June 21, 2009~

My mind is set on continuously thinking about the visions I saw from the dream machine. They were so fascinating to see, but I don't want to go back to life as Charlotte Brenner. This is the only life I want. With the Cullens.

All I can hear are the small murmurs of Edward and Carlisle in the hallway. Kerry fell asleep, her hand still grasping mine tightly. The monitors beep low and slow, which isn't a good sign for me. My heart rate is decelerating…

I try to listen into the conversation, forcing myself to believe that everything is okay. Edward's voice is tense and so is Carlisle's. I come to realize that this is probably the last day with my real family.

I sit back and let my head rest against the pillow. The room has that sterile smell of antiseptics and medicine, and I hate it. I wish that I could be home in Forks instead of here in New Jersey.

Then I hear footsteps and more familiar voices: the rest of my family! Including Bella!! They are okay! They are alive! I feel like jumping for joy.

I also hear three more voices: very, very familiar. A boy with a deep voice, a girl with a high melodic voice, and a little girl with sophisticated language. I recognize the people as Sonic, Bristol, and Piper.

"Where is Renesmee?" Piper asks gravely.

"She's in the room," Edward chokes. There is dead silence.

"You have tortured her, Edward," Sonic growls. "She is dying. There is a gash in her back so deep that she has already lost too much blood." Whoa. I forgot that Sonic read people's memories by looking into their eyes.

"I'm sorry," my father says.

"She will not live." It is Carlisle this time. A whimper escapes from Piper.

"We just came to see if she was okay," Bristol tells him.

"Would you like to see her?"

"No. Saying goodbye before was hard; it'd be harder now," Sonic says. Then they are gone.

The door opens and I see Bella standing there with Edward behind her. "My baby!" Bella cries and runs to me, but stays frozen when she sees my injuries. She collapses in a chair and sobs tearlessly into Edward's chest.

"Renesmee," Edward begins, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Life for us is going to change. If we keep you here any longer you'll die. You have to leave so we can't hurt you anymore."

"What?" I say, my voice raising a few octaves higher. "No! You can't leave me! Where am I gonna go? I can't go back to the Brenners!"
"That's your only choice, love," he whispers. "It's what's best for you. It will be like we never existed."

"No, please!! I'll be better! Please!!" Salty tears begin to flow down my cheeks as I reach for him.

Carlisle walks in and hooks me back up to the Dream Machine. I try my hardest to pry the Velcro apart, but my fingers are too feeble. "NO, GRANDPA, PLEASE!!" I shout as my voice cracks.

"I'm sorry, Renesmee," he says and punches in the buttons.

"Dad! Mom!" I scream. "I can't leave you! Please! Stop!!"

Bella can't even turn to look at me. Edward looks as if he's being tortured.

"Mom! Dad! No!! Please! I can't leave you again!" I turn to Kerry. "Violet! VIOLET!" I reach my hand out to her, but Emmett holds her back. She, too, is hooked up to the whirring, buzzing machine.

"MOM! DAD! STOP THIS MACHINE! I WON'T DIE! PLEASE!" I cry, the tears drenching my paper hospital gown.

"I love you, Renesmee," Edward whispers, his fingers interlocking with mine just as everything fades away.

Love, life, meaning… over.*

Part II:

I wake up to the vaguely familiar white ceiling of a bedroom. I roll out of the bed and walk across the wooden floor, my head spinning from sleep. The little clock on my nightstand flashes the blue numbers—7:02 a.m. It is a Friday on November 20th.

I look at myself in the mirror and cover my mouth to prevent myself from screaming. Where are my milk chocolate brown eyes that I inherited from Bella?! And my thick bronze curls from Edward?! The only things left of Renesmee Carlie Cullen are my ivory skin and my memories.

"Charlotte! Time to get up for school!" Maria calls upstairs to me.

Oh my God, I think to myself. Charlotte…

I want to panic, but I know there is nothing I can do. "Edward? Bella?" I call out into the nothingness. There is no reply.

Maria opens the door. "C'mon, Char, it's time for school."

