A/N: Happy Thanksgiving everybody! Anyway, this is a pretty longish chapter. I hope you enjoy it-I know I did.

So please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they belong to Stephenie Meyer. I only own this shiny purple ring.

Chapter 12-This Hungry Life

BPOV

"Bella?...Bella?...Bella?"

The monotonous voice continued to call that name, over and over again. I'd been sitting in this room for what felt like an eternity. I didn't know what the date was-I didn't know the time. Also, it seemed that every couple of hours a new person would come and start calling that name over and over.

With certain people, I would feel different things pull in the back of my mind, like a memory was coming back.

Every time one of the females would come, I would only think of purple. Purple stones, purple clothes, purple hair, purple everything. Sometimes when she was standing outside, I would be pulled into blackness and then a scene would play out around me. Whenever this happened, I would curl up, trying to think of new ways of escape.

When one of the male voices started chanting, I would start hearing voices in my mind. Almost all of them would just be talking about normal everyday activities, but the strongest voice seemed to be talking to me. He tried asking me questions, but I would block him out. This is when I would start pacing around, trying to think of other things besides the voice.

There was another male voice that would talk very calmly. He sounded like he was talking about his memories or reading aloud from books. He would never directly ask me anything, but I could tell that he was talking to me. I enjoyed whenever this guy would stand outside my door-I enjoyed listening to his descriptions of places and people. This man seemed to calm me down, and for a couple hours, I could sit and listen and not worry about the others in this strange, foreign house.

Most of the time, though, I would search the room. There was another door in this room that lead to a bathroom. There was a huge marble bathtub with golden feet and knobs. Two of the walls were completely covered in mirrors from top to bottom. Along one of the mirrored walls was a large white counter top with two large basin like sinks. The edges of the counter were inlayed with a gold foil in the shape of leaves.

One huge chandelier adorned the ceiling. It was covered in golden glass that cast the light in rainbows along the walls.

I peered into the full-length mirror, afraid of what I would see. Slowly, I edged in front of it and slightly opened one of my eyes. Standing in front of me was an exceptionally pale girl. She had long slender legs that were barely covered in a pair of black cargo shorts. Her feet were tiny and had a light red polish on the nails. The girl was thin, enough to show off her defined curves, but not tiny. I could clearly see her hips under a tight purple tank top that barely covered her stomach. I looked up and saw two black eyes slightly rimmed in red stare back at me. The bright eyes made her already pale face even paler, if that was possible. She was whiter than white, almost translucent, while her full lips were a deep red that matched her eyes. Long chocolate hair flowed around her face in gentle waves and rested down by her hips. The hair was soft and smooth, glowing in the low lights.

With a shaking hand, I slowly reached out and placed one hand on the cold glass. I drew my finger across the image of the girl's face, gently outlining her face and lips.

Was this girl really me? I couldn't look like this, could I? She reminded me of someone. Someone I'd seen when the black haired girl was standing outside my door.

The only difference was that that girl had lovely golden eyes, while this girl had the brightest red eyes I'd ever seen.

If this truly was me, then what was I like? What was my name? What was I doing here?

OoooooOoooooO

I felt something new inside of me; there was this terrible itching, no, longing, in my throat. A dull ache had started a little while ago. It turned into a small radiating pain, then a deep pulsing need. A small part of my brain had said that I needed food, something to sustain me, but I couldn't find it anywhere.

I had searched the entire room for something to eat, but there was nothing!

The pull became stronger and stronger until I was crazy with the hunger. I couldn't concentrate on anything; all I could do was pace. Pace, and listen to the voices that had been becoming stronger.

Edward, I saw what Bella will do if she doesn't get something to stop the thirst. You don't want to know…

Edward, when I was up there all I could feel was thirst, pure terrible thirst, but I don't think that she knows what it is. We need to get to her, I have a plan…

A plan, for what? What was it talking about?

I sat down on the huge bed in the room and growled whenever I heard something. I was trying to understand what the voices were saying.

