Disclaimer for all of my pages: I have never, or will ever claim the work of someone else as my own. The brilliant work of Stephanie Meyer is hers and hers alone. I just simply like playing with my Twilight dolls. :)

So here is the Prologue to:

The Memory Worker

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"Charlie, we need to talk." Renee said to Charlie. The couple was newly married with the one year old Bella as their only link between them. The child they shared was the only thread keeping the relationship together.

"What about?" Charlie replied in a gruff voice. He wasn't annoyed or anything, he was just at the climax of the murder mystery he was reading when Renee interupted him.

"I...I...can't stay here anymore. I...we...can't anymore. I am taking Bella and I am leaving, Charlie." Renee said clearly.

"What? Why? Is it the hours I work, because I can change that. Is it that we don't go out anymore? We can, I swear we can. Just tell me what I can do to fix this." He begged, moving from his chair to stand infront of Renee. Renee was resigned.

"There is nothing you can do Charlie. This has been planning in my head for a-a while now, and I can't stay in Forks any longer. I am sorry." She said darting up the stairs grabbing her suitcases and then loading them into the Silver Ford Altima, that they had leased together. Then returning into the house she packed up Bella's things and scurried down the stairs to load them to in the car. Charlie watched in horrid fascination.

Lastly, Renee went back upstairs to the little nursery, and picked up the sleeping child with brown hair and brown eyes and carried her to her car seat. Then she got in the car and drove away.

Charlie stood in the driveway long after the leaves had settled on the ground.

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Five years later...

"Mommy, look!" The sweet little child with brown hair and brown eyes called to her mother, as she jumpped into the pool with her floaties. Renee just nodded and smiled and the little girl knew that she had gained her mother's approval.

The little girl swam back and forth throught the pool and then went to have her mother dry her off with one of the big girl towels. Her mother was the prettiest mother a little girl could ask for, she was really tall and she had short blonde hair and blue eyes, she always wore blue or green and always wore cute shorts or skirts.

There was also another thing her mother always wore, and that was a lovely necklace. The necklace was strung on a string of twisted gold, and the caseing that the stone was set in was made of gold as well. The stone itself was a pale green color, that her mother addored. It had been her mothers, and her mother's grandmother's, and her grandmother's grandmother's. The necklace had been a wedding gift to Nina Fitzpatrick on her wedding day from her husband, when they got married in Ireland. The necklace had been through a lot.

The little girl with brown hair and brown eyes couldn't help but to be drawn to it. So as she walked to her mother to be dried off, she reached out and touched the necklace.

Visions of other people's lives passed before her eyes: pain, immeserible pain from the births of many children, hate at the plague that ran through Ireland, love, such confusing love for many men, and sometimes in ways that a child could never understand. More pain at feeling the deaths of twenty of more people, die too young. Visions of lover's passions, and of fights using words she couldn't understand, the feeling of being slapped by a man and being forced into a dark stable, hands touching places a six year old girl never even knew existed. Violation. And then peace, the peace of death.

Renee was freaking out.

"Bella? Bella! Oh, God, please wake up, I can't lose you to!" Renee yelled as she lightly slapped Bella across the face. Bella started to stir.

"Bella? Bella can you hear me? Mommy needs you to wake up." The little girl stirred in her arms.

"Mommy?" The little girl whispered and looked into her eyes. Renee started crying in what she saw in her daughter's eyes.

Confusion. Pain. Knowledge. Hatred. Love. Fear.

Things a little girl should never have to know.

The little girl started to cry, because somehow she knew, her life would never be the same.

What do you think? Should I keep it?

What's your favorite word? I just wan't to know.

-Isabella Rosalie

Next Chapter: Twenty Years Later