I get ready sluggishly, taking my precious time to think everything through. I was in the hospital room begging to stay. I remember Edward's last words: I love you, Renesmee. My dirty golden curls are wrapped in a messy bun in the back of my head. I grab an old backpack slung over the bedpost and head to the door. A huge poster on the wall stops me from going anywhere. The first thing that catches my eye: The Twilight Saga: New Moon...11.20.09

I gasp in horror at the fact that the Twilight Series still exists. The date scares me even more: November 20, 2009. Today is that day. The figures portraying Bella, Edward, and Jacob were all wrong. Megan Fox as Bella is wearing a mini skirt that is so short; her ass is practically hanging out. Her makeup is too dark and her hair is too perfect; her skin isn't even the beautiful cream ivory it's supposed to be. Edward is played by some freak I swear I've seen on Disney Channel before. I can't remember his name, but he looks nothing at all like my stunning father. His "serious" expression is so pitiful it's actually goofy, and Jacob; forget about it. Jacob isn't even Quileute. He's depicted by another actor I've never even seen before but he looks Spanish or something. There is not even the slightest hint of Native American in him, and I find tears pooling in my eyes. What is this? Who are these people? I scream in my mind. My head is swimming in circles in a pool full of sharks.

"It will be like we never existed," I quote aloud, remembering Edward's words to me. I turn and see every book of the Twilight Series on my bookshelf and fight back the tears that are bound to come. The Twilight Director's Notebook is slid in next to Breaking Dawn, and on the binding is a picture of the stupid-looking Edward and Megan Fox trying to look like the prostitute Bella.

"This is all wrong," I whisper, hurtling towards the ground. I stop myself from fainting just in time, but as I trudge downstairs and climb in Maria's minivan I feel dizzier than ever.

"Are you alright?" Maria asks, keeping her eyes on the road. I graze my forehead with my clammy fingers and notice that my slender fingers are trembling. "I'm fine," I mumble as we turn into the school parking lot. Ugh. How I dread this place.

I walk slowly through the hallways, my plaid skirt gently chafing my legs. My backpack seems ten tons too heavy for me and the weight of the sky is draped over my shoulders as I wait in line outside of the English room. Time and space brakes to a halt as everyone around me seems to pause. I stare into thin air and think nonstop about Edward and Bella. Where are they? What are they doing? I turn, expecting to see the gorgeous god and goddess standing there awaiting me, but instead see the other kids bustling around to get to their next class. Everything is in slow-motion as the loose strands of my hair are blown out in front of me and a boy steps in my path with a big grin on his face.

"Hey, Charlotte! You seem a little down today. How are things?" Rob asks.

"I think it'd be best if you just stayed away from me from now on," I growl venomously. The smile disappears from his face and he says, "I think you need to a hug…from me."

I grab his shirt collar and shove him into the wall. "I don't need help from anyone." Everyone is staring at me as I turn my back and stalk into the English room, taking a seat and putting my head down on the desk. The teacher assigns a paper to be completed in forty-five minutes on our current feelings and deep descriptions on how we feel. I pick my pen up and begin to write:

Today I feel as if I have been burdened with the weight of a thousand cinder blocks on my back. That is all I can say.

I hand my paper in early and walk back to my desk. In less than five minutes the teacher calls out, "Charlotte? Can I see you for a second?" I don't respond right away because I forget that is my name until some fat kid nudges me and says, "She's talkin' to you, Brenner."

"Oh. Right." I get up and lumber towards the desk, a dull expression carved into my impassive face. The teacher glares at me, adjusting her glasses. "May I ask why you wrote this and only this on your English paper, Miss Brenner?"

Miss Cullen, I want to correct but I bite my tongue. "It's how I feel today. Exactly like that."

"Do you need to see a psychologist? Because I can make that arrangement," she tells me.

I shake my head dully. "No. I'm fine. I'm just in a bit of a bad mood." I lean in closer and wink. "Probably PMS-ing."

She raises her eyebrows as I shrug and walk back to the desk.

The next class is math and it begins with a fifteen minute break. I sit at my desk alone, staring out the window, looking into the gloomy sky. Yeah, I see the clouds too, I tell my parents in my head. It's not only crappy in Forks today, but in Randale too.

"Charlotte?" a familiar voice rings out. I turn and see Christina Sollino standing there, a puzzled expression on her face. Oh, how I've missed her!

"Christina!" I reply excitedly for the first time today. "How are you? How've you been?"

She cocks her head in perplexity, her brown curls bouncing with her sudden movement. "Uh, I'm fine. I saw you yesterday."

I frown. "You did?"

