Hello strangers!

This story is about one of my Glee Oc's being reborn as Bella's twin sister… It's a little odd, I suppose, since I haven't even written anything for this Oc to exist but I always did like the idea of her so I ended up writing this instead. Oc doesn't know about the Twilight story (even though it does exist in Glee), I'm also going to do my best to write this in a way that you won't miss not knowing the entirety of her past life.

I do feel it necessary to warn you all for some depressing topics that might arise later on in the story. If it comes up, I'll be sure to note it up here in the 'preview' of the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Glee. The Twilight sage belongs to Stephanie Meyer and Glee belongs to Disney as of 2019.

Happy reading!

Chapter 1. What a young girl shouldn't know.

Not yet.

That was the first thing that she thought when she realized what had happened.

Not yet. She hadn't been ready to die yet. Hadn't had enough time with her loved ones. Hadn't had enough time to do what she needed to do.

Death had snuck up on her. She hadn't been able to prepare for it like she always imagined herself doing. Hadn't been able to do her rituals. Hadn't been able to take matter into her own hands. She had always hated being out of control- it's why she insisted on been rigorous with her words and actions. Her thoughts, of course, were an entirely different matter but she'd been learning. Her mind had always been her worst enemy growing up. The mess of chemicals her brain released sabotage her- but time had been kind on her.

She wondered if it would have been less painful for her to have died by her own hands. She hated how she hadn't been able to breathe right- how every intake of air pained her. How she had been inside of an overcrowded hospital- surrounded only by indifferent strangers. She remembered how she yearned for warmth and didn't care in the slightest if that came in the form of a hot bath or a hand to hold.

The worst part about it all was that she didn't even get the chance to feel numb. She didn't want the weak feeling in her limbs as her muscles slowly deteriorated. She didn't want the splitting headache that bloomed whenever she dared to open her eyes. Nor did she want the nausea that made the room spin unsteadily on its axes.

She wasn't aware of when it happened. She just knew that she wasn't ready for it.

Not yet! She hadn't had the time to hug her aunty in months-

Not yet! She promised them that she'd be there for the opening night. She'd already prepared a congratulatory gift for them and everything. She needed to see them shine one last time-

Not yet! She hadn't seen her little starfire grow up yet-

An infant's cry rang into her ears- sharp and shrill. She winced at the volume and let out a low groan, there was little more she could do to express her objection to the noise. Her unpracticed tongue still felt heavy in her mouth and the weakness in her body, that kept her from moving the way she needed herself to, remain despite the fact that she wasn't in her sickly body anymore. She'd been reborn into a new life- a situation, she unhappily recalled, that her aunty had tried to prepare her for. But she never listened. She didn't want her existence to be unending- not even if it came in phases. She wanted to be with her loved ones. She wanted to remain with them- never having to say goodbye. Or if nothing else, to be able to look over them even if she couldn't do that in person.

Someone- one of her new 'parents' she was sure- creeped into the nursery and leaned over the cradle. Charlie- her new 'father'- spoke soothing words as he gently picked up the crying baby next to her and moved ever so slowly to sit down in the nearby rocking chair. Isabella was the name of her new 'older' sister- they were a set of twins but wasn't entirely sure if that was identical or fraternal. She didn't care either way.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been a baby- but she was sure that she would have hated it just as much back then as she did right now. There wasn't anything for her to do to keep her mind occupied- she couldn't even sit up on her own strength without risking some serious spinal injuries. Her head was still too heavy for her neck to support. Her general coordination sucked also and she had no control whatsoever over her bowel movement. Not a day went by where she didn't feel disgusted with herself for her incompetence- and for being entirely too unsanitary.

She had little to nothing to distract herself from her grief… Nothing but observe her new 'family'- but that could only keep her occupied for so long. The nights were especially hard- when there was nothing but little Isabella dozing off next to her to keep her company. Her presence helped about as much as it made her hurt so much worse- Isabella reminded her a little too much of her Izzy to be a comfort. She reasoned that that was only because Isabella was still a baby- they didn't share any further explicit features.

One day, she hoped miserably, that she would be able to see Isabella and not think of her daughter. The thought of it alone made a painfully lurch at her heart.

Isabella wasn't her daughter.

Comparing the two would be unfair to both.

She reminded herself of this every single night before she allowed herself to slip into a dreamless sleep. She didn't want to feel attached to Isabella in that way- she wouldn't allow herself to try and fool herself into replacing someone irreplaceable just to feel a momentary sense of comfort. These people- her new sister, Charlie and Renée, her new mother- they were her family but not her family. There was no replacing what she'd lost. And she hated to think that she was essentially misleading these people. She was not their daughter. At least, not in the way they needed her to be.

The crying had long since reduced in volume- the noises having turned from piercing wails into soft mumbling. Charlie reappeared, gently placing his eldest daughter back into the crib. He patted down Isabella's rebellious locks with a small smile and then turned to his other daughter.

"Worried about your sister?" he asked her softly, his warm brown eyes seemingly growing fonder. "It's alright, Annie dear. All is well."

Not yet. She told herself tiresomely.

"You can go to sleep now."

Not yet. But she was sure that one day she might feel different about that.

I hope you guys so far liked it!