"I'm going hunting," Jasper said emotionlessly when he finally emerged from his room. He ran out the door before any of us could respond.

"Oh dear," Esme moaned. "He's taking it much harder than I hoped he would."

"He doesn't have anyone to help cheer him up," I said softly. "Who is he supposed to turn to? He can just feel our sadness, so talking to us wouldn't help him."

"I hope he's better when he comes back," Esme said worriedly.

But he didn't come back. We knew when we smelled the smoke several hours later that Jasper had been the next victim.

But that didn't stop us from trying to find him anyway. We found his ashes in a clearing, still smoldering.

"Do you think he found them and asked to be killed?" Rosalie asked.

"No, there was a struggle," Emmett answered, pointing to some marks in the dirt. "These are fresh, which means that they must have grabbed him, he struggled, and they ended up winning in the end."

"We'll be gone in another week or two if they keep this up," Victoria said sadly.

"One of us will be next," Rosalie said sadly to Emmett. "We're the only couple they haven't split up yet."

"I wish I could go back in time," Victoria suddenly burst out. "I never would have insulted her if I knew this is what would happen!"

"We all make decisions, and all of our decisions have consequences," I told her. "It's unfortunate that your decision then had this effect, but it's unavoidable."

"If I hadn't made her mad, I'd still have James," Victoria said, "because we would not have come through Forks. You'd still have Edward. Carlisle and Jasper and Alice would all still be alive. Things would be different!"

"Things would be different," I agreed. "We wouldn't be friends. I could have died when someone else came to attack me. Anything could change, and not just the bad events. The good things could change too. So don't wish to change the past. You don't know how it will affect time."

"It's not even possible," Emmett pointed out.

"We're vampires," I pointed out. "Anything is possible."

"We should go back to the house," Esme sighed. "There's no point arguing here."

"I think I'm going to call my family when I get home," I said. "I want to make sure that they're okay and that nothing has happened to them."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Victoria asked. "Won't that lead them to your family?"

"I'm sure they already know exactly where my family is," I sighed. "They know everything else."

"Good point," Victoria said. "Never mind, then."

"Are you going to tell your family what's happening?" Rosalie asked.

"No," I said. "How am I supposed to explain all of these murders without causing them to call the police up here because we haven't? I'll just say that everything is going well."

"What if they ask to speak to someone?" Esme asked.

"They're at work," I answered.

"Good luck," Emmett told me.

"Thanks," I said, "I think I'll need it, if I'm going to make it through a whole conversation without going to pieces."

"You'll manage," Victoria said.

And with that we all ran back to the house.

"Hi mom," I said when she picked up.

"Bella!" She exclaimed happily. "How are you?"

"I'm great," I lied. "I started working at a small photography shop."

"I never will understand why you went into photography," she said, "but if that's what will make you happy, then I'm happy that you did. How's Edward doing?"

"He's doing great too," I lied, holding back the urge to break down. "He's working under Carlisle at the hospital."

"I'm proud of both of you," my mom said. "Have you heard from the rest of the family?"

"They're all good, too," I said. "We're all hanging in there. How are things with you?"

"Oh, they're fine," my mother said after a hesitation.

"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly realizing that something was wrong.

"There have been some strange people around here at night, that's all," she said dismissively. "Phil put an extra lock on the door, so we're fine."

"Don't talk to those people, okay?" I asked.

"We don't," she assured me. "They asked about you, at one point, and we stopped talking to them after that."

"What did they ask?" I inquired.

"Is your daughter a vampire?" she quoted, and then laughed. "I told them no, and to have a nice day. Vampires don't exist, and even if they did, then we would know if you were one."

"Sounds like they're pretty crazy," I agreed. "I'm sorry that they are there."

"Oh, it's not your fault, honey," my mother assured me. "They're just odd teenagers. They have the strangest eyes…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, their eyes are a bright red color, and it's really rather sinister looking, but I think that they just wear contacts. I mean, they have contacts like that, don't they?"

We talked for another two hours. I assured her that yes, there were red contacts, and yes, they were probably just some punk kids. After that we discussed anything and everything that we hadn't talked about in the past couple of months. She assured me that they were fine, other than not liking the people outside the house at night. I assured her that I was fine as well, and that I would call in a month or two to check in.

After we hung up I tried Charlie. He wanted to know if the Cullens had any family that could be in town, because there were some people that looked just like us, only they had red eyes instead of the lovely brownish eyes that we had. I said I didn't know, and that I would ask Carlisle when he got home from work. Charlie seemed okay with that, so we talked for a little bit longer, catching up on the small town gossip. He said Jake seemed pretty upset about something right after we moved, but that he seemed better now. I asked him to say hi to Jake for me.

