AN: TWILIGHT AND ALL ITS CHARACTERS ARE OWNED BY STEPHANIE MEYER. I ONLY OWN RAVEN AND THIS STORY. ~ADecentRead

I always thought about how I would die...I had more than enough reason in my life to, but would it mean anything to anyone? Is my existence pointless? Breathing heavily, I stared across the rectangular room at the soulless eyes of the hunter. He smiled at me wickedly. I grasped the only thing I had to defend myself, gripping the silver blade hidden up my sleeve.

Surely, this was a lovely way to die. To protect those I loved. Honorable even. It should count for something.

I knew that if I never moved to Forks, I would have probably died already. Most likely at the hands of the same creature that stalked me like prey right now. But fearless as I am, I still don't regret my decision. When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Manically, the hunter laughed as he stepped forward to kill me...

My mother drove me to the airport in her 2006 Dodge neon as I rolled down the window. It was eighty eight degrees in Charlotte, North Carolina; the sky was a perfect baby blue with sun shining as bright as can be. I was wearing my black sleeveless shirt and my faded blue jeans. Turning my camo baseball cap around, I sighed. My winter coat laid in my lap. Where I was headed would be wet and cold.

Northwest of Washington State, up the Olympic Peninsula sat the small town of Forks. Constantly under a cover of dreary clouds and heavy rainfall. It was exactly my kind of place.

My mother had dragged me away from there as a child to escape the marriage she clearly couldn't handle. Yet, she sent me back every summer until I was 14. It was Forks I was escaping to now. I resented North Carolina. The sunlight always in my face, the happy-go-lucky attitude that I couldn't stand. I loved Forks.

"Raven," my mother said to me for the 4,000th time before I got out of the care and onto the plane. "You don't have to do this."

I rolled my eyes then stared at her. How could I leave this childish, harebrained woman to fend for herself with her loser, jobless husband? Easy that's how! "I want to go," I answered, sighing in annoyance. I always was annoyed at her attempts to make me more cheery like her.

"Tell Charlie I said 'Hi'."

"Sure," I grabbed my bags from the trunk and turned to get into the airport.

"I'll come visit soon," she persisted, "You can come back whenever you want."

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry so much." She trapped me in a bear hug, "I love you," I managed to squeak out. Somehow I was able to squeeze myself out of her hug and into the airport. Never looking back.

It was a 4 hour flight to Seattle then another hour in a small plane to Port Angels and then another hour back down to Forks. I looked forward to the ride with my Dad. Dad had always been very excited about me moving back home. Maybe more than I was. But I doubted it.

Dad was awaiting for me with the cruiser. I smiled wryly in my head at the thought of the town's people wondering what was going on. My Dad gave me a distant one armed hug once I got off the plane. It was good to know he was still emotionally inept, "It's good to see you, Rave." I smiled warmly at hearing my childhood nickname, "You've changed to much. Longer hair, taller and not to mention the tattoo," he looked at my arm as I smiled. On my inner left wrist was a red and black nautical star. He looked back up at me, "How's Renee?"

"Mom's mom. It's good to be back, Dad." I would have never called him Charlie to his face. Shows how disrespectful my mother was towards him. I had a couple of bags, I took most of my winter clothes though, I had a few favorites I just couldn't resist taking. I couldn't leave them at my mother's pretty in pink mercy. "I found a good car for you," he declared once we were on the road.

"Really? What is it?" I asked in curiosity. I could have had my own car in North Carolina but it was only a 3 mile walk to the school so I high tailed it. I had gotten my license one summer here in Forks, so I was covered to drive.

"A 1966 Chevy Pickup." He spoke as he stopped at a red light. Ole fashioned pickup truck, exactly what a gearhead girl would want.

"Cool, maybe I'll give Jacob Black a call, if he even remembers me and we'll jazz it up," I opened my checkbook while we toted along. I had made a decent amount of money in North Carolina working on cars and stuff, "How much is it?"

"Well, I already got it for you." I smiled in return. How amazing was this man? From my first moments, my father and I were connected. We were always so close despite the fact that he was socially inept. Hard to socialize, yes. Heartless and cold, most definitely not.

"Okay, then, how much do I owe you for it then?"

"Don't worry about it, Rave. I didn't mind. I want you happy here." My Dad stared blankly at the road ahead. Even though he was anti-social and I was used to his ways.

"That was really nice. Thank you. It means a lot to me." I was ecstatic to be here. It was beautiful, I could not deny. Everywhere I looked it was green. Plush moss covered the trunks of tress, the ground and even the ferns.

"I bought it off Billy Black. You remember Billy, don't you?"

"Didn't he go fishing with us every summer?" I looked in my Dad's direction.

"Yes, well he's in a wheelchair now so he can't drive it anymore."

"Oh, well, that's disheartening," I looked down. It was hard to hear that someone I considered family had such unfortunate news.

Finally we made it to the old house. The small, two bedroom Victorian house that he bought in the early months of their marriage in an attempt to make my mother a part of his isolated, vintage world. And there, parked in the driveway in the front of the house that hasn't changed, was my truck.