Yeah. So in desperation to save my own worthless skin, I kissed this gimongous brute in the middle of a library and broken glass. What else could I do?! Desperate situations call for desperate measures!

I kissed him. Then I ran. Not the 'Oh Crap It's Gym Time' run, but the 'Holy Shit I'm Gonna Get My Blood Sucked Out By A Psycopath' run. As you can guess, that's very motivating.

Luck obviously loved me today. Emmett left the keys in the Thunderbird. I cranked up adn felt the car practically purr underneath me. Tires squealed, and gravel suddenly realized it could fly. There was no way in hell I was staying there. Black magic my ass! Those freaks were bloody vampires! . . Who listened to Mozart. . . and hated donuts.

I should've known.

The thing was: I had found them out. I was a leak in their little plan, and the only distraction I could come up with was the ancient ritual of sharing spit. I briefly wondered how much a plane ticket cost until I realized once more that I was a freaking minor/fugitive.

Truth was, my 'guardian' was a stupid drunk who was satisfied as long as she was paid for keeping me. If I hadn't gotten the check at my house, she would certainly have kept it all. I just kept out enough for groceries and the apartment bill each month. Teh strange thing was that nobody knew where the money came from. I had checked the bank, but all they could say was that it came from a trust fund. I never really needed parents, so after the initial stages of Who-Am-I? I kinda just accepted it.

I couldn't get any money out by myself until I was 18. That is why a plane ticket was ruled out completely which also completely sucked, since I was about to be feast number One.

I parked the car in front of my apartment with full intentions of hijacking it for future use. If I got one thing out of this nightmare, it would be a sweet ride.

I ran to the door and began frantically fumbling for my keys. I thought I had sufficiently calmed down, but I seemed to have been mistaken.

"Hello."

I would've screamed, but there was this lump in my throat that had the density of lead. I believe it was more a squeak. And it was all Mark's fault. I believe I told the Prodigal Son something along the lines of "Get the hell out of my sight, before I personally introduce your ass to my foot." Or something like that. I'm afraid I slammed the door in his face as well.

I wanted to know how in teh world every new guy I had met had spontaneously learned my address through various ways and tactics. Doesn't anybody respect privacy anymore?! Had Jaspter randomly deemed Mark worthy of my address?!

I pulled my suitcase out from under my bed and began throwing random clothes in it. I sat on it and latched the clasp before promptly dragging it into the kitchen where I filled a Walmart bag full of oranges and various sandwich stuffers. I wasn't daft enough to forget food.

I yanked and fought my way out the door with various threats on my luggage. I walked and stumbled purposefully down the step and to the car with Mark behind me telling me random crap that wasn't worth a second thought.

He grabbed my suitcase as I was about to hoist it into the car. "Where are you going?!"

"Away from here," I shouted into his face.

"Why?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I tried to tell you! Besides! What does it matter?"

He rolled his eyes. "At least, I would try to listen!"

"Well, you know what?! I don't care if you listen as long as I get out of this bloody town!"

He didn't relinquish his grip and instead, decided to close his eyes as if thinking which I certainly didn't have time for, but try as I might, I couldn't pull the suitcase from his hands. I tried to project a calm self assured appearance while I was pulling, but I'm afraid hiding emotions like fear, determination, and general stubborn-ness is not my forte. He lifted the suitcase and pried my hands away gently.

"You've gotta be safe," he said as he sat the suitcase in the Thunderbird.

It was the second shock of today, and I was going to take this chance before this abnormally strong person decided to change his mind. I hopped in the driver seat nad began to rev it up. Mark appeared at the window.

"Do you want some company?" His tone was almost hopeful.

I thought about it for a whole of ten seconds. One the road, anything could happen. It might be useful to have a blast from the past around. I kicked the passenger door open.

"Get in."

Mark grinned and somehow vaulted over me into the passenger seat. I dismissed it as relevant to future events but not important at the time. We sped away as only someone with a death wish drives. Luckily, no cops showed up. I don't think they would've caught me if they found me though. I stuck to back roads relying more on them predicting me taking the interstate. Besides, I couldn't afford to get caught up in a wreck.

