had been from the moment she was born, all pink with tufts of brown all over her head and her doe-like eyes open and watching, but quiet.
She was quiet when all the rest of the kindergarten children laughed and ran around the playground.
She was quiet when her mother announced that they were leaving Forks, Washington.
She was quiet when she found out that her father had cancer.
It wasn't that she didn't speak, but she thought that every word should mean something, all things voiced must have a purpose or else each word is given one by others.
She was nothing at all like he expected. She wasn't joyous or talkative like Alice or commanding like Rose, nor was she motherly like Esme and those are the only females he had to compare. So, when on the first day of class she looked in his rapidly darkening eyes and she told him to go home, as if her words had power, he was incredibly surprised and that was so unlike him.
She was an anamoly.