Hey everyone. Angel Of Dark Intuition here! I've started a new story, based on Jacob and Renesmee from Twilight. PLEASE NOTE that it's correctly categorized this time, and even belongs on THIS website! ^.^ I'm really excited about this story, so please R&R!

As soon as Renesmee's eyes opened, they clouded over in anxiety. Please, not again. This was the sixth time in the last week she had had this strange, confusing dream. The dream of Aunt Rose, of herself. And of Jake. It didn't make any sense at all; so why did she keep having it? She had been so confused back then. She sighed with frustration, a musical sound, and rolled up into a ball, pressing her small, teenage fists against her temples in frustration. She couldn't tell Edward about this, or her mom, Bella. They wouldn't understand. Maybe Edward would even think that something was going wrong with her gifts. He had been tense and worried enough the day that the Cullen family had discovered that Renesmee Cullen could read minds. To make matters uglier, on that day three years ago,they had discovered an odd limitation to her newest power. She could only read the minds of other Mind Readers. Which, so far, limited her to her father, Edward, and Aro of the Volturi. They were still testing the theory, and Carlisle wasn't too happy at all about the lack of guinea pigs.

She didn't want her father finding out about the dream, and as a result, she had to be very, very careful of what she thought about around him. So far she had been lucky. But she was always afraid she would slip...

She let out a longer, more defeated sigh, and uncurled from her petite little ball, dropping her fists to her sides and uncurling her slender fingers. Still laying on her bed, she took a moment to listen to her family downstairs, in an effort to clear her worries away. With her keen ears, she listened to Emmett; her favorite uncle. He was watching the Florida Gators, and was whooping it up; the score was 4-2, and it was the final quarter. Shifting her attention, she focused on her aunt Alice and uncle Jasper. They were quietly whispering to eachother. She assumed the matter was private, and moved her attention to her aunt Rosalie. She had always felt somehow competitive of this particular member of her family, and her aunt's suggestions always brought out her rebellion. She didn't know why, and something about it heavily bugged her. With an uneasy feeling in her stomach, she moved on to Carlisle and Esme. She had never called them Grandma and Grandpa; the idea seemed too absurd. That was only for Charlie, she mused. He was beggining to look the part. Her grandparents were openly discussing a renovation they wanted to do on their room. The entire family was currently living in the Main House, as the Cottage was under repairs from a blunder involving uncle Emmett and aunt Rose. Her parents hadn't been at all happy about their house getting broken...

Finally, she shifted her attention to her Mom and Dad. Her parents were sitting very close together, from the sounds of it. Bella was whispering something into her Dad Edward's ear. She listened a bit harder....and was shocked to find them talking about her. She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink as she realized they had been openly discussing her while she was asleep. She hated it when her family did that; they must not know she was awake yet. She continued to listen, feeling just a bit angry that they would do that. She was the only member in the Cullen family who slept; so it was just exactly like taking an unfair advantage of her. Grrr... She gave one more small sigh, and continued to listen.

"...Growing so fast...." '....Going to be 17 soon...." This was her dad. She listened for her Mom's reply. ".....we're going to have to get her a car, you know," she pointed out in her bell chime voice. 'She doesn't very much like the Ferrari, OR the Mercedes Guardian." She could practically hear her mother's smile. "However, Emmett told me that he did catch her eyeing up his camouflaged Jeep." It was Edward's turn to speak. 'I don't trust that she could even get into that Jeep without assistance," he chuckled. "She's going to be 6 soon, 17, in appearance. How did she end up so small?" Renesmee cringed. Great. Not only are they talking about me, they're making fun of my height. How is this fair? 'Edward," her mother's soft voice chided. "How can you say that? She's a couple inches taller than Alice, and Alice can get into the Jeep just fine. Stop being so pessimistic." There was a soft growl from her father, and then his low, musical voice as he said "I know, I know. She's just growing up so fast, Bella. Pretty soon, it will be time for..." His voice darkened and caught; he couldn't seem to continue. Her mother saved him. 'I know, Edward. Pretty soon, Jake-"

As soon as she heard her best friend's name, she tuned out. They were talking about Jacob again. And she just didn't want to know. She had never understood her parent's reactions to Jacob Black. Especially her father's. Whenever Jake was over, Edward watched them the entire time they were in the house, and his golden eyes held the intensity of a hawk's. Since she could read her father's mind, Renesmee knew that not a moment passed in that house where her father stopped heavily scrutinizing Jake's every thought. It bugged Renesmee; she didn't want to invade Jacob's privacy like that, didn't want to have to analyse his thoughts through her father's. So she blocked her dad out as best she could when Jake was over. Which was practically every day. She felt her almond-shaped eyes narrow in a slight glare. Time to wake up.

