Renesmee slept. The twilight of her descent into the dream world often scared Renesmee. Colors darkened and swirled around her casting ominous shadows on the barely perceptible dreamscapes that surrounded her. Scary faces, hands reaching towards her and a feeling of being paralyzed were common. It wasn't so much the destination of her dream, but rather the journey that frightened her.

That night she fought her way down past all the scary faces and found herself in a wooded area. A siren blared and hurt her eardrums. As the blackness in her vision dissipated, she saw flashing red lights. The blaring sound caused her to move a few steps away from the parked Emergency vehicle that she faced. The red flashing light came from the hood of the car, twirling in circles.

Yellow boundary tape cautioned Renesmee from moving any closer to the swarm of policeman that surrounded an abandoned vehicle.

A fog lay heavily in the night, a grey blanket of mist that rose like a gas from the surrounding trees and billowed into the air in amorphous clouds that shrouded the trees and gravel road. Policemen were huddled into heavy coats and dodged the constant spattering of condensation dropping from the trees. The heavy mist was creating a bead work of dampness on her clothing.

Renesmee looked down and noticed that she was dressed in her pink embroidered pajamas she'd worn to bed. A familiar voice caught her attention. Her eye caught a slight glimmer from Charlie's Sheriff badge that shone brightly in the moonlight. He was off in the distance, away from the commotion, talking to someone heatedly on the telephone.

"Yes, Sir…I know you don't want to cause an uprising of panic, but we have to notify the county. The problem with this case Sir is uh…. we cannot locate a body. All we have to go on is the girls abandoned car, and a pretty torn up backpack. Um yes, I know. We need to put out a warning to all the hikers in the area that those large bears may be back."

Renesmee found herself in this dream drifting slowly towards Charlie. He paced near the edge of the bleak forest. This made the feeling of uneasiness grow in the pit of her stomach.

Her eyes scanned the black forest, sensing that she was being watched. The surrounding forest was threatening and cold. She was about to turn her attention back to Charlie when she saw something. Two demonic eyes were peering out from the darkness. Eyes that were intently locked on Charlie.

Renesmee ran towards Charlie but her legs felt like they were caught in molasses. She was moving forward in slow motion. Her own weight was unbearable. The bushes parted and the monstrous yellow eyes were menacing as the beast stepped out, revealing itself to be Jacob Black.

"Jacob?" Renesmee said quietly to herself.

"Jacob!" she called out to him in a panic.

His lip pulled over his white teeth, making him suddenly hostile. Renesmee could only watch as the onslaught unraveled before her. Paralyzed, she watched as Jacob lunged for Charlie's throat.

Just as she was close to witnessing her grandfather's death, the scene abruptly shifted in time and space and now she was alone in the dark forest. Once again, the unknown yellow eyes regarded her slowly, and Jacob turned from her and ran deeper into the darkness. Although she was never afraid of Jacob's wolf form in real life, now as she dreamt of the menacing snarl that ripped from his throat, she now was terrified. Still, she called out to him.

"Jacob…. Wait!"

He disappeared into a gigantic hallowed out tree.

Renesmee followed and found the dark entrance-way where Jacob had vanished.

As she descended the steps she could hear the constant dripping from the forest soil. There seemed also to be a water main that ran through the ground creating an ever-present sound of rushing water. Renesmee felt a quick flicker of vertigo when she reached the final step; the relentless clutter skewed her sense of balance.

The interior of the tree was lined with dark mahogany bookshelves with a single ladder to trace along the shelves just as it would look in a library. Extraneous objects filled every available space. Along the floor were stacks upon stacks of what looked to be ancient manuscripts and books all varying in size. There was not one space upon which the countless stacks of papers and articles did not touch. A single lamp provided little light. It sat on an ornately carved antique writing desk that was positioned in the center of the cement room. On the desk were more piles of books. One particular antique book caught her eye.

The Half Blood Prophecy, was written in bright red ink along the books spine.

Searching for more clues as to what this dream could possibly mean, from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a woman. Renesmee quickly turned to look at the woman. The stranger's stance was menacing.

She was half crouched, readying herself for an attack. As Renesmee lifted her hand in a motion that said stop, the stranger mimicked her exact movement. Renesmee glanced down at her own stance and noticed that the woman was also mirroring her aggressive posture. As she stood upright, the woman did likewise. Renesmee waved her hand back and forth and watched as the woman did the same. The woman's long hair was blond and hung in loose waves to the small of her back. She was pretty and looked similar to her mother. The woman's expression changed to one of concern. On second thought she had her father Edward's eyes. The strangers face went white and her eyes wide. Renesmee stuck out her tongue at the women who in turn stuck her tongue out at Renesmee.

"It's me." Renesmee said. "But later." Renesmee looked at her reflection in awe. She walked up to her matured reflection and reached out her hand.

"A mirror." Renesmee mumbled to herself.

To the left Renesmee saw a black and white photo pinned to the wall, it was a picture of her mother. Her mother seemed to be still human when the photo was taken.

