The smell of rain and wet grass filled the heavy darkness of night in Forks, Washington. The breeze smacked up against me, running goosebumps long my arms and up my neck. I backed myself up against the tallest tree outside of the clearing and took six paces forward. "Alright," I breathed. I cracked my neck, as if getting ready for some big challenge and took two baby steps. "Good, Nessie." I pushed myself. But the willingness inside of me was gaining more common sense, and my feet were locking beneath me. This was a stupid idea. And I knew that. Somewhere under my feet was a box. A thirteen year old box that was filled with memories that I shouldn't dare bring to life. Memories of a lifetime I had sworn to forget. And I was doing so well. I had finally moved on from the hurt of losing him. But the day was still fresh in my mind. I remember waving bye to him in the back seat. I remember my dad yelling at him, threatening to kill him. I remember crying every night. I remember feeling the pull and trying to sneak out my house in the middle of the night. I remember everything. I remember him. And digging up this box was stupid. Because inside of it was everything but Jacob himself. But before I could make sense of the decision to come back here, my fingers were plunging into the dirt, and scratching away the rocks and grass. My finger scraped the top of the damp and cold shoe box. I knew this was a mistake. But it was a mistake worth making. I threw the lid off of the box and emptied the contents out in front of me. My heart skipped a beat. Letters. Jewelry. Pictures. Broken Promises. I shuffled through the papers, determined to find one thing, and ignore all the rest. Finally my fingers landed on an old, damp, torn up piece of paper ripped out of my old diary. I quickly unfolded it and read it aloud. "Thirty Things to do Before I'm sixteen." I took a deep breath and let it out with a smile. I skimmed over the list, determined to do every single thing on there, knowing I really didn't have the choice. I had to. But my eyes stopped on number thirty. "Marry Jacob."
I do not own Twilight.
