Faded (past tense):

(1) gradually grow faint and disappear.

(2) lose or cause to lose colour or brightness.

(3) (of a flower) lose freshness and wither.

(4) (of a racehorse, runner, etc.) lose strength and cease to perform well.

(5) (of a radio signal) gradually lose intensity.

I'd like to tell you that my sky's not blue, it's violent rain

And in my world, the people on the street don't know my name

In my world, I'm seven feet tall

And the boys always call, and the girls do too

Because in my world, I'm constantly, constantly havin' a breakthrough (hmm)

Or a breakdown, or a blackout

Would you make out with me underneath the shelter of the balcony?

- 'clementine' by Halsey

Chapter One: Rosalie

You could say that I was a little nervous to be moving to Washington to live with my estranged father.

You could say that, but you'd be lying, because in truth... I was terrified.

My mother was dead, my step-father hated me, my older brother had ran off to military school before my mother's funeral and hadn't spoken to me in two months... and now I was expected to live with a man I hadn't seen for thirteen years?!

Stepping out of the cab, I felt drizzle on my skin and noticed that Forks was upholding it's reputation for being the rainiest town in America. My stomach twisted in regret when I realised that two months ago, I would've been shrieking about the rain frizzing my hair and smearing my makeup, but now... now I couldn't even bring myself to care that my Gucci bag was probably ruined.

I was so far away from the girl I was two months ago. She cared about silly things like hair and makeup and designer brands, and frivolously spent hundreds of dollars on them every month, never realising that no-one cared whether you wore Armani or rags from the street once you were buried in your casket.

Call me morbid, but those sorts of thoughts had been preying on my mind almost incessantly recently. I guess watching your mother die can do that to you.

Whatever.

Victor didn't meet me in front of the Church like he said he wouldn't, but that was okay - I wasn't expecting him to, anyway. I didn't exactly have high expectations of a guy who walked out on his three-year-old daughter and heavily pregnant wife, never to be heard of again, so I had taken the trouble to purchase a map when I stopped in Seattle.

I set determinedly off towards Arlington Grove, steadfastly ignoring the rain and making silent promises to myself that I wouldn't mess this up. I had left Rochester a friendless, empty shell of the girl I used to be, with a reputation for being slightly crazy - a million miles away from the perfect, popular princess I was, always out partying and socialising.

The rain fell harder, streaking down my face in heavy rivers. My blonde hair hung in unattractive rat tails down my back and my clothes were soaked through. I knew I looked a sight. I had been walking for hours, and I was no closer to Victor's house. I just couldn't figure out that damn map!

A yellow Porsche drew up alongside me and my breathing hitched until the owner leaned out. She looked about my age, with a pretty, elfin face and unruly spikes of black hair.

"Hello," The girl said. "You look lost. Do you want a lift?"

I stared back blankly, exhausted from the core of my body to the tips of my toes. I hadn't eaten and I was hungry, wet and freezing cold. In truth, I'd have liked nothing more than to slip into the warm, snug interior of that beautiful Porsche, but I was terrified. I harboured a very rational fear of cars, and the taxi ride had been awful. I had trembled and shook so much that the concerned driver thought I was heading to Hell and actually offered to call the police for me, not knowing the Hell was the place he was driving away from.

Mortified didn't cover it. A grown, sixteen-year-old girl, afraid of cars...

Yep, that's me.

Ironically, my greatest joy was mechanics. My therapist in New York supposed that it was something to do with a guilt I held; she thought that I thought that if I had checked the car before we left, my mother and I wouldn't have been in a car accident and she wouldn't have died...

I personally thought that Elizabeth was talking shit. I took an irrational, masochistic pleasure in pulling a vehicle to pieces and putting it together, better than before, but therapists like to believe they're right, so I just shrugged and went along with it.

"Oh, sorry! I'm so rude! I'm Alice Cullen, by the way." The girl squeaked. She had a very high-pitched voice, but it wasn't unpleasant, surprisingly. Sort of... musical.

Weird.

"Rosalie Hale." I muttered, dragging the toe of my boot through a puddle and wincing at the cold water. "No, I'm fine, thank you."

She cocked her head, uncertain. "Really, it's no trouble. You'll freeze to death out here! I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

"That's what a murderer would say." I pointed out.

Alice gave a tinkling laugh. "Very true. But I won't." She pressed a dainty palm to her chest. "Honest."

"Mmm, I believe you. But I'm fine, thank you." I said, slightly irritated at that point.

It's not you I'm afraid of! I wanted to scream. It's that damn car you're driving!

Alice Cullen was so small and annoyingly friendly, that I doubted she could even swat a fly. But believe me when I say that the most unlikely people can hurt someone they love...

Can kill someone they love...

My breathing sped up pathetically. I turned away from Alice and her canary yellow car.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, twisting the flesh on my neck. "I have to go."

"Okay." Alice agreed softly. She looked uncertain before she drove away. "Stay safe, Rosalie. Perhaps I'll see you again."

Hours later, my trembling hands slipped the key Victor had mailed me into an unfamiliar front door.

"Hello?" I called. There was no reply and all the lights were off.

"Victor? I'm here!" I called again. Still, there was no reply.

I sob escaped my throat before I could stop it. I collapsed exhaustedly against the doorframe and slid to the floor, my hands in my hair.

God, I was pathetic.

I was sixteen years old and I couldn't even ride a taxi without falling to pieces. No wonder Victor left. No wonder I had no friends. No wonder my brother never talked to me and my stepfather kicked me out.

I scratched desperately at the flesh on my arms, hating every inch of my killer's body, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. I needed something more...

I was dripping scarlet by the time I was finished, wrapping a bandage around my arm so the blood wouldn't seep through my clothes. The pain had been quenched for a few minutes but it was back, it was always back...

Did I really think that I could run away from my pain?

Perhaps my mother's body was buried in Rochester, but her ghost had followed me to Forks.

At the Cullens's house...

"I met the strangest girl today." Alice declared, plopping next to her husband on the couch.

Jasper kissed her softly on the lips. "Good strange or weird strange?" He asked.

Alice shrugged. "Not bad strange... just sad strange. She had these big violet eyes and she kept chewing her lip; I don't think she even realised she was doing it, but the weirdest thing was..."

"You couldn't see her future?" Edward exclaimed, reading her mind. He raised an eyebrow and shivered. "If I could sleep, those violet eyes would haunt my nightmares."

"Maybe she, you know, died?" Emmett swallowed, lumbering into the room. "Maybe that's why you couldn't see her future... because she didn't have one."

Esme gasped, her golden eyes sad.

"I doubt it." Carlisle said calmly, folding his medical papers. "If this girl was going to die, you'd see how, Alice."

"Yes, I didn't see her death. Her future was just... absent. I think she's okay." The pixie-like girl decided.

Esme relaxed as she began knitting sweaters for the local homeless charity. She didn't like to think about anyone dying, but especially not young people. Edward was unconcerned. If humans died, they died. It was all part of a cycle to him. He was just glad that he didn't have to worry about Bella dying anymore. Carlisle obviously cared very much about human death, and so did Alice, but Emmett was different again. He didn't like it, but he didn't dwell on it, either. It was sad, but death happened. Still, he hoped the 'strange' girl was alive.

"So, do you wanna go for a hunt?" He asked Jasper. Jasper grinned and stood up. Jasper had been desensitized to death long, long ago, and he was unbothered by the girl's fate. If Alice was happy, then he was too.

Just as they were at the door, Emmett turned to his sister.

"Oh, and Alice?" He questioned.

"Yes?"

"What kind of human has violet eyes?"

Alice grinned. "Rosalie Hale, apparently."