I jumped up in the bed in shock and swept over the room in search for other disturbances of anything. After a five minute investigation, the only missing item was the letter opener which was my only weapon at the time. Hopefully the perpetrator did not take all the knives from the kitchen, otherwise I am completely defenseless. As I was retracing my steps back towards the kitchen, I mentally performed summersaults at the sight of the sun shining beams of light over the gloomy patch of land known as Forks. Back in California, it was sunny almost every single day except in the winter months of course. Feeling the warm beams of light against my skin brought back memories of Father and Mother, to whom I prayed twenty-eights times for them to guide me on this journey in life. The kitchen was completely empty save for a mountain of pancakes with a fork and knife on top, a bottle of maple syrup, a neatly folded napkin, and a cup that was filled to the brim with apple juice. After closer inspection, I noticed there was a letter under the plate of pancakes and in almost indecipherable calligraphy it read:

Dear Roy,

I deeply apologize for not meeting you at breakfast today. I fear that there has been an emergency at the hospital that requires my skills and expertise. The rest of my family is occupied preparing for Renesmee's birthday, despite the fact that is in September. But as they say: early bird gets the worm. Do not take this the wrong way. The rest of the family are interested in meeting you, but are occupied with their responsibilities. At noon, expect a visitor. His name is Jacob Black and he will take you to La Push Beach to enjoy the afternoon. Once again sorry for leaving you alone at the moment. Enjoy your pancakes. Esme made with love.

Sincerely,

Carlisle Cullen

I placed the letter down and proceeded to devour my pancakes, which were surprisingly still warm. When I finished, I took the clean plate and rinsed it in the sink, along with the knife and fork. The knife in question was dainty and a far cry from a weapon. I left them in sink, due to my lack of knowledge of where to put said items, and searched the kitchen of suitable. The first thing I noticed about the pots, plates, and cups were that they were all clean as a whistle. Almost as if they were never used before. I looked back at the almost empty sink what literally sparkled with cleanliness. Surely a mansion filled with people would leave so signs of life, but everything was neatly organized and polished to perfection. As if they bought these items just for show. Interesting.

I finally found a suitable knife with the blade about six inches long. I sliced the air with it a few times and deemed it a worthy blade. A petite one, mind you, but the smaller it is, the easier it is to take anywhere. it is rare to find people who admire the beauty of a knife and how dangerous a small one can be. I was just about of leave to conduct more research when I heard a soft creak followed by a small thud. I may be antisocial. I may be a know it all with a case of survivor's guilt. But I am not paranoid (yet) and I know the sound of footsteps anywhere and it came upstairs.

With the knife in hand, I tiptoed upstairs and came face to face with a hallway of doors. I presume this is where the Cullens sleep. Each one is locked and I do not have the necessary tools to unlock them so I ended up going to each one and looking under for the intruder's feet. After ten minutes of looking, I was on the final door and my back and legs were sore from have to kneel so many times on the intricate yet fancy rugs. I looked spotted a neatly folded bed and right next to it was an entire wall of music CD's. Nothing unusual there. Like the other mystery doors, most of them were bedrooms for the Cullens and only one that looked completely empty and resembled a white box. Another fascinating discovery. Carlisle could have arranged for me to stay in the empty room with the rest of his family, but instead he gave me that was the farthest away from them. Either he was protecting them from a possible sociopathic mad-teenager or me from them. This mystery was delicious and like every good detective out there knows, that everything is a clue in its own way. The only problem is that I now need to arrange the pieces to form a mystery image.

I now needed to prepare of Jacob Black's arrival, so I got up and went back to my white room to change clothes. I still kept the knife, because as my business teacher always said, "Better to be over prepared than under prepared." Although I am positive that this is not what Mrs. Dhana had in mind. A few minutes later, I examined myself in the bathroom and felt I dressed myself rather nicely. I wore black jeans with the knife tucked safely in my back pocket. My grey T-shirt was covered by the black jacket Father bought me for my birthday. It was the happiest moment of my life. I stared at the boy in the mirror and recalled how Father told me that I inherited the Feur skin. I was completely deprived of zits and pimples that has plagued teenagers of centuries. My reddish brown hair was sticking up slightly so I wet with some water. I briefly considered either wearing either the blue or brown contact for my eye. On picture days, Father always insists that I have only one eye color so he got me contacts. Every year I rotate blue, brown, and back again. For the rest of the year, my eyes remain different.