But I quickly forgot my thoughts as the pure longing tugged at my throat begging me to give in.

OoooooOoooooO

I was lying in the middle of a huge expanse of mattress, trying to lose myself in the peaceful oblivion of sleep. I wasn't making any progress, no matter what I did or how long I laid here, I couldn't drift off.

Frustrated, I shut my eyes and started taking in deep forced breaths. A comforting earthy smell was drawn in, a delicious smell that comforted me and calmed my frustrated mind.

This smell made me think of a room, small and dark. The room was only occupied by a bed, desk, closet, and rocking chair. The desk had a small collection of books piled on top of it. There was one book on the table next to the bed, and one book, ratty and dog eared, open on the bed.

I looked closer at the book on the bed. It was a faded blue with large black lettering along the top reading Wuthering Heights.

I rolled the title around my mouth and another picture flashed in my mind. I was sitting in a large squishy armchair in a huge room. All I could see was rows and rows of bookshelves. Sitting in my lap was a brand new copy of this Wuthering Heights.

Suddenly I was standing; I have to figure out where this scent was coming from.

I searched in room, carefully smelling everything for that scent. It was strongest by the door, but I was afraid to open it.

I stood by the door, deliberating, but decided that I had to know this smell.

I slowly pulled it open and the slow creak of the door brought bubbles of anxiety into my stomach. What if all those people were on the other side?

As soon as the door was completely opened, the scent hit me full in the face. I looked around for the source and saw a large ceramic mug on the floor filled with a gooey red substance.

The mug felt cool and light in my hands. I looked at it closer and swished the stuff around; it was a symphony of reds that swirled and collided in perfect harmony. The scent was absolutely amazing, I felt light and happy and perfectly safe.

I heard the floorboards creak so I twirled around, covering the mug so nothing spilled, and turned to see who was there.

A tall man was sitting on the floor across from me. He had long honey colored hair that dripped down into his face and covered one golden colored eye. His legs were crossed Indian style, and he had a thick leather bound book open in his lap.

"Go on, drink it," he said, and I watched him warily. He didn't look threatening and made no move towards me. I examined his eyes again and only saw hope and happiness dancing beneath the surface.

I wonder what he's reading? I took a step back, leaving the door open and gestured for him to join me.

He looked startled but quickly walked in, gently shutting the creaking door behind him.

I moved quickly to the huge bed, planting myself in the center and holding the cup in my palms, cherishing the smell.

"Aren't you going to drink it?" the man asked. He was still standing by the door, looking a trifle worried, but mostly calm.

I glared at him, motioning him to come closer, and turned back to my mug.

I could feel the vibrations through the bed as he slowly moved closer until he was sitting across from me.

"Bella," I was annoyed with that name, why did they keep saying it? "Just drink it. I can tell that you're desperately thirsty, just drink it. Stop torturing yourself," he pleaded with me.

I looked at him confused, I didn't know I was torturing myself. But, if he felt so strongly about it, why not?

So I brought the cup up to my lips, pouring a tiny amount of the liquid into my mouth. It was a sweet honey like substance that trickled down my throat and calmed my whole body. It was the most amazing thing in the world. I poured more of the stuff into my mouth and savored the feeling as the honey caressed my throat and mouth. My whole body seemed to warm to the fact that this wonderful delicious liquid had entered me.

I gulped down all of the drink, savoring every drop that hit my tongue. I swiped my finger along the inside of the mug, searching for any remnants of the honey. I licked my finger clean and looked sadly at the empty, spotless mug.

The man chuckled at my expression and reached out for the mug. I reluctantly handed it to him and asked, "What's your name?"

I was surprised; my voice was thick and musical, high pitched and sweet. I couldn't believe that that musical voice belonged to me!

The man pushed the blond hair behind his ear and answered me calmly. "Hello Bella, my name's Jasper." His soft smile made me feel safe and calm.

