Chapter 2 - Meadows and Motorcycles

Finally, I opened the box to find several leather journals. I picked up the first one and slowly opened and began reading.

"Oh. My. God."

Saturday morning found me still sitting on the floor in my spare bedroom. My hair had been thrown up haphazardly during one of my coffee and pee breaks. The floor around me was littered with journals, my notes, coffee cups, and granola bar wrappers.

I decided my eyes could use a break, and while I really needed to sleep, I knew there was no way that was going to happen anytime soon. I settled on taking a shower and eating some breakfast that didn't come wrapped in foil.

Forcing my brain into silence, I went into my bathroom and turned on the water to heat up while I undressed. As I pulled off my tank top, I caught the reflection of my tattoo in the mirror. The ancient Greek writing spread between my shoulder blades. I laughed at the irony of what it said in conjunction with the odd events of yesterday.

'There is no fate but that in which we make for ourselves'

Hell, I thought it had been prolific when I got it. Look at me now!

Shaking my head, I got into the shower and let the hot water soothe the sore muscles in my neck and shoulders that had been caused from looking down at books all night. I wet my hair and washed it with my favorite jasmine scented shampoo and followed it with the matching conditioner. I followed that with gardenia body wash. I finished by washing my face and brushing my teeth (doing that in the shower just saved me a step). I turned off the water and stepped out.

I started to dry off and my stomach started to rumble. Now that I was clean and slightly more composed, I was famished. The granola bars just weren't cutting it. I finishing drying off and left my dirty clothes and towel on the bathroom floor, I could pick them up later.

I went into my bedroom and threw on a pair of track pants and a sports bra. I had no intentions of going anywhere, so it really didn't matter what the hell I wore right now. I grabbed my notes out of the spare room as I passed and went downstairs.

Tossing the notes on to the table, I went to the cupboard for a bowl and a packet of instant oatmeal. While watching it revolve in the microwave, I tapped my bare foot impatiently on the ground. When it was done, I scarfed it down while still standing in front of the microwave. I was faintly surprised I even took the time to fill the bowl with water when I was done. Then again, oatmeal turns into cement if you let it sit in the bowl.

I grabbed my notes off the table and my hoodie off the back of the chair where I had left it last night and headed out the front door onto the porch.

As I put the hoodie on, I took in the day around me. It was a rare sunny and warm day. The mid-morning sun streamed to the trees, casting a greenish light on the grounds surrounding the house. A very light breeze blew in off the water, scenting the air with a bit of salt. All in all, it was a beautiful day, and as much as I would like to enjoy it, I had things I needed to process. Plus, I was only about halfway through those journals.

Speaking of journals, I sat down on my porch swing and started to flip through the notes I had jotted down the night before. It was hard to believe that the very beings that I had been researching for my thesis were very much real. Of course, none of the legends that I had looked at had it right.

Real vampires didn't have fangs. They sparkled in the sunlight. The were as hard as marble and had eyes that were as red as the blood that they drank.

The author of the journals was indeed a man named Marcus. He was one of three ancient vampires that made up the Volturi. They were the royalty of the vampire world and they ruled with an iron fist.

As I had read, I had learned about the history of their race. From battles against werewolves, to the plague of immortal children, and wars against armies of vicious newborn vamps. All of it had my poor little head spinning. How was it that all of this could happen right under the noses of all humanity? Were we really that blind? Apparently so.

On another level, the fact that they actually existed made perfect sense. No other 'mythological' being was present in so many cultures. The ones that didn't were few and far between. I always felt that there had to be something behind all the stories, I just never thought it could be this. And I definitely never dreamed that I would be the one to find the truth of it all.

I laid across the porch swing and closed my eyes, processing all of the information that was now bouncing around my brain. The light breeze sent strands of my hair floating in the air around my face and one foot stayed on the ground in order to push the swing gently. Before I even realized that my sleepless night had caught up to me, I was dreaming again.

This time I was standing in the middle of the woods at the edge of a clearing and Destiny was beside me. The meadow before me was perfectly round and the sun shone down upon it. Hundreds of beautifully colored wildflowers decorated the grass and I heard the bubbling sound of water nearby.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

Destiny didn't look at me, but she answered. "What you are about to see is fate's way of crying out, of begging to be fixed. Just watch."

I looked back towards the meadow and at the edge I saw the bronzed-haired young man from before. This time I could actually see him though. He was tall, about 6'1" if I had to guess, and a bit on the thin side, but not scrawny. He had a beautiful face and piercing green eyes. He was looking across the meadow and suddenly smiled.

I looked in the direction that he was looking and saw a very pretty girl about the same age as him. She had long wavy brown hair and large brown eyes that looked out from her fair face. She saw the young man and smiled as well.

Simultaneously, the two began to walk towards each other. While I didn't know who they were, I could feel the love flowing off of them from where I stood. When they were about 15ft away from each other, something happened.

Dark, ominous clouds rolled in and the pair looked up. With the loss of sunlight both suddenly went from just being pale skinned to looking a sickly gray color. The love that I had felt so strongly before was now total fear. A loud cracking sound broke through the silence and a huge fissure cut through the middle of the meadow, dividing the lovers.

Next thing I knew, the man was gone. Just disappeared into thin air and the girl dropped to the ground. Bright red blood began to soak through the white dress that she wore before she too just vanished.