Once the conversation with Charlie was over I tried Mark's cell phone.

"Bella!" Mark exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I've been better," I answered honestly. "How are you?"

"We're… okay," he said hesitantly.

"What's wrong?" I asked warily.

"I'll tell you later," he promised. "How's Edward? Is he treating you okay? I'll come try to kick his butt if he isn't."

"Nobody can kick his butt anymore," I said sadly. "That's why I've been better. We're having some issues here with another group of vampires and they… they…" I took a deep breath, and in my moment of silence Mark finished for me.

"They killed him," he said, immediately understanding. "I'm so sorry Bella. When did it happen?"

"About two weeks ago," I answered.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "Why did they kill him?"

I found myself telling him everything. I briefly retold the James story, then jumped to moving up to Alaska, starting at that part with arriving at the house. I told him about the condition the house was in, the message on the wall, nobody believing me for a week, and Victoria explaining what she had done. I talked about all the events up until three minutes before the phone call to him, talking about everyone's deaths, and then the conversations with my parents. The explanation took several hours, but Mark patiently listened to everything.

"I hope that's not your mom," Emmett joked as he passed me.

"It's Mark," I answered.

"Oh, good," Emmett said, "we're only telling him everything because he needs to know, right?"

"Leave me alone," I said, "It all just kind of came out."

"You're odd, Bella," Emmett told me.

"So are you, so leave me alone."

"Yep, ever the happy family," Mark joked from his end of the phone.

"Not exactly," I said.

"Ok, so are you sure that's all that's happened?" Mark asked once he knew my attention was back on him. "I mean, that's not quite enough to fill a novel yet."

"Ha ha," I said, "That's so funny. So original."

"I thought it was," he joked, and then became serious. "But really, is that it?"

"So far," I answered.

"Wow," he said. "Just… just wow."

"I know; it's hard to comprehend."

"So Edward, Carlisle, Alice, and Jasper are all dead, right?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," I answered.

"And you… wait, did I hear you say that you've gone goth on us?"

"No," I said impatiently, "I'm wearing black clothes."

"So you've gone goth," Mark concluded.

I groaned. "Mark, it's called mourning. Humans mourn in black, can't vampires do it too?"

"Not if you're wearing goth type clothing to mourn in!" Mark laughed, and then started singing, "Bella's gone goth, Bella's gone goth!"

"What?" I heard Angela say in the background.

"Our Dear Isabella Marie Cullen has gone gothic on us," Mark told her with a laugh.

"Yeah right," I heard Angela say.

"I'm serious!" Mark exclaimed. "She's wearing dark baggy clothes and black hoodies and she's got the negative outlook on life down to a pat. She's gone stereotypical goth on us!"

"I haven't died my hair black, pierced anything, or gotten anywhere near black eyeliner or nail polish," I informed him.

"Oh," he said, sounding disappointed. "Well, you're still close enough."

I groaned. "Mark, please, not today. If I'm still alive in a month or two, then you can tease me about it all you want."

"You say it like you aren't expecting to live through this," Mark commented.

"What?!" Angela asked, alarmed. "She can't die! She's immortal!"

"I'll explain once I've hung up with Bella," Mark told her.

"You'd better," she threatened him, "otherwise I'll have to call Bella back, and your parents can pay for that call too."

"Oh, I completely forgot about your phone bill," I groaned.

"Don't worry about it," Mark told me. "I still have that credit card Alice sent me for instances where you won't shut up. She told me to use it if the phone bill was huge."

"And it will be," I assured him.

"Trust me, I know it'll be huge when I have to plug my phone in while I'm still talking because it's dying, and I just charged it a few hours before."

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"Don't worry about it," Mark repeated. "Now, where were we before I remembered that you had joined the ranks of the Goths?"

"You were double checking the list of who had died," I reminded him.

"You're sure that they're dead?" he asked.

"We keep finding their ashes," I said.

"Are you sure that it's their ashes?" Mark asked.

"Yes."

"Do you watch them get burned?"

"No, but we know that the ashes are theirs."

"Is it because of the smell?"

"No, we just know."

"Bella, what if that club is faking it and your family members aren't really dead?"

"Mark, I know they are. We all do."

"I'm just telling you not to give up so easily," Mark said.

"We won't be able to handle getting our hopes crushed," I told him. "We're barely holding together as it is."

"What are you doing to prevent the club from taking you?"

