Chapter 6

Okay, now I have nothing but questions, where did the transfer papers come from? Not terribly pressing; I'll ignore it for now. Who attacked me, and why in the morning? Am I going to be walking out of that meeting knowing anymore than I do now? Did it target me specifically or was I in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Okay, one thing at a time. I need to sit down and sketch out the cur that attacked me (one point for me I got a chance to call somebody a cur!) Generally when it comes to art I'm about as good as a lemur with cerebral palsy. My one saving grace is that I can draw a half decent portrait from memory. I emphasize the halfway part of that last statement. I think that I'm somewhere between a street side caricature artist and a professional sketch artist. This one; however, was going to be particularly difficult.

For the most part if something is attacking me I focus less on the face and more on the bits that could kill me, knives, guns, claws, teeth, poisoned spit, and a couple I don't want to relive. Just the thought of it makes me want to vomit. I could give a good detailed description of the mouth, but the rest of the face is just a bit on the hazy side. Okay, think. I closed my eyes and let my hand do the work.

His jaw, it was blunt, but not too strong; his chin was cleft. His lips were rather thin; cheeks were full, not thin, and not plump. High cheekbones bordering on feminine, but definitely male. Nose was normal for someone white; it was outrageously normal, absolutely nothing special about it. It wasn't pointed, but it wasn't blunt; it wasn't turned up, but it didn't hook down. Eyes were almond shaped and rather far apart. Eyebrows were extremely close to the eyes. High forehead, rather squared. Ears where swept back. His hair was the most distinguishing part of him. At one point it had to be high and fluffy, like a fizzy poodle, but not curly; wavy maybe. Maybe it was combed back. It was strait, with a slight wave to it. By the time I saw it, it was matted down with mud. I'm only guessing to the way it would normally look.

I put the finishing touches on it. Definitely not my best work, but the fight was hectic and fast. The best look I got was after I stabbed him in the chest, and before he hit the ground, five seconds at the most, two at the least. I racked my brain for any other detail I could get and I came up with absolutely nothing. It was the best I could do, but it wasn't right.

It was all I had. Have I mentioned lately that I'm a perfectionist?

My feet ached, my ankle was throbbing, I must have sprained it earlier, and the adrenaline kept me from noticing. I also reeked of something that could only be described as wet dog mixed with burned hair. I was definitely going to need a shower or at least a fresh change of clothes before I went anywhere.

Everything was moving too fast. My head was spinning, too many things swirling around up there; the dreams, the prophecy, the attack, the feral vampire. Was I the common denominator here? I have to deal one at a time. If I go off in a million directions at once, someone innocent will get hurt, Bella, Charlie, Sparkles (well those are the only three people I know within a thousand miles.) What I need is at least one good night's sleep, without being plagued by that dream. Short of that a good meal would do wonders. I can't remember the last time I ate something with more than two components.

Step one on a road to a happier shit hole, change clothes. I quickly stripped down enjoying the lack of putrid smell. I disposed of them into a black trash bag. It would be a miracle if they ever smelled right again, fortunately my shirt smelled reasonably normal. I grabbed a new set of clothes out of my suitcase; I'm starting to run out at an alarming rate. Note to self, self get more clothes, or find a washing machine. I also grabbed my grey cloak; it might be a good idea to look close to official. Now to wait; when dealing with nigh-on immortal creatures time is never a factor they concern themselves with; however, when you're a mortal waiting on an immortal the wait sucks. Plain and simple. Well since there's nothing better to do; may as well take a nap.

I stretched out on the couched, closing my eyes. It didn't take long before I dozed off. Not long after that I started to dream. I was standing alone in the heart of an old growth forest. The canopy kept me from the sun, I was cold, I was in pain. Looking down I saw the blood seeping from my leg, the wound was identical to the one I gave to… I gave to… someone. I took a step forward before crashing down with pain. I tried to stand again. I failed, the pain was exquisite. I screamed out. I lay there, sobbing. The pain was spreading into my abdomen and up into my chest. I couldn't move anymore, I couldn't scream. I only wanted to die.

The mist rolled in, shrouding everything. I could barely make out the shapes of the nearest trees. "God I'm going to die here." I coughed out in a hoarse whisper. Then a bright light surrounded me pulled at me from a dozen different directions. Everything went black. Slowly my sight came back to me I wasn't in the forest anymore. I was lying on the cold stone floor of an old building. It may have been a crumbling lighthouse, or an old watchtower; whatever it was the walls were high and the stone floor was cold. I tried to move, I couldn't. I was chained. I looked around trying to see anything that might help me escape.

I was no longer alone; three sets of eyes bore down on me. The first was Her, she had the same intense glare that haunted me. The second I recognized, Katherine, the only girl that I had ever loved, and I killed her. The third was the one I had killed today. His shirt was stained in blood.

I started shaking, shivering. I couldn't control a muscle in my body.

I bolted up. I couldn't say the last time I woke up normally. I blinked a few times, trying to focus my eyes. My breathing was hard and raspy, all the soreness and pain had a chance to really set in.

"Bad dream?" A familiar voice asked. I couldn't put a name to it just yet.

"Yes, you could say that, what's up?" I felt absolutely sick, the pain, the fear, the realization that I was walking into the lions den soon was setting in.

"Edward called; we're supposed to meet them at their house in one hour." She said. The fog was lifting, her name is Bella.

"How long will it take to get there?" I asked. At least I managed to get some rest. I still wanted to grab something to eat before leaving.

"Half hour give or take." She answered.

"Did you tell him that you were coming? I was hoping to surprise them."

"I didn't say anything about it, but with Alice they probably know." Wow I had actually completely forgotten about the seer.

"We should probably leave now. I don't want to leave anything to chance. Are you nervous?"

"Yes." She replied meekly.

"Tell you the truth, so am I." I gave a small smile before grabbing my cloak and walking out of the room. I was tempted to put it on, then I remembered what Harry had said 'cloaks and cars do not mix.'