"Um…yeah. You were in school. Is something wrong?"

"No," I hastily lie. "So what's up?"

Christina beams. "Well a bunch of us were going to see New Moon tonight in theaters and I just wanted to know if you were definitely coming! I got your tickets online already!"

"Um…er…" I hesitate. New Moon? I don't think I can handle it. But the pleading look in Christina's green eyes makes me sigh in defeat and nod. "Okay sure fine."

"Great! I'm so glad! I mean, you liked Twilight and everything so we have to see New Moon!"

"Yeah," I say smiling weakly in response. "Can't wait." I think for a moment. "Christina?"

"Mm-hm?"

"Have you ever heard of Kristen Stewart?"

Christina's brow furrows and she shakes her head. "Nope."

"How about Rob Pattinson?"

"Uh…no."

"Taylor Lautner?"

"Nuh-uh."

I feel light-headed all of a sudden. When they said they it was going to be like they never existed, they were right. Not even the actor identities of them are real.

I suddenly realize that Carlisle made a terrible mistake when he pushed that button on the Dream Machine.

Part III:

I see Violet at lunch and immediately run to her. "Violet?" I whisper as she remains frozen in fear.

"Nessie," she says, her eyeballs glassing over. "What happened?"

"We got dumped here again, that's what."

"Can we ever go back?"

I sigh. "I don't think that's an option, Vi."

"I wanna go home. I feel really strange here. Everyone knows me, but I don't know them." Her large pleading eyes stare up at me in terror. "I miss Mom and Dad."

"You're telling me," I say grimly as I push past her to dump my lunch tray into the garbage can. I cannot eat a single bit of food—my throat burns for blood.

Part IV:

I stare at myself in my mirror as if I am about to magically transform back into my regular self. Nothing happens. I slam my brush down in frustration and curse loudly. Why does this have to happen to me?! Why couldn't I just be normal with my parents; everything would be perfect! But no, life just has to be a struggle.

The honk of a car horn brings me cascading down the stairs and dashing out the door as Maria shoves money into my hand and sends me off into the Sollinos' big black Escalade. "Have fun!" she calls. I sure hope I do.

"Hey Charlotte," Christina says, hoisting her neck around the passenger seat to see me. "You excited for the movie?"

"Yeah," I feign. "So thrilled."

A few of our other friends are in the car: Carrie, Lauren, Gabby, etc. But one girl in particular catches my eye: Michelle Garrison.

She looks sadder, weaker, and depressed. Did the Dream Machine affect her at all? I wonder to myself. That reminds me; I didn't see Chris Grimbo in school today. I feel as if I am missing something very important.

Mrs. Sollino pulls up in front of the Eastwood theater and lets us out. We practically trample each other in trying to get out among all the flurry of excitement, but regain our balance on the sidewalk and stroll past the long line of teenage girls out the doors; we already have our tickets. I try not to look at the drug store across the street on the corner, but manage to catch a glimpse of the display window beneath the peeling brown sign. I could swear I see Lorraine in the window, her thick golden-brown hair braided loosely.

Our crowd take our seats as the theater begins to fill up with over-excited Twilight fanatics. I grumble and slouch in the red velvet seat. The movie begins, and Megan Fox appears onscreen. I slap my hands over my eyes and will myself to ignore the sounds from the movie, but remove my hand in one part. Christina's hand is grasping my wrist and Gabby is sobbing. Michelle Garrison has the same pained appearance as she had before. Her soft blue eyes fill with tears as she watches the screen. I dare to look up at it, but instead of seeing Megan Fox in an oversized sweatshirt (which by the way makes her look like she's wearing no bottoms) and the corny Disney star, I see Edward standing before a human Bella in the middle of the woods. Her milk chocolate eyes are full of misunderstanding, confusion, and hurt as my father rests his smoldering topaz orbs on her face. His tousled bronze hair is even more wild than usual, and I find myself leaning on the edge of the seat. "I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. I won't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life without any more interference from me. It will be as if I'd never existed**."

It will be like we never existed…

My breathing comes in short, frantic pants as Edward gingerly kisses my mother on the forehead and disappears into the wilderness. I leap up and race through the aisle, earning bewildered looks from the rest of the viewers. I swing the door open and sprint through them, leaving Megan Fox standing in the middle of the forest screaming and crying and throwing a ridiculous tantrum. "Charlotte?" I hear Christina calling after me, but I wipe the flowing tears from my eyes and run outside into the cold atmosphere of late November. I punch the giant movie poster of Megan Fox and the Disney boy as hard as I possibly can.

