Author's note: My apologies, this took much longer than expected. I was planning on typing it on my big computer, but I forgot that my first took weeks of summer would be mainly at the house with only the laptop. Then I was going to type it on the laptop, but my E broke… Regardless, the chapter is finally completed. Please enjoy one of the final chapters of the story. I swear, swear, swear that I will have the next one out soon. I am working on it now, and I will REALLY try to work on it all of tomorrow.

Ryan Hale

I still remember my mother's face perfectly.

My new family of the vampire variety had informed me that human memories fade away more often than not, disappearing in the wake of a new life as an immortal. Even Edward, whose life was saved solely because his mother suspected Carlisle of being a vampire, doesn't remember his mother all too clearly. When they first spoke of letting these things slip away into oblivion, it frightened me. My sixteen years were small compared to how long the others had lived, but they were all I had. How could I learn to be a vampire with mercy for the humans if I forgot to be human myself?

But, contrary to what history had proven true, I never lost all of what I had once held dear. Perhaps it was because the change had come so suddenly that I didn't react like most new vampires to, but most of my memories remained intact. Just as everyone else had, I went through a stage where I craved human blood above all else, when I tried to hurt those around me so that I could get it. It felt as if my life depended on hunting down and killing a human; every moment I went without human blood, it felt like I was dying. However, just like all of the other Cullens had, I was able to overcome it eventually. Since I was the youngest of the family, it was still impossible to say that my self-control was perfect, or even better than anyone else's. Even Bella, who had only been a vampire for a few years before I joined the family, was less tempted by humans for their blood, her abilities much more practiced. But there was hope for me yet; unlike my adoptive brother Jasper, I had never looked at humans as solely prey. If I had managed to break away from the Cullens in my early days, I would have probably been driven back to their lessons by guilt alone. I always retained more of my humanity than Jasper, and in emotion, it seemed that I retained more of my humanity than the rest of them as well.

My mother's name was Sara Jamison. She had long black hair, the same shade as mine, with deep blue eyes to match. Her ivory skin, which could have so easily looked pale and unhealthy next to the darkness of her hair, was offset nicely by the contrast. Sara was kind and caring, although with a fierce temper. My recollection of her generosity might have truly been less than I remembered, strengthened by my longing to see her again, but I remembered her helping out at the community centre, even after I stopped playing soccer there after school. She even took in two foster children, and made me treat them like my younger siblings until I accepted them. The memories of her goodness and generosity are the strongest in my mind, so in truth, some of my memories have faded. But I believe this to simply be my will to remember Sara in only a positive light. If she had been the one to become a vampire and fake her death, the same memories would have faded without immortality being granted.

My mother had only been married once, to my father. A few years after I was born, my parents were divorced. My mother moved to New York to raise me, away from California, which was both the state of my birth and the home of my father. Sara didn't have a single relationship after moving to New York, often telling me that it was to take care of me more effectively. But despite her lack of desire for a new marriage, she always wanted more children. This was why, when I turned ten, she took in two foster children; Gabriel, seven, and Jennifer, five. Sara hadn't shown her temper in a long time, and I had almost forgotten it existed. But when I refused to accept them as my family, she was angrier than I had ever seen her before. My mother demanded that I accept them, and I did. It took only a few weeks for me to love them on my own terms, with Jennifer's sweet innocence and Gabriel's goofy nature. If Sara hadn't forced me at first, I doubt I ever would have had such a good relationship with my new siblings.

Both of my foster siblings came from sad backgrounds, as was to be expected. Jennifer's father, a single parent, had died as a result of cancer, leaving her to her only living relative, her mother. Upon hearing the news that her daughter would be left in her care, Jennifer's mother fled the country. In the beginning, I connected best with Jennifer. I knew what it felt like to be abandoned by a parent, if not what it was like to be left entirely alone. I had been too young to remember my departure from my father's life, but I knew that he never called my house, never made any attempt to get in touch with me. Sara told me enough about him to know that I didn't want to attempt a relationship with him, though. A drug addict who had recently gotten out of prison at the time of their marriage, he hadn't been my mother's best decision. It was lucky for both of us that she had left when she had.

