Three.

Florence.

The city of Homer was a small port town, nestled on the edge of Alaska's Kenai Peninsula, south of Anchor Point. From the one brochure I had purchased and skimmed on the flight, Homer was similar to any other quaint, small coastal town, with a regular forecast of heavy clouds and drizzle.

Perfect for the Cullens, I assume.

The filmy-thin pages revealed scenic photographs; The town harbor, small and large boats docked and bobbing in the water, a orderly spot for the local fisherman; An aerial photograph of the Homer Spit- a long strip of land that clustered the shops, art galleries, seafood restaurants and beaches; Pioneer Avenue, which holds Pratt Museum, home of local art and artefacts; Plentiful images of the marine and wildlife conservations and exhibits. Homer, well in fact felt like a home.

"We're just coming up to Lake Street, Ma'am. You gotta Airbnb booked somewhere?"

I meet the driver's gaze in the rear-view mirror, glancing away to the passenger window- we're here.

"Um, no. That's okay, thanks. You can drop me off anywhere here."

The car turns right, and I read the sign, Lake Street.

"You sure?" The cab pulls to the curb, and I eye the McDonald's a few paces back. My stomach grumbles; I'm so hungry.

"Yeah, here's perfectly fine. I'll find my way." Smiling, I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab my messenger bag. The cab driver rotates in his seat, his eyes drooping downward, sheepish, averting his stare to the meter.

"That'll be-."

Before he can finish, I fish out a fifty and two twenties, sifting them with my icy fingers through the envelope sized gap in the plastic shield. I need to hurry.

He stutters in shock and awkwardly jumps out of the vehicle, opening my passenger door with an askew grin.

"I'll quickly grab your things."

I follow him to the trunk, and gratefully reclaim my luggage, hauling it behind me as I step onto the sidewalk.

"Thanks for the journey." I nod as he walks back to the driver's side, and begins to light a cigarette.

"Oh, no problem, Ma'am. Enjoy your stay."

Watching the cab reverse and drive off, the fact that I have arrived seeps into my consciousness.

Oh god.

The anxiety and unease I felt earlier oozes into my frozen frame, and I pause a breath. What now? I hadn't thought that deeply into what I'd do once I arrive in Homer, but rather that I'd find the Cullen home. I feel dense. I have no idea where I am going, and I don't even know if Alice has seen my arrival, alerted the others; what if they think I'm a threat?

Oh god, a whole coven of vampires- what am I thinking?

I drop my baggage to the ground with a thud and palm my skull. Migraines were definitely not unusual in my case, although the searing throbbing I feel worries me. Did I pack Paracetamol?

I take a small step backward and rub my forehead, pivoting towards the direction of the sudden breeze. Maybe that'll clear my head?

As I inhale the crisp air, it happens simultaneously;

I am blind, I can't react. My vision; Alice.

"She's here, I see her. Finally." Her pale, pixie face is radiating, stunningly, warm.

A hard, hot wall pummels into me. Not a wall- a man? I spy a brown, russet arm jarring back and a grey t-shirt, before the white haziness of my vision bleeds my sight, a vision.

"God, I'm sorry, you moved so quickly I didn't see- hey, are you okay?" A hand, I assume, as hot as the sun, filters through the layers of my shoulder.

The vision stops as abruptly as it has started, and everything bleeds to black.


Thank you so much for reading!

If you have enjoyed the journey so far, please leave a like and a review!

Much love,

Kyla.