I feel cold lips on me that tingle with unhindered passion. More I want more. "More," I whimper. I hear a chiming laughter like a bell and then a tongue I feel a smooth wet tongue lick my…I wake up with a gasp. My eyes feel heavy and there is a heady scent that lingers in the air. A scent that smells of passion and…I feel my underwear, sopping wet.

"Great," I grumble at least I won't be seeing any vampires today because I have my period. Yup Aunt Flo has arrived folks.

A part of me wonders about what Bella does when she has her period. She is so dependent on Edward that she has to be in the same room as him "Because oh no, what if he does something cool that I will miss…" I gasp out like a school girl in a high pitched tone.

I look at my wild straight blond hair that reminds me of an electrocuted cartoon. You know the ones in the books where they touch something and they spark and the pictures shows the electric shock affecting their skeletons and then their hair and it stands straight up. Well that is my hair right now standing on end "Pathetic," my dry lips mutter at my natural reflection.

I wonder what my skeleton looks like, is it bleached white bone or is it red. "Why would it be red?"

"Not everything is red Hazel."

I turn around so quick that I can feel my neck crack…ouch. "Mother,"I feel my lips move with a tight grimace.

She carefully approaches me knowing how irritable I can be, especially today. I roll my eyes at her blatant caution, "It is good to see you awake. When Carlisle brought you back I was concerned."

"How long was I asleep this time?" I ask with genuine curiosity.

"Two days."

"Not bad," I murmur, it really is not the last time I fainted I was asleep for a week.

"Yes, well, it is not good either."

"No, I know," I say quietly because it is not. I am so sensitive I can't control my body it is as if It becomes so overstimulated by everything that it simply turns off on its own. "You said his name," I tell her with a satisfied smirk it was about time, he is her brother after all.

"Whose?"

I roll my eyes at my mother for a professor of knowledge because she seems to be an expert in everything she is dense. No really, when I say she is an expert in everything I mean from the neolithic period to calculus she is an expert.

That is why we are here in Forks she is studying something although I do not know what. How her and my father connected and fell in love I have no idea. He was a reindeer farmer and she is a walking encyclopedia.

"Carlisle," I tell her with my arms crossed and I can feel my lips upturning into a smile.

She snorts and playfully cuffs me on the head like I am a lion cub. Honestly I am offended. Being treated like an animal although humans are animals. My interest is in biology. I like to study life pretty ironic huh? For a person who comes from dead monster heritage.

It comes from my father actually or dad. He was my dad, I do not like talking or thinking about him too much because he is not here. In some indigenous cultures people do not speak a dead person's name because they are not here anymore. It makes sense to me and yet I can't help but look outside my misty window and see the forest beyond. He is in the dead forest.

I feel my cheeks blush when I think about where I have just been, no Hazel don't let mother see not yet, you are too young, too young and she is too old. Too and old and too…

"How are you feeling today?" my mother's rich smooth voice breaks through my useless thoughts.

I have no answer I am having trouble with my feelings it is as if they are flooding into me at once. My inner bird is trilling and flapping with trapped agitation. This is too much it is all too much. I guess my mother saw something on my face because once more I am being pulled into her warm embrace.

I hate this…I hate being alive…I hate feeling.

I nuzzle my nose into her shirt her calming scent of lavender and musty books surround me. "Would you like to go in the garden?" she asks, as if I am a small child.

I shake my head as if I am small child. I hate this I hate being soft and needy.

"No, I think that I am just going to draw or read," I reply.

"Would you like something to eat?" she prods. She is being so motherly and yet my insides feel like a spider web sticky and twisted.

"Not right now maybe later."

"What about a hot chocolate," she says with a grin I almost moan with pleasure.

I feel my lips upturn into a grin that feels so strange on my face, "With a peanut butter and raspberry sandwich?"

"Done," she says giving my small warm hand a squeeze.

She leaves my room and I return to my floor length antique mirror and I stare at my reflection I stare at my round burgundy eyes and I stare at my angular cheek bones that remind me of royalty. I look at my straight nose and I tilt it up. I look at my pale ears on the side of my head that are not too big, and the last thing that I look at are my peaked pink lips that were dreamily kissed.

I almost gag at the tide of knowingness within me. "Three years," my lips beg. "Please I will be ready in three years." The demon inside of me battles against my ribbed cage once more before returning to a bottomless pit of darkness in my being.

"Three years, three years, three years," my lips mutter as I bite into the crispy sandwich and my white teeth are tinted red.