Perfect People

Alexandra's Point of View

"How are feeling?" Esme asked as I stepped through the door of the Cullen mansion.

"Better," I said. I had intended to make my voice sound more stable to prevent her worrying about me, instead it came out as a rough hoarse whisper barely able to be made out over the sound of Uncle Emmett making my presence. He leaned down to embrace in a bear hug but Grandpa Carlisle made a disapproving face and shook his head solemnly.

"Not while she's still recovering, Emmett you might hurt her. She isn't strong enough to heal herself, just let her be for a while." Carlisle warned. Instead of actually hugging me he made a hugging motion in the air around me. I couldn't fit my arms around him anyway so I did the same. "Come on Alex let's get you settled into your room. I had Alice set it up like yours at home because you'll probably be here a while she went and got you some new clothes because Jacob destroyed all of your stuff except for everything in the attic we can't go in any get any of it though until the cops go through and 'investigate'. Is there anything in particular you might need?" He asked. I didn't need to read his mind to know what he was talking about. I knew how dangerous 'that' could be in a houseful of vampires. Fortunately it had passed for this month and they are never that long that I should have to worry about it. I shook my head 'no'.

Emmett carried me (practically) up the stairs and lead me to my room. There I was met by Nick, Alice, Rosalie, and Jasper. I looked at Nick, it was obvious he was happy to see me, but yet again the look on his face gave me the impression that his body was there but his mind was somewhere else trying incredibly hard to access some sort of thought that was there in his distant mind. Rosalie approached me first. At that I was surprised, everyone had told me that my Aunt Rosalie would probably detest me. No one would tell me why so that I could avoid offence and punishment. Instead of despising me she had the same look on her face as my mom did when she found out was alive. Everyone gasped when Rosalie gently wrapped her arms around me in a loving almost welcome home embrace. I could tell everyone was wrong and that Rosalie and I would get along. Her movements were slow and gentle, I knew she had heard Grandpa Carlisle telling Emmett to be gentle Rosalie was being more than gentle though, she was being tender. Alice took her turn next it wasn't like Rosalie it was all Alice, hyper and bouncy and a little pushy but gentle all the same. Jasper hugged me next a smile on his face. These next few weeks were going to be interesting.

Alice and Rosalie stayed with me that night. We sat up and talked. Then we began going through the things the cops brought by from the attic that evening. They also interrogated me and then having been satisfied with all my answers they left. We had opened all the boxes and looked at lots of pictures and things of when I grew up. I was going through a box of old notebooks when I found it, it was my old journal full of the vampire stories that my mom used to tell me. I showed Alice and Rosalie. Halfway through the journal Alice and Rosalie both began laughing then both turned serious. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Alexandra where did all these stories come from?" Alice asked. As Rosalie read on.

"My mom and Jacob used to tell them to me. Some of them I actually dreamed of oddly enough. Why?" I said.

"Because, Alex most of these have to do with our family. And Jacob's pack. These are all real things that happened involving us. Alexandra did you know about us?" I shook my head.

"They used to tell me those stories because I liked them better than fairy tales. I was a lot different from other kids. No one understood. My mom used to tell me those things to make me happy. She would sing to me as well. There was one song I really liked I have no idea where it came from but I have it on cd. She would hum it to me every night. Eventually from hearing it enough times I can play it on the piano. I always for some reason associated the song with the stories. They just seemed to fit together. Like my mom and real dad. I only have one picture of him and mom when they were younger." I motioned for the book and opened it to the back cover, inside I had tape a photo of my parents from my moms 18th birthday. Both my aunts smiled.

"Alexandra, the song you said you liked could you play it for us? We have a piano downstairs for your dad, he writes music. I was wondering if we could hear the song?" I nodded. As we walked down the stairs I turned to my Aunt Rosalie.

"Auntie Rosalie, my dad writes music and plays the piano? Does he like art like painting and stuff?" She nodded.

"He likes writing and playing music, painting and sculpting, baseball, and talking about your mother" She laughed. I laughed too and Alice joined me.

"Wow, me and my dad have so much in common." I laughed.

"Yeah. You're like a miniature female version of him." Aunt Alice laughed. "I am glad you're part of our family." She smiled.

"I am too. I always wished those stories were real. Now that they are everything feels so right." I smiled sitting down at the piano bench. I lifted the lid that was over the keys. And warmed up a bit. I quickly began to feel each silvery note as it sprung from beneath the keys. Soon the whole room was filled with quick and unmistakeable sound of the beautiful song. The notes were clear and the rhythm was easy. I had played the song hundreds of times on the piano. Each time I was focused intent on letting the world know the song and how great of a piece could truly exist. The rare beauty that existed in this song was a mystery. The composers name I didn't know. I finished the piece and looked up to see my family staring at me a strange look in their eyes.

"Alexandra where did you learn that song?" Esme asked misty eyed.

"I taught myself how to play it my mother used to hum it to me or when something was bugging her." I answered. "Do you know who wrote it? It's my favourite piece I would really like to know."

"Alexandra, your dad wrote that. It was for your mother. He played it for her the first time he brought her to meet us. That's his favourite too." She smiled lovingly. If she could cry tears of joy would be gushing down her face. She quietly walked over and cradled me in her arms. "Alexandra how could there be a more perfect person?"