After passing around thirty barns and twice as many cow fields, Mark decided to ask the inevitable and single most annoying question on a random and totally unexplained road trip.

"Where are we going?"

I ignored him.

"Where are we going?"

"Just shut up, okay?!" I couldn't help it. Seeing freezers full of blood tends to bring out a certain amount of panic in people.

He stayed silent awhile before saying, "You know, I always wanted to go on a roadtrip." He looked meaningfully at me. "But I always imagined mapping it out first."

"Things don't always go as planned," I whispered.

I didn't ever plan anything. I didn't plan on being an orphan. I didn't plan on living here. I didn't plan on never knowing my past. But I did plan on finding the Cullen's secret, and when I did find it, I had run away with my tail between my legs. I gripped the wheel. I was being a hopeless coward, and I hated every minute of it.

"What are you doing," asked Mark incredulously as I turned into someone's driveway.

"Going back."

He smiled in a very odd caring way. "Something back there has you pretty scared."

I glared at him. "Wanna bet?"

"If you mean bet on you beating the hell out of it, sure."

I smiled. "Good man."

The miles seemed to fly by, since I felt a little better and quite more accomplished. It wasn't long until Mark and I were singing like idiots along with the radio. To my surprise, I was having fun despite the fact that I was driving myself to my own death. Life's ironic, isn't it?

I parked outside of my apartment and settled down to business. After forcing Mark to lug my crap into the apartment (I had to make him pay for gas money somehow), I settled down to the grueling task of finding some garlic in my refridgerator amid teh numerous take out boxes.

"I'm hungry," stated Mark crossly.

I shoved some salt at him. "Make yourself useful."

"Doing what?!"

"Pour some salt outside my door." Salt is suppose to stop fairies, so it was worth a shot against vampires.

He gave me a look-at-the-crazy-woman face before vacating my sight. I returned to my search and was rewarded by the sight of a pack of about ten garlic cloves. I pulled them out and sniffed. Okay, so they were looking a little green adn smelled like the wrong end of a dog, but it would probably just make them more potent. I heard a crash.

"Uh. . . Jaz?"

I slammed the refridgerator and made a point of stomping into the hallway. It was there that I was stopped dead. Mark was useless.

"You spilled salt!!"

He looked sheepish. "Ummm. . . Do you have a broom or something I could clean it up with?"

"Do you know that spilling salt is bad luck?! Do you know how much I don't need bad luck right now?!"

"Oh! Come on! That's just a silly superstition!"

"I don't care! I want Luck on my side! Get out and go home!"

"But-"

"GO!"

It was there that I slammed and locked the door. He could take the salt and his bad luck back to that pit from which he came!

Next on the list of vampiratic defense measures was the holy water. I wasn't Catholic, which is why I had zero holy water in my house. Therefore, I proceeded to make houmemade holy water by saying a small prayer as I filled the pot with tap water and began to boil the hell out of it.

I fiddled with my cross necklace as I searched under my bed for my super soaker. I had bought it last year to pelt people with since the landlord wouldn't even permit a BB gun on his property. So far, I had great aim.

The doorbell rang. I stood frozen with fear for a moment before shaking it off and managing a shaky "Who is it?" This, of course, wasn't satisfactory at all.

"Who is it?" I was stronger this time, and my super soaker was full.

There wasn't an answer. The clock in the hallway ticked slowly and solidly. The silence made me angry. If you're going to ring the doorbell, you should have the decency to answer when the busy person indoors talks to you.

"All right, you - whoever you are - do not lurk in my doorway like some sort of stalker! Who are you? And what do you want?"

More silence in which my anger/determination gauge began to max out. If they were gonna come in, they should just do it already.

The doorknob began to turn then stopped. I smiled. Having the foresight to lock the door was a good thing. I began to inform my intruder of this when the knob began to turn again,and a very loud and metalic cracking sound exploded throughout the apartment. The door opened and revealed a very dispicable kind of person. A Cullen.