I turned on the laptop once more and checked the time which was eleven-fifteen. Until then, I decided to continue my research of the Cullens by typing in: avoid guests super strength people. The results were complete bogus and were only about some random books and websites. I closed my eyes and tried to piece together what I already know: above average strength, avoid newcomers, eyes that change color, do not need to eat food, and have god like beauty. How in hell are they all connected?! I felt I was going to snap under frustration when the door bell rang. I jumped slightly and checked the time. Eleven-thirty. Punctual. A sign of maturity and mostly likely is responsible in his everyday life.

I raced towards the door in record, partially thanks to my new grey sport sneakers and opened the door. For a brief second, I wondered if he is somehow related to the Cullens. Like them, he possesses unnatural beauty and had the built of a god. However the resemblance ended there. He has choclate brown skin with dark vibrant eyes that were lit up like a Christmas tree. His outfit was slightly dirty with grease, but aside that he looked almost normal with his black leather jacket and flashed a perfect white smile and said," Am I correct in assuming that you are Roy Feur?"

I nodded slightly and closed the door behind me as we walked to a black motorcycle. I remember the time Father drove me to school on a police motorcycle and had to take me home because I was vomiting eggs and sausage out. Not my best moment, but the stares and gasps were worth it. Roy plus speed over fifty miles per hour do not mix.

"There she is. Isn't she a beauty? I fixed her up myself in the garage," stated Jacob proudly as he handed me a black helmet with a toothy grin. My companion sat on the leather seat and motioned for me to sit my rump down behind him.

"Would it be too much trouble for you to drive slowly? I get carsick easily when we are going too fast," I admitted as I took my seat and prayed I did not sound like a whiner. Jacob, however, looked at me with shock for a moment and shrugged.

"Fine with me. I must say, but I expected a fellow delinquent to have a stronger stomach," Jacob stated in husky voice that was laced with surprise.

"I do beg your pardon? How do you know that I am a troublemaker?" I asked shocked. The only time I have ever gotten in trouble at school was in eighth grade on the last month of school. Father preferred to the month every year as "Bloody June".

He shrugged and stated," Dr. Fang...I mean Cullen did his research and found out that a straight A student has a tendency for violence." I am shocked how casually he says the statement like it was nothing. On Blood June, I mentally snapped for the first time and I would have killed the poor bastard if the teachers didn't restrain me.

"It was self-defense," I replied meekly which was partially true. Ronald Haimon had brought a taser to school and tried to electrocute me after I yelled at me for calling Mother a whore.

"You snapped his wrist and smashed his jaw into pieces. Talk overkill, man and all he did was try to zap you a taser," Jacob answered back with a slight surprise and awe. I shrugged as if it was nothing and proceeded to sit behind him and place the helmet on.

"By the way, you said that you are a fellow troublemaker. What did you do?" I asked curiously. As the son of a police officer, one of my main goals at school was to avoid the sociopathic scoundrels and bloodthirsty barbarians that prowled the school. Ironically, I admit that I have the desire to brutally destroy anyone that annoyed, which was often everyday of my life.

"I kissed my friend's girlfriend, skipped school, pretended to be sick, punch a teacher, destroy school property, and had ripped monsters to pieces on multiple occasions," he responded and seemed to trail off on that last one. Another mistake equals another piece to the puzzle. Jacob revved up his minibike and drove off at a somewhat medium speed. It was fast, but not enough to make be puke on his leather jacket. While closing my eyes and hanging on for my life, I wondered by latest pieces to the puzzle. He called Carlisle Dr. Fang which was an interesting choice. The second mistake was the fact that he hesitated at the end of his list of felonies. The monsters part was fascinating and intriguing. Did that mean that Jacob is a vigilante who captured criminals? Is he a professional monster hunter? I am sure the answers will come soon. My job right now: smile and be social. This was going to be a long day.