Gabriel wasn't an orphan, and his parents hadn't abandoned him. It seemed like it would have been better for him, but it certainly wasn't. At first, it was more difficult for me to relate to Gabriel as opposed to Jennifer, because he didn't trust my mother. Jennifer's father had been ripped out of her life, just as mine had, and I could imagine myself in her very position, should anything happen to my mother. Jennifer took to my mother immediately, and never doubted that she was there to take care of her. Gabriel's parents, on the other hand, had both been abusive, and the trust he had placed in social workers had gotten him taken away from his home. It was certainly for the better, but Gabriel was unable to fully understand it. He still loved his parents. Before he was willing to trust Sara, Gabriel spent a time going without speaking to either of us and refusing to leave his room. After a few days time, he slowly began allowing me to speak to him. This was when he shared his fears about trusting my mother with me. It took only a few weeks after that for him to trust my mother, and somehow, we became a big happy family.

I should have known that it wouldn't last—that it couldn't last. Everything was too perfect the way it was. I was at peace with both of my siblings, and my mother and I were on equally good terms. My life stayed a fairy tale for five years; everything changed when I was fifteen, Gabriel was twelve, and Jennifer was ten. Looking back, I realize that it must have had a great affect on both of them, but especially Jennifer. She was the same age I had been when I had first met her, and I could still remember those days perfectly clearly. It was harder to understand what was going on around you, but most of all to understand how, sometimes, it was impossible to prevent things from happening. When it had first happened, I had been concentrating on how it had affected my life. But as much as it had hurt me, I had eventually been saved. Jennifer still had to live the nightmare long after I was gone.

It was a Saturday morning when it all happened. My mother had chosen to stay home and help Gabriel practice for the soccer play offs the following week, and she had granted me permission to go to the mall with a few of my friends. Since she couldn't leave the two of them at home alone and they had no intention of sitting in the car for half an hour on such a nice day, I was going to take the subway to the mall. It was a simple route, one that I had taken many times before. I took the subway across town to the stop where my friend Michael lived, and then the two of us would go down to the mall where we would meet Ian. It was a habit more than anything to make the journey, something that I did nearly every weekend that I wasn't needed to baby sit. It used to make me nervous to take the subway so far on my own, but that was a long time ago.

I am now hyper aware of all the decisions it took me to get to that point. Gabriel's team had to win the game the previous week. Jennifer had to complain that my mother wasn't at home on Saturdays a lot. Ian had to tell me about a new video game that he wanted to get. And, most of all, I had to ask my mother for permission to go, and run to catch the subway before it left. If I had only been just a bit later, if the doors had closed only moments earlier, it wouldn't have all happened. If I had hesitated instead of throwing myself down the stairs, grabbing the doors before they could snap off my arm, I would be back at home. I would have gotten to watch my siblings grow up, and grow up along with them. I could have matured naturally, and been reckless once in a while. I could have gotten grounded; my mother could have yelled me at once more. They are the least fond of my memories, but I still long for them just as much.

Everything was going perfectly smoothly, from my point of view. I was nearing Michael's stop and was a bit early, which meant that I could complain to Michael and not vice versa. I was trying to figure out how long I could hold it over his head, how much I could use it against Michael next time I was running late, and maybe the time after that. I couldn't have been thinking of anything more trivial, and it seems like a waste, considering what happened next. For the first time in ten years, the subway system wasn't running perfectly. The lights that directed each train to a different track malfunctioned, sending two trains onto the same track at the same time, heading straight for each other. Everything happened so quickly, most people didn't even know that their doom was so near. The first subway attempted to stop, but failed. The second driver was oblivious up until the point where he saw bright beams of light heading for him, and by then it was too late to even think about it.

