A/N:Thanks to those of you who reviewed the prologue.I really appreciate it.This chapter only took me a few hours to write because I was so excited by the reviews I got! This chapter might be a little boring because it focuses more on Elizabeth's thoughts and not her actions or conversations. She'll also probably be a little, okay...way smarter than your average 6-year old girl. But remember, she's special. In more ways than just one. The mystery is only beginning, after all. Enough of this author's note, on to the story! Review if you want. - MissMei92

THE TALE OF ELIZABETH CULLEN

7 years later.

Elizabeth Cullen is 6 years old.

She doesn't know who or what she really is.

In her mind, she's just a little girl who lives with her mom and dad. And 6 other aunts and uncles. Although she may be more mature than other children her age, she has yet to find out how bizarrely different she is from everyone else, in more ways than one.

The outside world is zooming past me so fast. So fast that I don't see anything. But I'm not looking at it, anyway. I'm more focused on the amusing scene inside my uncle Carlisle's car. Aunt Alice just told Uncle Jasper that Uncle Emmett put itching powder on his shirt last Thursday, and that's why he was scratching so much. I had to stop myself from laughing before everyone else did because then I know my mom would become super-talkative about how I should behave.

But it was really hard not to, because uncle Jasper's face suddenly turned from being pale white to red to pulsing purple. He started talking really, really fast. And then, my uncle Emmett started laughing super-loud. My dad did too. Suddenly, everyone was talking so fast and laughing so hard, but I didn't hear anything, as usual. My mom says it's because I'm still little but sometimes I get frustrated not being able to listen in on what my family's talking about.

My aunt Alice must have noticed, because she stopped talking to ask me, "Elizabeth, what do you want to do when we get to New York?" Her golden eyes sparkled as she said it. My aunt Alice, and everyone else in my family, all had honey-gold eyes and fair skin. I often looked in the mirror and wondered why I didn't. My skin wasn't as fair as my mom or my dad's. I didn't have gold eyes. I had sky-blue ones. My hair was Asian-black and really wavy. I didn't look like my parents at all. My mom had such nice, straight brown hair while my dad had reddish-brown hair. Both of them had the special gold eyes. Which puzzled me sometimes, because don't kids normally resemble their parents? Even just a little bit? I wish I looked more like my parents.

I hadn't realized how pretty my parents were compared to other people, because up until last month, we'd lived in a French mansion, far away from 'civilization' as my aunt Esme says, which she normally says every time my uncles and my dad get into a fight. When I'd first seen anyone else outside of my family, I was disappointed, I guess. Other people are so…repulsive. I don't want to be mean but that's how I feel when I see them. They're all shapes and sizes, and some just aren't…well, pretty like my family is. But I know that I'm just like the other people. I'm ugly. Not pretty like my parents at all.

My aunt Alice looked at me expectantly, still waiting for her answer. I realized I'd wandered off on my own train of thought when I'd seen her eyes sparkle like that. I quickly mumbled, "I don't know," It was soft but I knew she'd hear it. My family was so perceptive to everything. "Oh, yeah. You've never been to the city before," She looked at me, her face suddenly lighting up as though someone flicked an 'ON' switch just then. "Of, course! I'll take you shopping for clothes. New York is practically the fashion capital," She looked thoughtful for a second and then said, "We can go tomorrow. I see a brand-new purple silk nightgown in your future." She laughed, and I saw my parents smiling knowingly at this. Uncle Jasper laughed too, his face having gone back to it's usual white-ness. I didn't know why but I felt like they'd all just shared some sort of inside joke. I sighed inwardly. There seemed to be a lot of limitations to being just a little kid.

Later...

New York was very…foreign. To me, I guess. To my family, it seemed like they'd seen exactly the same thing so many times before. Or rather, they'd been here before. More than once, I surmised. It was weird for me to suddenly see so many people, after all, considering where I'd lived for the past few years of my short life. I wasn't sure about why we'd moved here. My mom said it was because I was going to have to start school soon.

School. I'd only read about it in my storybooks but I knew I'd be seeing a lot of other children my age, soon enough. Which was scary in a strange way for me, due to the fact that I didn't realize how tongue-tied I can get when strangers speak to me. My uncle Carlisle told my mom that I'd be fine once I got used to being around large crowds and meeting new people. "It's just a side-effect of living in seclusion," he'd said. Wonder why we were living in seclusion in the first place, but I've always got too many wonderings to think about, and I never get any answers no matter how long I think it through. So I usually bear with the fact that you can't understand everything in this world, at least not while you're only 6 years old.

My parents said that we'd be living in a mansion here too. I didn't really know how that would be possible. Everything I'd seen so far was nothing but tall, ominous buildings. Really, I'd never seen so much metal and concrete in my life. I was so used to the forests, green meadows and rolling hills of the French countryside. But my parents were right. The dark, looming shadows of the city started to dissipate and we were soon driving into a place with large, uniquely-designed houses lined neatly in rows of two, all with green lawns and flowers growing in front of them. I figured that the term 'suburban' was appropriate to use for this place.

People here looked prettier than the ones in the airport and the ones who'd been on the airliner we'd sat in for 7 hours straight. The adults all seemed to be the perfect size and shape, wearing clothing I'd often seen my family wear. My aunt Rosalie called it 'designer labeled'. Their facial features also looked more uniformed and less random, i.e. most of them had the same sharp, pointed nose and sleek jawbone. One of the sunshine-blondes I saw smiled. Her teeth were a brilliant, glistening white. The children were all tall and slender, for their age it seemed, but still adorable. I felt like I'd stumbled into a world of perfection, even if it was a slightly different perfection from the one I was accustomed to. Perhaps this was why we were living here.