"That's not Edward and Bella!" I scream to the heavens as wind whirls around me. "Give them back to me! I need them, God, please! You can't just take my parents away from me! And you can't take them from Violet either! GIVE ME BACK THE CULLENS!!"

People walking on the sidewalks begin to stare and stay away from me. Christina bursts through the doors of the theater with two young workers. She grabs my shoulders and tries to settle my irrepressible sobs. "Charlotte, Charlotte, it's just a movie. You must calm down! Edward comes back in the end! I promise! And, you know that too. You've read the book! You already knows what happens."

I sniffle and look her in the eyes. "It's not that. Edward and Bella…are my real parents."

"They're fictional, Charlotte. It's okay, it's not real."

I narrow my eyes and rip out of her clutch. "They are too real. I lived with them for some of my life." I walk across the street. "I'm getting out of here, because no one wants to listen to a crazy screw up. Go enjoy that stupid Hollywood rip-off."

Christina gapes as I trip and fall face first into the road, my Converse shoelace getting caught in the sewer ledge. I bend down and try to wedge it out.

"Charlotte! What are you doing?!" she hollers, but I ignore her. My cheeks flush with chagrin as I yank and tug at the lace. Damn, it was stuck pretty well in there.

One of the workers runs out to me and grabs my arm. His large brown eyes are full of uncertainty.

"Let go of me!" I order, pushing his eager hand away with my elbow.

"No, ma'am. You have to get outta the road. Let me help," he says. His voice is young, innocent. He looks no older than sixteen.

"I got this, LET GO!" I shout, wrenching at the string harder.

"Ma'am, we will get struck by a—" We both look up inn unison to see a giant truck speeding towards us. Its headlights blind me.

"TRAVIS!!" the other boy yells.

"CHARLOTTE!!" Christina echoes.

"Oh…no," Travis says, his voice only a zombie-like drone. I hold my breath and jerk at the lace harder and harder, making zero progress.

"Get outta here, kid," I hiss to him. He doesn't respond with even a slight flinch. Beads of sweat form on my forehead as I pull with all my might at it. "Save yourself, Travis!" I demand, but his eyes are dazed like a blind man's.

I try to get my shoe off, but the tight shoelace is cutting off the circulation in my foot. Right away, I know death is near. So near, I can feel its rotten breath on my neck.

"God, have mercy," I murmur as my life flashes before my eyes. "I love you Bella and Ed—" There is a crack of thunder, the honk of a horn, the striking light of the truck, and then a bloodcurdling screech that will remain in my mind forever—it is none other than my own.

Everything blurs, and it is now that the pain shoots through me so bad that fire would feel nice right now; it dissolves just as fast. Then there is blackness, with only a delicate stream of light at the end of the tunnel. Today, I have met death.

TRUCK ACCIDENT KILLS TWO
A cargo truck ran over two teens that were believed to have been traumatized in Eastwood last night at around 9:00 p.m. Reports say that Charlotte Brenner, 14, was crossing the street when she got her shoelace hooked around a loose sewer screw. Travis Neilson, 16, a worker at Eastwood Theater, ran to help her but plunged into shock at the sight of the nearing vehicle. Both children were killed instantly.
"I didn't even see the kids," says truck driver Butch McClain. "Alls of a sudden, I heard screamin' and felt my truck go over somethin'. Sures enough, we checked the street and found [Travis and Charlotte] dead. [Travis] was broken and squished, but the girl was just cut and bloody. We's checked for a pulse, but there was none, like.
Two witnesses will bring this case to court for the Brenners and Neilsons in suing McClain. Christina Sollino, 14, and Colin Brownstone, 16, were the only real witnesses of this horrifying event. "It was something I hope I never see again," says Sollino of her best friend's death. "To just see it happen and know it was real was the worst part. I wish I could've been the one out there trying to help her instead of Travis. I wish the two of them could've had more time on Earth."

Then, I woke up.

Page Numbers from New Moon:
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these phrases. They are Stephenie Meyer's from her novel New Moon.
*p. 71 in New Moon
**p.73 in New Moon