The meadow was suddenly whole again and the clouds parted letting the sun back in. It now looked as if nothing at all had happened, except that I was sure that my face betrayed my shock.

"What was that?" I finally managed to squeak out.

Destiny turned to face me. "Do you know that expression, 'love will find a way'?"

"Yes."

"Well, that was love trying to find a way, but death got in the way. Now their souls are screaming out for help."

"Why me though."

"Three reasons; one, you are one of few humans who can handle the truth without going insane. Two, you're fate is about to be altered due to past events. If things are not set right, you're life will go wrong as well. Last but not least, you will soon be in the position to leap frog through time. I can't do that, but you will."

"Like time travel? How?"

"I don't know exactly how, I just know you will be able to."

For a few minutes we just stood in silence as I tried to figure out how this time thing was possible. I came up with nothing.

Destiny watched me think and then spoke up. "When you get back look on your kitchen table. I left you a list of names. I need you to look up their histories. These are the people you'll need to know for this. The first three you will find in the trunk, the rest you'll need to use other sources. The last two names are the ones that you saw here today. Now wake up."

I shot upright on the swing, sending it rocking and me on to the floor. "Shit!"

I grabbed the swing with my hand to keep it from hitting me on its way back. I pulled myself up and dashed into the house and straight to the kitchen. I quick glance at the clock on the stove told me it was already five o'clock.

As expected, I leaf of paper was waiting for me on the table. I flipped on the light and picked up to look over the names on the list.

Carlisle Cullen

Mary Alice Brandon

Jasper Whitlock

Rosalie Hale

Emmett McCarty

Esme Platt-Evenson

Edward Masen

Isabella Swan

As impatient as I was to begin my research, I knew I need to eat something. I called in an order to the Chinese place and got myself some veggie chow mein and egg rolls. While I waited for the food to arrive, I grabbed my laptop and some pillows and took them up to the spare room. By the time I came back down, my doorbell rang. That was what I loved about Chinese food, it was always fast.

I paid the man and sat down at the table to eat. I didn't want to get food on the journals. I finished quickly and tossed out the empty container, before I grabbed a bottle of water and my list. I took the stairs two at a time and promptly sat down before the trunk.

I decided to tackle the list in order. I dug through the truck until I found a book that contained the records of all known vampires. First on my list was Carlisle Cullen.

Carlisle had been born the son of a pastor sometime in the mid-1600's. His father claimed to hunt vampires, but ended up just killing a lot of people. Carlisle followed his father's trade, but was more careful about who he condemned to death. At 23 years old he discovered a coven of true vampires living in the London sewers. He was bitten during the attack and became a vampire. Carlisle discovered a way of life by sustaining himself on the blood of animals. He was seen as a freak of the vampire world, but stood by his ways. He searched for more of his kind but never found any. Eventually, his loneliness got to him and he requested death from the Volturi in 1924. His request was granted.

I instantly found myself admiring the man. He fought so hard against his own nature, but loneliness got to him. I had to give him credit for holding on for near 300 years.

Moving on to the next one, Mary Alice Brandon. Born in 1901, she claimed to have visions of the future. At some point she was put into an insane asylum by her parents. In approximately 1920, she was turned into a vampire. Mary's sire is unknown as she has no memory of her human life. In 1925, she was discovered by the Volturi and asked to join the guard. She was coveted for her ability to see the future and now sits as Aro's right hand.

Jasper Whitlock was a Civil War soldier. He joined the Confederate Army in 1861. He was turned in 1863 and turned his attention to the newborn wars of the south. Eventually he left and took up a nomadic existence. His ability to sense others emotions drove him insane and he went on a killing rampage, drawing attention. Jasper was executed by the Volturi guard in 1974 in New York City.

I set the book down and leaned back on the pillows. Two of these people had their lives end in tragic and sad ways. I hoped that whatever was in Destiny's card led these people to better lives. I had to believe that.

I then booted up my laptop, knowing that somehow I would have no trouble finding the information that I needed. I had Destiny herself on my side. I typed the first name into the search bar…and bingo! Rosalie Hale.

Rosalie Hale was born in 1915 and was the quintessential socialite in Rochester, NY. She was engaged to be married to the very wealthy Royce King when she was found beaten and raped in an alleyway in 1933. She was already dead when she was found. No one was ever arrested.

Emmett McCarty, born 1915. His remains were found in the wilderness in 1935. A bear attack was suspected but couldn't be confirmed due to the level of decomposition.

Esme Platt-Evenson, born 1985. Committed suicide by jumping off of a cliff after her newborn son died in 1921.

I braced myself to read about the early deaths of the young lovers.

Edward Masen, born 1901. Died 1918 of Spanish Influenza. He was 17.

Isabella Swan, born 1987. Died in a car crash in her school parking lot at age 17.

I wiped away the tears that I hadn't even realized had fallen. So many people dead before they even had a chance at life. I knew that I would do whatever I had to in order to help these people. First, I needed to clear my head a bit.

Changing into jeans, a tee shirt, boots, and a leather jacket; I headed out to my garage. I pushed my sleek black Kawasaki Ninja out to the drive way and strapped on my helmet.

I took to the road at a leisurely 35mph. Riding always helped me relax, but I was no daredevil. I kept my face shield cracked to take in the slightly salty air as the road passed by under my tires.

The last thing I saw before the total darkness was the headlights of a black car hitting me before I could even swerve.

And you know the drill. Click that little button and make my day. Please?