It doesn't start here.
Two college students staring down the barrel of a gun in a small convenient store, metal gleaming from the fluorescent lights above.
But it doesn't start here. It never started here.
It starts the first time Bella Swan almost dies.
The first time, she's seventeen and is pulled into a game of cat and mouse that is wholly unfair.
Strangers show up uninvited to a game of baseball in a storm and a monster fixates his gluttony on her. And suddenly she's running for her life.
She never would have had a chance if it wasn't for her boyfriend and his family, if she wasn't told it would be best to put her life in the hands of monsters in disguise.
It happens in a rush; she's whisked away and driven out of state, the others trying to throw the hunter off her tracks. It only gives them so much time until he strikes for her weak spot. Her father.
The second time, she's two day shy of her twenty second birthday and out with her best friend after being stood up on a date.
A night of comedy movies and wine turns into a craving for the only ice cream not in the freezer.
"Please, please, please. I'll do your essay for Richard's class."
Alex shakes her head with a chuckle. "Okay, okay but I'm driving because I do not trust you behind the wheel right now."
They should have stayed home.
The first time, she sneaks away and goes back, anger fueling her because she left to keep her father safe.
She left because they said he would be safe. That he would be protected, and yet the hunter has taken him as bait.
She doesn't think about anything but getting there in time, making sure he's okay. She needs to know that she hadn't lost him and she steals a car and heads back to the mouth of the beast.
The thing she should have realized though was that the hunter is a natural liar. He played on her empathy and guilt for leaving out of the blue with a slammed door behind her.
Her father was never in harm's way. But that's not true for her as she walks into a house that is empty and lacking life, the shadows dancing around as moonlight slips through glass windows.
He's a predator through and through as he toys with her, taunts her, and whispers in her ear that fear will make her taste sweeter. And then he bites, lungs with teeth and eyes that haunt her dreams for years to come.
It would be a lie to say she didn't scream, that she didn't try with all her might to get away. But the sharp teeth tearing through the soft flesh at the junction where her shoulder and neck meet in union trap her in burning fire and fear alike.
The last thing she remembers is the sound of shattering glass and a crazed animal before everything fades away and there is no burning fire and screaming pain. There is nothing.
The second time, the man is no liar and his eyes are as dark as the sea on a moonless night, a crazed fog clouding the realization that actions have consequences.
He's frantic. Pointing the gun at the two of them with jabbing motions like he wants to stab them. He's yelling and swearing as he jerks to the wide eyed cashier behind the counter, a demand on his tongue.
"Give me the money! Everything you have, every single penny!"
She's stupid with fear and pushes Alex back to try and slip away with the distraction until he whirls around in a rage, the gun pointed right at her and the grip on her arm tightening enough that she thinks she might lose circulation. The robber growls out the words. "Don't even think about it." And she swears her heart refuses the next beat.
The first time, she wakes up to a headache and white walls.
She's in a hospital and her father is sitting in the seat next to her bed and relief floods through her, unlike the morphine drip that seeps into her nerves, dulling the pain and tightness of her muscles if she moves too suddenly.
She cries at the sheer amazement that she is alive, that her father is alive. That somehow despite everything the storm has seemed to pass.
It's not until later that she notices the person sitting on her other side has played a part in her still being here. It's not her boyfriend and when she asks where he is, a growl that seems to sink into her bones is the response.
An embarrassed apology comes moments later and she knows better than to ask again.
The second time, she screams when the gun goes off.
When the lights flicker and suddenly the robber is no longer standing in front of her. She turns in sheer panicked realization that she's alone. Alex is nowhere in sight.
And suddenly the silence is shattered by a different scream, one full of terror and agony that it makes her skin crawl and her breath halt. She doesn't move, she can't.
She hasn't felt like this since the last time she was staring death in the face, its wicked eyes gleaming red.
When it tapers off and dies into silence her heart has doubled its beats and she may be hyperventilating because her ribs ache in the worst way possible and she wants to hurl the pasta that was for dinner.
The first time, her boyfriend breaks up with her and leaves like he couldn't get away fast enough.
He didn't leave alone either, his entire family followed his tracks. The family who took her into their arms and told her their secrets. The ones who pulled her into their world while keeping her at arm's length. They left her with the knowledge that there was more than what meets the eye. They left her to wear the scars of their kind while they vanished from her life.