All the houses, I realized, looked just like mansions. The cars in the driveways were all expensive types too. I felt like smacking myself in the forehead! We were going to fit in here perfectly. I hadn't understood the concept that perhaps my family would be feeling a little awkward at having to live among other people. They would obviously choose to live among people who were, in a way, perfect like them, so they wouldn't feel that different. I was so slow at seeing the big picture sometimes.

The drive seemed to last longer than I'd expected it to. I kept thinking my dad would stop the car and say "We're here!" But we zoomed past most of the busy parts of that suburbia and headed for a quieter part. I hoped we wouldn't be living that far away from the city. I did feel somewhat excited at the prospect of attending school and meeting new people now, after the initial shock at the "differences" had worn off.

At last, the car stopped and everybody got out in less than a second. I was still the slowest. When I stepped out of the car, my eyes felt stinging from the change in the brightness of the surroundings. I'd been in the car for around 2 ½ hours and my eyes were still trying to adjust to the sudden change, since the car had tinted windows, making it extra dark. When my eyes finally stopped blurring, I could see how clearly nice my new home was going to be.

It would have been called breathtaking by someone who admires architecture but I found it to be simply: awesome. The house was surrounded by a high, white wall with a lawn as wide and as big as a baseball field lining the inside around the house. There were lots of rose, bougainvillea, and hibiscus flower shrubbery dotting the lawn in an almost-planned randomness. Some oak and maple trees seemed to have sprouted up on their own, and were situated mainly at the corners of the estate.

The wooden gate in front of us was half-open and aunt Rosalie was there, already hugging uncle Emmett. Aunt Rosalie had gone ahead of us 2 days earlier to help uncle Carlisle and aunt Esme unpack and furnish the house. But aunt Alice said she just wanted to be able to go shopping for another designer dress at Barney's. Apparently my mom agreed with her.

The house was a 3 storey-high one, with an attic. It was smaller in stature, if compared to our old house, but I thought it was similar enough in appearance. The garden was the best part and I squealed in delight when I saw the pink swing in the right-hand corner of the house, next to the barbecue porch. Plus, there was this huge swimming pool behind the house and a Japanese koi pond on the other side of the house. I wonder if that was aunt Esme's idea…

I was getting ahead of myself as, while my parents went upstairs, and aunt Alice and uncle Jasper went upstairs, and uncle Emmett and aunt Rosalie went upstairs, I ran to play on my swing. It was early evening and I was sure my dinner wouldn't be served 'till later so I thought stealing a few moments on the swing would be fine.I was swinging to and fro, letting the wind muss up hair while I shut my eyes closed to better enjoy the movement, when I heard my uncle Carlisle call me.

"Elizabeth?" He sounded amused at me. I opened my eyes. He was right in front of me. "Yes, uncle Carlisle? What is it?" I was still swinging but I'd slowed a bit. He smiled and walked over to help push my swing. I felt like I was flying when he pushed my swing. It had such a carefully-planned rhythm to it, that while it was a strong push, it was gentle at the same time. "Elizabeth, do you ever wonder about things?" He emphasized the word things so I knew what he was referring to. Uncle Carlisle knew I was smarter than I seemed, despite my young age. I looked at him, then at the trees overhead, which were rustling silently in the breeze. I answered back unsure, "I guess sometimes…but not really." That was an understatement. I spent every free second pondering questions to which I really had no answers to offer.

"Well, then I guess…you're not ready." Uncle Carlisle's eyes glinted in a teasing way. I stiffened. "What do you mean 'not ready'?" I asked him, slightly confused. "I'll ask you again, do you sometimes wonder about things?" He asked me, his expression still warm. "Okay…I do. A lot. About everything." I said, a bit brokenly. Uncle Carlisle seemed pleased by this. "Then I guess I can tell you. Answer me truthfully.

Have you…" he paused, "…ever seen your parents or any of us eat?" I was dumbstruck at his question. It hit me like a thunderbolt of lightning. I had never seen my parents eat. He noticed my expression and I knew he was wondering if he'd phrased the question wrongly, too blatantly. I stared back at him and answered, as calmly as I could, "No." I startled my uncle but he continued, "What about sleeping? I know you sleep the earliest but don't you wonder why you always seem to be the last one to wake, even that time, when you had a nightmare and you came downstairs at 5 in the morning. Everyone was wide awake when you came down," He awaited my answer.

I did remember that time. I'd been so scared by the dream that it didn't bother me that everyone was watching T.V. downstairs. Not sleeping. I gulped a bit at this. "No, I've never seen anyone else sleep. I was too scared by my dream to realize everyone was wide awake, that time." I looked at my uncle's face, unable to conceal the frightened look on my face.

"But, uncle Carlisle, don't people need to sleep? To eat?" I was pale by now and I could feel the blood draining from my face. My uncle shook his head, resignedly. "There's something about us, when I say us I mean your parents, as well. We're not really…," He struggled with the word, "…people." He tried to gauge my reaction. I was speechless for more than the usual instant. The swinging had stopped. The swing was still. So were the trees. The water in the pool was rippling slowly across it's surface. The world stood still for exactly that moment.

My uncle was worried. "Elizabeth." He said my name in an authoritative manner. "I looked at him, helplessly. "Elizabeth, we are still your family. No matter what. Nothing changes that. We still love you. You're Edward and Bella's daughter. Remember that. Always remember that. They love you more than anything. What I tell you now will not affect any of their love. It's incapable of doing so, because you are still Elizabeth Cullen. And you are still their daughter. Their only daughter." He gazed at me, before sinking down to my eye level, making direct eye contact. I looked into my uncle's gold eyes and I knew I could trust him. He felt the connection so he knew it was safe to continue, "You are human, Elizabeth. We are not. We are…vampires."