Dear Diary,October 23rd

Hi, my name is Juliet Marie Ero. I'm not really used to all of this diary-writing stuff, because I've never done it before, but this morning my Aunt Joan gave me a notebook with the word 'diary' written on the front, so I figured what the heck.

I just arrived in a small town called Forks, Washington, because my parents died back in Australia where I've lived up till now—I'm sixteen, by the way. So far, I can't really say anything good about this place. It rains a lot, it's a small town, and so far I haven't seen or heard from my uncle at all. My aunt's nice, though. She reminds me a lot of someone, but I can't remember who.

Um, anyways, about my self… I already told you my name, right, so, um… my birthday is November 3rd, my favourite animal is the cat, and I absolutely hate green beans.

Sorry, I don't really know what to write, because, again, I've never kept any sort of journal or diary before—except for once in sixth grade when my teacher was very interested in 'self reflection'—so, well, yeah… ha.

Well, my aunt's calling me now. It's Saturday, so I wonder if she'll make me go to school this Monday… I hope so, I can't stand just sitting around doing nothing. I just need something to think about. That's about it for now, so, bye!

—Juliet

I put the notebook back down on my bed, and stood up to answer my Aunt calling me. "Yes?" I asked, walking down the short hallway and into the kitchen—which was basically the length of the small house.

"I have to go to work, sweetie, but I made you some scrambled eggs. They're on the table, I hope you like them." She said, gesturing towards the table where, on a plate, there was a pile of something that, not even in my wildest dreams, would I guess was meant to be scrambled eggs. "I was thinking that once I got home from work, you and I could go on a little tour, okay?"

I nodded, and she kissed me on the cheek before grinning and then almost twirling out the door.

I walked over to the table and sat down, feeling as though my cheek was probably stained with my aunt's lip stick. I picked up a fork and took a bite out of my 'breakfast', and immediately realized that my Aunt Joan, while being eccentric, glamorous, hyper, and somewhat childish, she could not cook.

I walked over to the fridge and found that it was nearly bare. The freezer, however, was stocked full of frozen pizzas, pre-made meals, and ice cream. I almost laughed out loud, before picking out a 'pizza pocket' and placing it on a plate in the microwave.

The minute and twenty-five seconds that it took to cook, I spent looking around the kitchen.

The cabinets were white with black handles. There was a stainless steel fridge covered with magnets and pictures. One of them was a black and white photo of two girls. One of them was taller, and older than the other, but they were both wearing sundresses and giant smiles on their faces. At first I couldn't tell who it was, and then it hit me.

The photo was of my aunt, and my mother. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten, even for a second, that my Aunt Joan was not just my aunt, but also my mother's sister. Joan and Claudette. It was hard to picture them as young girls, even with the photo right in front of me. My mom would've been the older one. I looked at her picture, finding it difficult to meet her eyes.

Then it hit me, and I sunk to the floor slowly with the painful realization that the person my aunt had reminded me of had been my own mother, and the even more painful realization that I hadn't been able to remember that.

I just sat there for what seemed like a long time, but I knew it really wasn't, mainly because of the microwave timer that went off, beeping annoyingly to inform me that really only about a minute had gone by. After I retrieved my pizza pocket and taken a massive bite out of it, I sunk back down to the floor, and sat there again, with silent tears rolling down my cheeks and into my breakfast. Yes, it was as lame as it sounds.

Once I was done with my tear stained pizza pocket, I stood up and washed my face at the kitchen sink, although I was pretty sure that my cheeks were still puffy, and my eyes were still red.

I sighed, I guess I'll just see what's on TV… I decided, looking at the clock (–2:48, I can't believe I slept in that long!) and hoping that my aunt wouldn't come in too soon. I turned on the television and was looking through the channels when I began to wonder why there was a bell ringing. It took me a few more minutes to realize that someone was actually at the door, ringing the door bell, and waiting for me to answer. In my pyjamas, with my tear stained face, crazy hair, and over all distaste for most people in general, I opened the door. And gasped.