Upon impact, the drivers and most of the people in the first car of both subways died. The few people who survived were buried under rubble, most of their bones crushed and just barely clinging on to life. I was among them. It remains one of my sharpest memories, being buried under what remained of the subway, trapped with so many dead bodies. Slipping in and out of consciousness, waiting to be rescued… It's a horror that even a vampire still cringes to think of. It wasn't until what felt like hours later, although I doubt it was truly that long, that I managed to slip out of awareness for a more final time. Unfortunately, I had to stay awake while I was dragged out from underneath a piece of metal, put in a stretcher and driven quickly to the hospital. Thanks to a possible head injury, I was deprived of pain medication until, finally, I was lying in a hospital bed, being prepared for a peaceful death.

I can't account for much of the time after this, and I rely greatly on Carlisle's description of what was happening around the hospital. Overflowing with patients from the underground disaster, it was hard to keep track of anyone. My wallet had fallen out while I was being pulled from the rubble, and therefore I couldn't be identified immediately. From what Carlisle could tell from the hurried x-rays that were taken, most of my bones were broken upon impact, and several of my organs had failed while I had been waiting for rescue. Death was nearly inevitable, and because there were other patients who had a better chance of survival needed immediate surgery.

I, like many of the other of the victims of the crash, was left to die. Since I had yet to be identified—that would come later, when family members who feared the worse came to identify bodies in the morgue—nobody missed me much. Amid the chaotic state of the hospital, nobody really noticed that a body was no longer amid the worse injured. Carlisle knew that the body would be missed eventually, when it came time for funerals and burials, but there was an easy excuse for this. Gas leaks had caused explosions through the tunnels, and many bodies had already been lost. When my mother came looking for me, she would be told that my body had surely been lost in one of these explosions. It might be harder to recover from such a tragedy with no body, but it wouldn't be much better if my mother had found me as I had been then. Blood was covering me, flowing freely from open wounds. Most of my bones crushed, arms and legs twisted in unnatural directions. No, knowing the pain I went through might be worse than allowing her to believe that she would simply never see me again.

I should have died in that hospital. I know it, Carlisle knows it, and the whole family knows it. Carlisle promised himself that he would never end another human life only to restart it as a vampire life. But even the best of us sometimes have changes of heart, and someone as passionate as Carlisle found it difficult to watch so many lives end so quickly. Privately, I suspect it reminded him a lot of when his loneliness originally subsided, when he changed Edward. The chaos of the hospital; not enough doctors or resources to save everyone, so many people left without hope of any seeing their loved ones again. It was probably with this in mind that Carlisle left at the end of his shift, when he could do more to help, with me in tow. I was already full of morphine from my injuries, and Carlisle added more so that I would feel even less when the pain increased. I still remember the change vividly, but the pain was nothing compared to what came with my realisations when it was over.

I could never see my family ever again. They had to believe that I was dead, so that I wouldn't blow the cover of the mythical creatures I now lived with. The foster children that I considered my brother and sister had to think that they had lost their older brother, had to deal with the pain of it. And my mother… My poor, poor mother had to come to terms with losing her only biological child. Normally, I would have told myself that Jennifer and Gabriel would take care of her, cheer her up. But how would they do that, knowing that I was gone? I know that it sounds self-centred, but I strongly doubted that any of them would be in high enough spirits to helps one another for a while. It should have been my job to look over them all, and I had failed.

My current situation makes me think of when I had first joined the Cullens because of the desperation, the depression that I felt following it. Why, you might ask? That is the only time I felt like there was no hope left in the world before today. The pain I feel now parallels, if not surpasses what I felt before. I hate myself for getting more hurt by the loss of someone I had known for such a short length of time compared to my own family, but there is some reason behind it. The first time, it felt as if my life was over, and I could almost come to terms with that. But here I had found new hope, and instead of changing my life for the better, it was torn away before I could truly learn how to appreciate it. It would have been selfish to stay in her life, but… Well, it would have been much better for me.

Just like when my human life had been abandoned, I wished that I could relive a single day where happiness had been central. Unfortunately, it was impossible then, and it wasn't going to happen now.