I do NOT own Twilight. Though my writing is so good it may fool you. JOKEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. It was lame but oh well. WHO CARES? Sorry, I can get a bit obsessed with writing my little A/N, especially when i don't want to do maths revision. ANYWAY, enough about my life - if i did write more on me you would probably die of boredom. For instance, a little unkown fact (not even on my profile - wow!) is that.....................my favourite shop is JACK WILLS. but i think that jack wills is only in britain, cos the slogan is very, liek, britsih. well, since you are asking it is 'FABULOUSLY BRITISH.' i am not joking. but thats not why i like the shop, the bad thing is that it is v v expensive. AND, also, I was wondering if in ye land o' america you use the term 'chav' could someone tell me?

Anyway, back to Edward Cullen. Sorry i mean Mason. I must have made that mistake about 1 million times whilst writing this :)

I trudged up the steep, steep hill to get to school. I sighed, my breath freezing in the air, lingering in front of me, and spiralling up and up, until I could not see it any longer. I wrapped my hands around my chest, hoping to warm them up as I was icy cold. I was only at the church, though it felt like I had walked miles, and I was just in time to hear the church bells chime. 7 o'clock. I continued to make my way to school, which seemed pointless, as I would be walking down the hill again very soon.

"Edward." I heard someone smile. I turned around and Penelope Greenwater was behind me, grinning like it as Christmas.

"Hi, Penny." I said, turning back and walking, she ran forward and was soon matching her stride to mine.

"Oh look, the church? Are you Christian?" She said, hopelessly making small talk. What was she talking about? Hardly anyone wasn't Christian.

"Yup. You?" I mumbled, not feeling the urge to keep up a conversation.

"Yeah. But, I don't really know much about Christianity." I looked at her blankly. She came to church with my family and me every, single Sunday. We learnt all about the Bible stories, Jesus, there was nothing that we weren't taught.

"I mean, if you are a proper Christian, like you, does that mean you can't do it until you're married?" I continued to stare at her. What was she talking about? Was this her mournful attempt to chat me up? How pathetic. I was not impressed.

"I don't know. Ask Father Daniel." I spat through my teeth.

"You know the adults don't think we know about it." Oh for Pete's Sake! Would she not give up?!

"Come on, we're going to be late." I muttered, moving my legs quicker, it was only fast walking for me, but Penny had to jog to keep up.

"So?" She protruded, I looked at her, but she just smiled and giggled. I glared at her but she continued to stare into my eyes. Argh!

"I'm going to be a priest when I grow up." I said, perfect way to dodge answering the question. Penny was so surprised she forgot to keep walking; finally I was rid of that girl.

When I got to school it wasn't much better, the choir were practicing, and I took my place at the piano, whilst all the girls stared at me. I didn't understand what was wrong with them. Was it because I was new? I was clueless.

"Right, some of you may have heard the grave news." Our teacher, wearing a sticker saying Mr Green said, clutching his hands together.

"Sir, I think my mother wants me to be evacuated." I said quietly, everyone turned to look at me, and then, surprisingly, giggles arose.

"Mason, is it?" I nodded, "it is all going to be over by Christmas!" He smiled, whilst pushing his thick-framed glasses up his nose. I sighed, I hadn't been told that.

"I think my mother…" I trailed off, feeling everyone's eyes on me again.

"Mason, dear boy, you will be quite alright telling your mother tonight when you get home from school." He grinned again, and I blushed whilst everyone stared at me. I'm not sure why I did, but at least it made my skin hotter. My face must have been icily pale.

So, against my mother's strict orders, I continued to have a typical day at Thomas Cathedral School. I must say, it was an enjoyable time. Everyone seemed to like me, and I liked them back, except for Penny Greenwater.

"So, do you want to go out sometime?" A girl called Mary asked me at luch time, whilst we were all collecting our lunches. I blushed a beet-root red.

"Sorry." I mumbled, taking a glass of milk from the cook.

"Don't worry." She said, blushing also, and leaving the counter, though she had no food on her tray.

I don't know why I said no. It was something I always did when random strangers asked me to go on a date with them. It may sound odd for a fourteen-year-old boy, but I wanted to meet that special girl, 'the one' they called it mostly, and then I would spend the rest of my life with her, with a daughter and a son, we would live in America. They say that America is the free country. You can do whatever you like there, be whoever you like. That's what I want. Corny, but true.

"Mason." Mr Green interrupted my thoughts just like that.

"Yes, sir." I answered immediately, looking up.

"Mrs Parch would like to see you in the office." The office? Why? What had I done?

A twisting feeling developed in my stomach as I rose from my seat, and headed out of my new form room. As I shuffled into the office Mrs Parch looked grave. Her old, palid face was twisted into a grimace as I sat in the seat opposite her, and she looked as if she were about to cry.

"Edward." She whispered, her voice hoarse. I panicked, she called me by my first name, he was about to cry. I could tell she was going to say something awful, maybe a death, and accident. I concentrated hard on her withered face and tried to clue it all together. Why wasn't she telling me? It had to be someone close who had died, who was hurt, otherwise the school wouldn't be told.

"Tell me." I whispered through gritted teeth.

"Your mother." She whispered, tears making her eyes turn even glassier.

"Yes?" I said, impatient.

"She, she, she was walking to get you." She murmured. And then I knew it. I could tell, it was obvious. She was walking to Thomas' Cathedral School, to get me because I hadn't come home. Something had hurt her, maybe a carriage crushed her, a knife to the heart, maybe highwaymen.

"Tell me!" I yelled, clasping my head with my sweaty hands.

"Someone was in their carriage." She murmured, Why was she making this so painful, so hard? Why couldn't she just say?

"The wheel. It fell off." She continued, watching my face, but I didn't do anything.

"It spun off the road, onto the pavement. Jane, err, Mrs Mason, she was walking on the pavement. It hit her. It hit her hard. Her, her, body, it was crushed. She was hurt." She said, why was she repeating herself? But, maybe just a few cuts and bruises, maybe she was okay. I knew this wasn't true.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. She didn't even know my mother! She didn't even know her! How could she be sorry?

"Then what?" I asked, my voice was like a hoarse croak.

"Some good Samaritans. They stopped, wanted to take her to get help. But, she wanted to be taken to the church." The church. If only I had gone inside, to pray. Why didn't I go to church? I call myself a Christian and I walk straight by a holy place!

"I don't know anymore." She finished, watching as I threw my hand up, so it was covering my eyes. I sat motionless. Everything was quiet.

"Edward? Edward?" Mrs Parch said, getting anxious. Well, not as anxious as my mother was, until she got crushed!

"Why did she go to church?" I said, though there was only one reason anyone went to church. To pray.

"Edward, I don't know anymore. Except the Samaritans names. But I am not at liberty to tell you them." She said, her voice shaky as I uncovered my face to reveal my burning eyes, fiery and cold at the same time.

"Tell me." I whispered, my voice low and level, though it was a lot of work to keep it that way. She shook her head. "Tell me!" I yelled, getting angrier and angrier.

"I can't." She whispered, a hot tear rolling down her bony cheek.

"Tell me! Dammit!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. As if shouting will help mum used to say. Used to!

"One of them was called Mark Baker." She muttered quickly. I stood up, knowing that I would find this Mark Baker. I don't even know why I needed to.

The idea of the mums death was from:

Wannabeemokid13

So thank you!

And, thanks for reading,

Milly, x.