"It's for the best." He told her and she couldn't help but notice his dark eyes lingering on the maroon scarf that's wrapped around her neck, a curtain of fabric to hide the physical trauma from a wound still too raw. "You'll be better off. You don't belong in our world."
He leaves her alone in the school parking lot in the time it takes her to blink. The ringing of the tardy bell reminding her that she'll be late for her first class of the day, that she will be walking through those doors alone.
The second time, she's face to face with a stranger who wears the face of her best friend.
Bella feels faint.
Instead of warm chocolate that she's used to looking into, Alex's eyes are an electric moonstone blue that makes it impossible to look away. Her clothes disheveled and it looks like her lipstick is smeared over the lower half of her face, god she hopes that's all it is. Even when Bella has the sneaky feeling that her wishful thinking is wrong. Something deep in her bones warns her that a predator stands in front of her.
Her eyes seem to be staring into Bella's soul because the sharpness of electric blue pins her in place and suddenly she can't breathe, she can't think past shit shit shit I'm going to die before my birthday aren't I?
After seconds that feel like drawn out minutes, the ice of blue fades softer and she can see traces of her roommate standing in front of her but Bella refuses to move, refusing the whispers of relief at the recognition.
"This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this." The words are deathly calm and if Bella could catch her breath she'd laugh at the situation she's found herself in. And maybe she's hallucinating or has actually passed out because she swears Alex has fangs, sharp pointy fangs.
A shift of a boot that causes Alex to take a step forward brings the chill of the night air crashing into Bella's lungs in sheer panic as she scrambles away on unsteady legs. "What are you doing!?"
"Bella, you need to calm down." The words are laced with a soft warning and everything in her begs her to listen but adrenaline is too high and the sting of betrayal she can't quite place is burning hot.
"What are you?" Her back meets the painted white wall right next to the soda aisle as she dares to know the truth.
The first time, she doesn't dare ask questions that will have no answers.
And when days turn into weeks, and weeks into months she nurses her wounds and ignores the dreams at night.
She helps her father cut down the tree that always taps her window when the wind picks up, and learns how to make lasagna when her hands itch for a new hobby.
The purple walls of her bedroom change colors three times in the months before the new year and she visits her childhood friend enough to catch up on the mechanics of motor vehicles.
She learns how to ride a motorcycle by her birthday and buys handfuls of scarves that sit in her closet waiting for their turn in the week. The directions to the abandoned house in the forest become lost in her mind.
"Where do you want to go to college?"
Her father suggests out of state and she has to think it over for a few weeks before deciding to give in to his wishes. "I don't want you stuck here. Go out and live for yourself kiddo. Your old man will be fine."
The second time, the word, "Vampire." has to be repeated for her to even register that it seems so out of place.
The truth that she refuses to accept because she's seen vampires before. She's known vampires before, and how can her best friend be like them? She's nothing like them.
But somehow, the horror movies and books that always showed up around Halloween like clockwork rears up and persist that this is much closer to legends than the monsters that occupied almost a year of her life.
She feels faint, and her skin aches under the black scarf that hides her scars.
"Bella, Bella. Look at me." She blinks against the blur of tears she doesn't remember crying as she listens to the slight panic in Alex's voice. And she wants to ask her why she lied but a pained gasp escapes before the words could when something presses against the fabric of her jacket.
Eyes that shine like the moon look back at her, and maybe she's surprised at how beautiful she finds them or maybe she's losing her mind because the words, "You're bleeding. He shot you." repeat in her mind like a broken record.
But Bella wasn't shot, she doesn't remember being shot. She didn't feel anything. So Alex can't be right, right?
Her hands feel clammy against the tile floor and she lowers her gaze to see the floor far closer than it was moments ago. When did she sit down? Why is the floor so dirty?
She hisses when hands push against her soaked jacket, adding pressure to a bullet wound that wont stop bleeding. She can smell the faint scent of Alex's shampoo, citrus and cucumber.
"You're gonna be okay." The words keep repeating. Over and over, and over some more.
Until she feels the chill of the night air kissing the skin of her neck followed by a whisper of warmth.
Darkness lulls her to sleep with the promise of nothing but peace.