The next morning was even worst. Being unconscious most of the night didn't help the way I thought it should have. It was just more real when I woke feeling like I'd had a bad dream, praying that it was only a bad dream, then realizing that it wasn't. The realization was the hardest part. Along with the realization came the tears. The body shaking sobs that never seemed stopped no matter how much you wanted it to. And the false hoping and praying that it wasn't true. That somehow, somewhere everything was going to be okay, but still knowing that it wasn't. I didn't cry when he left. There was just emptiness. The emptiness finally came two days later, along with the reluctant acceptance.

I was in this alone. He had taken away my future family and an animal attack had taken away Charlie…

An animal attack.

The thought brought me back to almost two years ago. When Charlie's friend, Waylon, had the same cause of death. Only I later found out that it wasn't an animal attack at all. It was his kind. Those like James and Victoria. One of which who still very well alive or whatever it is they do.

Victoria was alive and no doubt seeking vengeance on her mate… And he left me here unprotected. They all did. I shouldn't have been surprised that he'd broken another one of his promises. His promise to be as if he'd never existed were broken when he left me pregnant as well as the promise to keep me safe when he left me for dead, putting Charlie in the middle of it.

Rage replaced the emptiness. I was left here pregnant and to fight for myself. Was this how all their human experiments ended?

I refused to let this get any worse. My life wasn't the only life one the line.

Grabbing my suitcase, I stuffed it with the first things I could get my hands on. Clothes, photo albums, and a wads of cash I'd saved up. I'd buy everything else I needed when I got to wherever I was going.

I shoved on my sneakers, not bothered that I hadn't changed my clothes or that I was wearing only my nightgown. But I was bothered by the loose floor board that I'd almost tripped over. Examining it, I looked as if it had been tampered with; like someone had pulled it up.

Carefully getting on all fours, I dug my nails into the floor's crevices and pulled up the floor board. There I found a small shoe box. From the amount of dust on it, it looked as if it was placed here recently. Opening, I found the items that had been missing since he left. The plane tickets to Jacksonville, the stereo to my truck, the CD with the songs he composed, and the picture Alice took at my party.

I stared at the items, unable to move. The angry part of me wanted to burn all of it. But the part that still loved him wanted to cherish what little memory I had left of him. I hated myself for still having that part of me.

Eventually, the logical part of me won; deciding to use what items I could to my advantage. Grabbing the plane tickets and the picture, I stuffed them in my bag. I closed the lid on the stereo and CD, deciding to give in a little to my angry side and bury them where they belonged.

With him. In his meadow.

And if he ever decided to return to Forks, he would hopefully find them.

Oddly enough, the thought of him finding them fed the part that loved him. And another thought rose to mind.

Grabbing pen and paper, I scribbled down what my mind could wholesomely gather. I folded the paper, hoping, if he ever did find it, that he could read my hurried script and shoved it into the box.

The trek to the meadow was long and tiring, emotionally and physically. The toll it took on my pregnant body couldn't be good for the baby. I was barely able to make it here when it was just me and my 110-pound self. Now, carrying thirty extra, it was a struggle to even breathe correctly. The shovel I dragged along with me only aided in me not tripping.

And emotionally... The closer I got to the meadow, the tighter my chest felt. Like someone had taken hold of my heart and squeezed it tighter and tighter. And the more I tried to ignored it, the worst it got. It almost felt like a warning; telling me to turn back. But I clenched onto the box in hand and hoped that the deep breaths I was taking would help subside the pain.

Walking into the meadow, I stared at how drastically the scenery had changed. It was completely unrecognizable. Gone were the beautiful lavender flowers than had once adorned the landscape, and in replace were ugly stiff weeds that even when kicked wouldn't budge. Even the way the sun shone was different; less pretty. The sweet sunshine that once seemed to kiss your cheeks now burned with intensity.

I ignored the lost beauty and stuck the shovel into the dry soil which broke on impact. The hideousness of the landscape made it that much easier. Had the flowers I remembered still been intact, memories of our time together would have gotten the best of me. Now, I was hard to imagine us here at all.

My breathing turned into wheezing as my shoveling became more furious. Angry tears poured from my eyes as I stabbed the dirt repeatedly. When I'd finally dug a hole sizable enough to fit the box, I threw it in and quickly covered it, purposely making a large pile of dirt on top. It would be easy to notice that way.

Finally stopping to catch my breath, I felt a sharp pain shoot through my back and into my stomach. I'd experienced this before, but never this intense. The slowly subsiding pain left me panting. The sounds of my own breathing were so loud I almost didn't hear the rustle of the bushes across from me.

Looking up, I saw a familiar pair of golden eyes staring back at me. We stared at each other intently, my flight response not yet kicking in. With a baby bump the size of Jupiter, I wasn't sure what kind of running I would be doing but I knew it wasn't going to be much.

Oddly, as he stepped into the meadow I relaxed. Seeing as from his topaz eyes I wasn't in any danger. I was going to be fine... At least, that's what I told myself before another contraction made it's way to my abdomen. This one worst than the last.

I doubled over before finally falling to my hands and knees. He was next to me in an instant. This definitely wasn't Braxton Hicks; my water broke.

"Please," I begged, "my baby." I still wasn't sure what exactly is was he wanted but at this point he was my chance at help. The determined look on his face told me was ready to do just that. And he did.

I gave birth to the twins on the floor of that meadow. June 20th. How ironic.