The sound of glass shattering pulled her attention toward the center of the room behind her.

A different woman sat on the edge of the desk. The pile of glass lay shattered at her feet. The stranger quickly knelt down to clean up the glass. Renesmee realized that she was standing straight up, which proved that this was not another reflection she was seeing.

The strangers lips moved sinuously, "Oh, my…. you surprised me my dear child. I am so sorry about that, I didn't mean to startle you, but you really should not be here." The woman said pointedly.

She had hip-length white-blond hair, the color that normally only preschoolers have and it was as fine as a child's hair, too, whipping around her like pale silk when she moved. She was smallish. Little bones. Her hands and feet were delicate. Renesmee stared at the stranger and the woman returned her glare with wide silvery green eyes, fascinated. She smiled then, making little dimples in her cheeks.

The woman's harmonious features gave way to a hint of worry, "My darling, I know you must be confused and are eager to ask questions. But really, you shouldn't have come Renesmee. Now is not the appropriate time for us to meet."

Renesmee was stunned, how did this strange woman know her name?

"Soon…. I promise we will meet accordingly my dear.", The woman continued. "But now you mustn't sleep a moment longer. You must wake. Soon we will meet again."

Suddenly, the strangers face shifted side to side and Renesmee began her journey upwards to consciousness. The dreamscape around her took on its ghoulish form and she could feel hands clawing at her and whispers softly begging her to stay. Suddenly two hands jerked her down to come face to face with the woman she saw murdered, Irina. Renesmee screamed and tried to break away, but her hold proved too strong. "Look at me," Irina said. Renesmee obeyed and looked into the eyes of the woman she knew was dead. "Irina?" She questioned.

"Beware of Edgar Krait." Irina said urgently. With that she was catapulted upwards until consciousness jarred her like a blow to the head.

Renesmee's mother, Bella, listened to her daughter as she dreamt. Renesmee mumbled into her pillow. A few minutes ago, she had been notified by her daughter's nightmare when she let out a soft cry and had thrashed for a moment in the sheets. Now Bella raised herself on one elbow, cocked her head, and listened intently, trying to decipher her daughters muffled speech. Renesmee was saying the same thing over and over into the pillow. The almost panicky urgency in her voice made Bella nervous. She leaned closer to her, straining to understand.

Suddenly, Renesmee shifted her head just enough to turn her mouth from the pillow, and her words came clear though no less mysterious than when they had been muffled: "Edgar Kraite," she murmured, and then her words dissolved into a barely audible keening, a plaint of piercing distress that was not weeping, but worse. Bella put a hand on her forehead, wiping away the sweat that formed on her brow.

"Baby girl, you're dreaming." Bella said trying to wake her.

With a choked cry, Renesmee sat up in bed, seizing Bella's wrist and twisting it away from her as though it were seeking to harm her. Renesmee was staring right through Bella, perhaps seeing some imaginary threat, though her terror was real. She was not merely pale, but translucent, as if the very substance of her was evaporating in the tremendous heat of terror. Though awake, she nevertheless seemed to see the menace from her dream. Her eyes wide with fright; her face had been broken into sharp new contours by the hammer of shock.

"Honey, let go. Its me." Bella wasn't hurt, but she realized how strong her daughter had become. She blinked, shuddered and then released her.

Taking a step forward, but not wanting to crowd her, she asked, "Sweetie, what happened? What did you see?"

Edward suddenly was at his wife's side, appearing from thin air. He interceded, "Sweetheart, don't worry, we're here now. It was just a bad nightmare. You can go back to sleep and we will be right here when you wake up."

His eyes had a wild look, and his steaming exhalations rushed from him at a rate that indicated incipient panic.

Even in this unnerving night, Bella felt a certain sensual response at the sight of her husband. Bella liked to touch her husband's hard as stone chest. He felt solid, therefore reliable. His physique matched his character. She could depend on him, always.

Edward saw Renesmee's dream; his body had a coiled-spring tension, every muscle taut. "What was that? A nightmare?" Bella said. As if it helped him think, Edward ran one hand through his hair several times, mussing it badly. Renesmee had drifted back into a quiet sleep. "Is she alright?" Bella added. Edward was lost in thought. "Edward, I'm worried. What did she see, I know you saw it."

Tipping his head back, studying the bedroom ceiling with evident anxiety, the initial roughness in his voice smoothing into a solemn silken tone of mesmerizing intensity, he said, "It didn't make any sense. Usually there is some logic, some pattern to it. But this one…I can't make heads or tails of it. It's probably just a normal dream"

His words plucked her nerves. "Edward, you're scaring me."

Lowering his gaze, meeting her eyes, he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sure it's just a dream, like the ones you used to have while you were human."

She knew what he meant, and he knew that she understood. Yet both of them were reluctant to express the truth that they suspected. Grim-faced, she paced the room once more, mind a whirl not only with the events of the previous week, but the ominous dream words of Renesmee, the dire predictions of some distant future, a future with Edgar Kraite.