She gracefully slid out of her large white bed, leaving the white feather duvets and lacy draw~around curtains unrumpled in her descent. The moment her small feet touched her dark, hardwood floor, the quiet murmer of her parent's voices stopped. Everyone in the house now knew she was awake. But she wanted it that way. She walked with silent, lilting grace across the room to her dresser. It was darkwood, like her floor, and had small red roses with thorny vines hand-painted on the front, and on the top. Jacob had informed her of the roses on the top; her head didn't clear the reached up, and opened the second highest drawer. She felt around, using her nose to scent out what she wanted, until she pulled out a slinky black shoulder top. It covered one shoulder, but the other had only a thick strap. Her aunt Alice had gotten it for her last year, for her birthday. She slung it onto the bed across the room with evident ease, and then crouched down to the bottom-most drawer. From there, she retrieved a pair of well worn, acid wash cut-off shorts. She flung those across the room as well, then closed both drawers discreetly and tripped lightly back across the room to where she had just been sleeping.

With a quick movement, she pulled off her red tank-top, and then her maroon plaid pajama pants. She heard her aunt Alice tsk her annoyance below, and she smiled; she had refused to let Alice fill her closet and dress her like a doll every day of the week, like her mother had. She picked her own clothes, to suit her own style. And most of the time, her favorite aunt didn't very much approve. Letting the smile slide off of her face, she slipped first into the shorts, and then the top, adjusting the shoulder over one shoulder and the strap over the other, pulling the shirt down and placing it with easy consideration over her hips. She flitted bare-foot to her desk, which held a Trig assignment for Professor Ateara she had just finished last night, a pile of books that Carlisle suggested she read, and a bunch of other random crap. She reached into the mess in front of the large mirror and triumphantly brought her hand back up, securely holding a large green hairbrush. She ran it through her hair, taking out all the knots and twists until it behaved, waving and softly curling down to her waist. Her bangs, down to her shoulders, hung down on either side of her face, just the way she liked them. She took a moment to examine this hair. It was a soft, lustrous mahogany, with an autumn colored tint when the sun hit it. With a soft, gentle ringlet curl, it fell down her back, and swayed around her hips. Despite the training she put herself through, she usually left her hair down, and she had flatly refused when her aunt Rosalie offered to cut it into a chin bob a year back. And she hadn't regretted the decision. She straightened up, and gazed warily at herself in the full length mirror. Renesmee had always been modest like her father, but she had to admit, if only to herself, that she looked sort of pretty.

Small and slender, she stood only two inches taller than Alice. Her hair was beautiful, to rival Rosalie's, even though she openly thought her aunt Rose's was prettier. Her eyes had turned a bit different from her mothers; they were a bit darker, so when the light glanced off of them, they were a deep, striking brown, with just the slightest hint of red in them. The exact color of a fox, or sorrel, and against her darker hair, they were striking. Her lips were soft and peachy colored; her skin was perfect, unblemished carmellia petals. And she had issues with self-esteem at school.

Stop staring at yourself. You have things to do. She promptly looked away from the mirror; she was never one to stare at herself in the first place. The slightest remains of the blush in her cheeks flared up again as she realized how superficial she was being. Qiuck like a cat and lithe like a dancer, Renesmee walked to the darkwood door, opened it, and slipped out, shutting it noiselessly behind herself.

She walked more normally, more humanly out to the landing. Her door was two doors down from the staircaes, but she was the only living thing still up on the third floor. She briefly studied her surroundings. Same old, Same old. I'm so bored. She peered over the smooth, oak banister. Far below, there was a small square of the main room's honey-oak floor visible. Shrugging her shoulders, she hoisted herself over the banister, and released herself to the long fall of rushing air as she headed directly for the bottom floor. Whenever she was the last one up, she always did it this way; not bothering to use the stairs, she would just jump over the railing and land at the base of the stairs, in front of her family, frowning at her in heavy, concerned dissapproval.