"We've tried fighting," I said, "But it doesn't work. They freeze us before we can get anywhere."

"Have you asked the werewolves to help?" he asked.

"They wouldn't help us," I laughed, "but even if they did, then they'd kill us too once the club members were dead."

"But have you asked?" he inquired.

"No."

"Ask."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because then they'll get killed too, and I can't handle the werewolves getting killed for trying to defend us."

"What if it works?"

"It won't."

"Are you Alice now?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

"I just do."

"You're really arrogant now. You know that, right?"

"I've heard."

"Good. Because you really are. You don't know everything, no matter how much you want to."

"I know that," I told him. "Otherwise, I'd know how to beat the club."

"The werewolves!" Mark exclaimed. "Doesn't anyone listen to me?"

"Hmmm? What did you say?" Angela and I asked at the same time. I burst out laughing.

"Sure, tag team on me, even though you can't hear each other," Mark told us. "Real funny, girls."

"We do our best," I said.

"Seriously, though, Bella, ask the werewolves for help. The worst they can do is say no."

"They will. Jacob hates me now, and he was the only one that even remotely liked me after my change."

"It doesn't hurt to ask, now does it?"

"Yes."

"You're impossible," he groaned.

"You're just now figuring this out?"

"Are all Goths like this?"

"Mark!"

"You started it."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Bananas are yellow."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It doesn't."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Because I wanted to distract you," I answered.

He groaned again, and I could just see him rolling his eyes.

"So you said that something was wrong. What is it?" I asked, changing the subject.

"The same thing that's happening to your mom and dad, only instead of thinking that they're punks or related to the Cullens Angela and I know the truth. We're scared to death that they'll try something."

"How would you feel about spending some time in La Push?" I asked.

"We can't do that, because the werewolves will be in Alaska with you."

"No, they won't, because they'll refuse to help."

"You wanna bet?"

"You're on," I told him. "Be prepared to lose."

"What are we betting?"

"If you win, I'll take you and Angela out to dinner at any restaurant you want to go to," I said.

"If you win, then…" he trailed off, thinking.

"You'll what?" I asked.

"Let's change it," Mark said. "If I win, you have to go around for twenty years saying you are and playing the part of a Goth. If you win, then I have to act like a Goth for five years."

"Only five?" I asked.

"Think about it, Bella. You will live for an eternity. I will live for 100 years, if I'm lucky."

"Fine, you're on."

"Are you ready to go Goth and dye your hair black?"

"Sure, because it isn't happening."

"We shall see, my pet, we shall see," Mark cackled.

"Ok, that's just disturbing," Angela informed him. "Stop or I'll hit you with a slipper."

Mark cackled again, but it came to an abrupt stop with a squeal.

"Abuse! Abuse! Bella, you heard her hit me, you're a witness!"

"Mark, shut up," Angela told him.

"See what I have to deal with, Bella?" Mark whined.

"Good job, Ang," I said, hoping that she could hear. "Keep up the great work."

"Hey!" Mark protested. "I thought you were on my side!"

"Nope," I told him. "Nice try."

"Hey, I need to go, because it's well past midnight, and I have to be at work in the morning, but I'm glad we got to talk," Mark said. "I'll call you again in a month or so to see if you're still alive, and if you are, then we'll discuss our bet. You realize that by agreeing to the bet that you must call the werewolves now, right?"

"I know," I said. "Hopefully talk to you later."

"Good night, Bella!" Angela called.

"Tell her good night," I told Mark.

"I will," Mark promised. "Stay safe, okay?"

"I'll try," I promised. "You too. Let us know if you need anything."

"I will," Mark promised. "Love you, Bella."

"Love you too. Bye."

"Bye."

"Aww, that was sweet," Emmett teased me as I hung up.

"Shut up," I told him.

"It was nice," he said. "You haven't laughed that hard for a long time."

"Mark always could make me laugh, no matter how depressed I was," I said softly.

"It's good that you have him as a friend," Emmett said.

"It is," I said with a faint smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'm going to go hang out in my room."

"Okay," Emmett agreed. "Don't listen to any punk music, or I'll tell Mark."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You wouldn't."

"I would," he corrected me, "And I will if you do. I have Mark on speed dial."

"You'd interrupt his sleep."

"He'd forgive me."

"I hate you."

"That hurts. A lot."

"Ooops, sorry," I said sarcastically, sticking my tongue out at him.

He laughed. "Just don't listen to anything that I could call and tell Mark about."

"I won't," I promised. "I don't have anything to listen to, CDs or radio."

"Oh yeah."

"Yeah. See you in the morning, weirdo."