To Catherine,

I have not slept in eight years

To Ana,

Burn. In. Hell.

The radio was turned up loud. Like really loud.

So loud that my car was shaken by the bass and I could barely hear myself wailing out lyrics to the Christmas carols that had started up on the radio as of November 1st.

I stopped at a red light. "It's beginning to look a lot like CHRISTMASSSSSS-"

A black truck pulled up in the lane on my right, to make the turn. The driver and I both had our windows rolled down and he gave a white grin. "Everywhere you GOOOOO~!"

I snorted and turned the music down a tad. When I did, I realized that there was a tiny little girl secured in the backseat of the truck who was laughing her ass off, her shining eyes barely peeking over the edge of the window.

"I'm not that bad of a singer," I commented to the other driver, just loud enough for him to hear me over the sound of sleigh bells.

The boy, who looked similar to Rusty from the day before with similar tanned skin, giant muscles and dark hair, just gave a laugh. "Nah, I think Claire-bear is just laughing at how silly Quilly is. Isn't that right, Claire?"

The adorable little girl gave a burst of laughter. "Again! Again!"

I obliged the girl, cranking up the radio. "Have a holly jolly Christmas! Its the best time of the year-"

The boy, who I assumed was 'Quilly', carried on my tune just as pathetically as I had started it. "Well, I don't know if there'll be snow-" Claire found this to be particularly funny, probably due to the fact that La Push was absolutely covered in the stuff. "-but have a cup of cheer!"

The light turned green and I waggled my fingers at Quilly and Claire-bear, who waved and giggled back respectively, before hitting the gas.

A couple of blocks later, I made it to home. Or not my home, considering how I was going to stay there for the next six days.

The La Push Hotel was less of a hotel than it proclaimed, it was more of a bed and breakfast. But as the only inn on the entire reservation, I had to make do. There were a handful of hotels in Forks and Port Angeles, but I didn't want to have to bother going back and forth everyday.

With my arrival, there were seven rooms occupied, the receptionist told me, out of fifteen rooms altogether. Most of the people staying were photographers who were just itching to get some good shots of those gigantic bears that had been running amok lately.

One of them had even mauled a woman a few years back, but when she was swarmed with reporters from the local news station, who would do anything for an interesting story from boring little La Push, her very big, very overprotective boyfriend sent them away. Her name had been forgotten as the news had died down.

But as of last year, more and more bears have been spotted. Hikers and others had reported in sightings and Forks was constantly hounded by reporters. La Push had, for the most part, steered clear of the madness, but it looked like the issue was overflowing onto the reservation.

Great. Just what I needed. People getting in the way.

The only reason that I was even on this side of the country was simple. My mom wanted me to find her sister.

Here's how the story works out:

Joy and Hope Quehpa were two sisters who were very fond of one another. Hope was older by several years, but the age did not stop them from being friends. When the time came for Hope to go to college, she left, fell in love and returned years later, pregnant with a baby (omg its me, much cool, so wow) to share the news with Joy.

This is the part in the story where things get sad.

Angry at years of abandonment from her older sister, Joy wanted nothing to do with older Hope and her baby. Without the support of her older sister, she had given up on high school altogether and was diploma-less. Joy was also pregnant, but her husband had died in a storm, leaving the poor woman widowed. She was really living a tragedy. So Joy kicked Hope out. Hope moved to Detroit, Michigan with her husband, John Flannigan.

Skip forward sixteen years and here we are. Hope Flannigan, forty-six years old, had been diagnosed with leukemia three years ago and she was ready to die.

I wasn't upset over it - I mean, I've had three years to accept the fact that one day, my mom wouldn't be there to welcome me home, but the reality of it was hitting me in the face repeatedly. Mom was sending me to do her dying wish - find Joy and apologize for her. Meanwhile, I had been slacking off, meeting hot guys (okay, only Rusty, but he was so good-looking, he counted for like eight guys. Oh and there was Quilly too, but considering how we only shared some caroling with a toddler, I didn't think we had much magic) and caroling on public roads.

Dad chose to stay with her all throughout the week that I'd be gone. They had most likely sent me away so I wouldn't see her like she was - broken and weak - and instead, onto this wild goose chase.

My own mother didn't want me there. Like, ouch.

And better yet, my fucking period had started once I had hit the road in that useless piece of shit I call a vehicle. And then the damned receptionist didn't even have pads! Only those flimsy (hiss) tampons!

I brought the car to a stop in the parking lot, climbing out. I had spent the day asking around about Joy Quehpa, but the only Joy that anyone knew was a Joy Ateara, which was useless information to me.

I hit the lock button on the car's door, shutting it behind me, jogging inside the building (concealing my thinly-veiled dislike for that receptionist and her god forsaken tampons) and up a flight of stairs. I unlocked the door, barely remembering to bolt it behind me, throwing myself onto the couch with a sigh.

Joy Quehpa was nowhere to be seen. The only Joy for miles was Joy Ateara and that was couldn't be her. Even if Joy had married an Ateara, that wouldn't make sense for her name to be Ateara, since he had died years ago.

It suddenly hit me and I felt pretty damn stupid. Joy could have kept her husband's name and not gone back to Quehpa, even after his death.

I groaned, realizing that finding her would require for me to actually get up.

I yanked off my glasses and tossed them onto the nightstand, throwing my socks onto the floor moments after.

Joy could wait until the morning.

I closed my eyes. Seconds later, a thought occurred to me that had me out of bed again, pulling on my socks and pushing my glasses into place.

Joy could wait until the morning, but who is to say that Mom would?

I locked the room behind me, running down the stairs again, ignoring the disapproving look I got from Roberta the receptionist.

Receptionist? More like receptio-bitch. I mentally high-fived myself for that pun.

I made it out to the car, reaching for my keys when I realized that they weren't in my pocket. I slammed my head against the driver's window. My keys were sitting in the ignition.

This was long

I will never and have never read, own or seen Twilight