She felt herself get a little moody as she fell, her bottom lip pushing out a bit from the top as she thought about how over protective her family was. They treat me like such a baby, she thought as the floor rushed up to meet her. No one approved when she did anything reckless. Not even Jake, unless he was with her through every second of it. She was thinking of her best friend as the balls of her feet met the floor with a low thump, and she absorbed the shock impact up through her knees. She only half saw her family staring at her with chasting golden eyes, and Emmett's big, careless grin. She didn't at all hear her father reprimanding her for trying to give her dead family heart attacks. Why do I keep having that stupid... She saw her father's eyes boring into hers at the last moment and remembered to change her thoughts. Eh. It's nothing. She focused her attention entirely on her family now. She felt like she was under a spot light. The pressure to speak conveyed through her family's eyes was almost overwhealming. Finally, making her voice light and happy, she chirped "Good morning, everyone. What are we doing today?"

Her mother got up off the couch she had been perched on, and came forward with her arms open for a hug. "Well, Nessie," she said warmly, "we don't really have anything planned for today, so anything is fine, I guess." "Come on, let's sit down," she continued. Everything was already returned completely to normal; the various members of her family were back to doing they're own thing. She was just settling down next to her mom, when she heard "Nessie, catch!" With lightning quick reflexes, with the grace of an uncoiling snake, Renesmee caught the hardball that had been hurled at her an inch from her face. She smiled with excitement. Good old Emmett. He must have known I was bored. 'Nice try, Uncle Emmett," she chirped in her harmonius voice. A wicked glint came into her eyes. 'But now it's my turn." She flung the ball back at him, faster than he had thrown it at her, and she heard the loud smack it made against his granite skin as he caught it to stop it smashing the glass wall of the house behind him. Emmett looked taken aback, and she felt the smug smile streych across her face. "You've done some more practicing, Nessie, " he commented, and his voice was heavy with praise. 'That had to be just as hard as anything your Mom can pitch."

Renesmee's smile widened as her mother looked at her with affection in her eyes, but also curiousity. They needn't look so shocked; she had already told them. This was part of the training. Her eyes clouded over again as she slipped into another flashback, this one three years ago, when she was just 12.

Everyone was looking at her. And they all looked horribly frightened. They're faces were drawn out with exhaustion, there eyes were empty and burning, save for the fierce stress and anxiety in them. She looked all around her, at the faces she loved. Mom. Dad. Alice. Rose. Emmett. Jasper. Esme. Carlisle. And Jake. She was the reason they looked this way, and she wasn't going to stand for it anymore. They were afraid-afraid for her. They were afraid that something would hurt her, that something would go wrong. They were trying their best to protect her, and it was hurting them as a result.

This is my fault.

Well then, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

And it was in that instant that she made up her mind. She wasn't going to be weak and defenseless any more. She wasn't going to be confused. She wasn't going to rely on them entirely. She was going to become strong, and smart. Someone who deserved them, who belonged with them, to them. She was going to undertand. She was going to see. And it wasn't going to be all up to her family anymore to keep her safe.

She knew it wouldn't be easy. She knew she was half-human, and that the things after her would be much harder and stronger than her. Much more experienced. But she did her best anyway. She enrolled in martial arts, Judo, and Par Quor. Her sensei was a vampire named Elezear, one of the many vampires who had helped her family fight the Volturi when she was young; she had needed a sensei that would understand her super-human advantages over they're other students. And Elezear had been perfect for the job. He had taught her everything he knew, as well as put her under extensive training, mental and physical. Under his tutelage, over the last 3 years Renesmee had become nearly as smart, as fast, and as strong as any normal, true vampire. Her balance was perfect, and to human and even more sensitive ears, her footfall was all but soundless. Although they were useless against some of her scarier opponents, she carried two wicked sharp hunting knives the length of her forearm, concealed in the knee high boots she usually wore out of the house. And she knew how to use them, too. With her determination to stop her family's worry as her driving force, Renesmee had become the Iron Lotus of Forks. A warrior of beautiful, deadly grace and steely finesse that all her loved ones could be proud of.

Renesmee snapped back out of her flashback, and for another moment, she looked at her family, the ones who had driven her to be what she was today. Then she announced "I'm going to see Jake down at La Push, mom. I'll be home later." And with that, she ran to the front door, slipped on a pair of purple jelly flip-flops, and ran out the front door into the woods. I really need to talk to him.