"Is that my name then? Bella?" my soft musical voice asked.

"Yes, your name is Bella Swan. Do you know where you are?"

I thought about it. I had no idea where I was or who Jasper was. But that name, Bella Swan, it felt so familiar but strange. I thought about it and closed my eyes, a picture of remembrance coming to me.

Everything was covered in a black veil, creating a blurred picture that I was barely able to see through. I tried to focus and I saw a man, he looked young but aged, maybe his late thirties or early forties. He stood outside of a small house in the middle of a forest. As soon as he saw me, his lips pulled up into a warm smile that transformed his whole face. I ran up to him and wrapped my arms around the man, saying, "I love you dad." He replied with a simple, "You to Bella."

I opened my eyes and saw Jasper watching me with concern. I felt a sharp stinging in my eyes and a lump seemed to form in my throat.

I closed my eyes again, wanting to remember more of my father. I saw another blurred memory. My father was holding my hand and walked with me through a crowded airport. I was looking frantically through the crowd, searching for someone.

I saw a tall woman with short brown hair, she was searching the crowd too. I ran up to her shouting, "Mom! Mom! Mom! I missed you so much," and hugging her fiercely.

I looked at her and my dad and watched as they awkwardly smiled at each other. "Charlie," my mom said, greeting him. "Renée," he said in response.

So, this meant that my parent's names were Renée and Charlie, but by the way that they greeted each other, it seemed as thought they weren't married.

I opened my eyes again and watched Jasper read his book.

"Did you know my parents?" I asked quietly.

He looked up at me sadly. "No, I've never met them."

"Oh, but do you know what their names are?" I asked more desperately. I needed to know if these flashes were truly my memories.

"I believe that their names are Charlie and Renée. Although I'm not that sure."

I smiled in relief-my flashes are true.

He looked at me curiously now. "Why do you ask?"

I frowned. Should I tell him about my memory flashes? What will he think?

"Well, whenever I see, or smell, or hear something familiar I see a flash of people and action, like a memory coming back. When you said my name I saw a memory of my parents, but I didn't now if it was real or just my imagination." It was strange how comfortable I felt confiding in him.

Jasper was looking at me with an understanding look. I wanted all of my memories to come back. There was a need deep inside of me yearning for more-needing to know more. It was upsetting not to remember. I wanted to sulk. I rested my head in my hands and closed my eyes.

I was trying to sulk but a feeling of great happiness swelled through me bringing a cocky smile to my face.

I sat up in surprise and saw Jasper watching with an amused smile. Did he do that?

I decided to try it back on him. I brought all of the lethargy and drowsiness into my body letting it swirl inside of me. I then willed it onto Jasper, trying to send the exhaustion his way. I looked at him and saw his eyelids droop and his erect body sway slightly. I laughed in pure amusement and released all the fatigue from my system, which, in turn, removed it from Jasper's system as well.

He sat up stick straight again and had a peculiar look on his face. "That was interesting. I've never had my power used against me before..." he murmured.

"So that was me?" I asked excited. I didn't know that people could control emotions.

"Yes, that was you," he replied, still sounding distant.

I was filled with glee. This power was so cool! I wonder what else I can do.

I was looking out into the middle of the room when Jasper gently tapped my shoulder. Startled, I turned back to him. He had his hand held out, his palm up, holding something small. I looked closer and saw a small silver band with one sparkling purple stone. I picked it up and examined the ring in my fingers. On the inside of the band, a small inscription read "Music's Silver Sound" in a wonderful curly script. I rolled the phrase through my mind, and another veiled memory came back to me. I was standing in the forest looking up at Jasper and the small black haired girl. They were both smiling at me, and I said, "Oh, ok Jasper, Alice, nice to meet you." I turned away from them and slipped the ring on my finger.

"Jasper!" I yelled excitedly, coming back to the present.

"What?" he asked, a little frightened and somewhat surprised.

"No, no. I saw you in a memory. In the forest, I was with you and, and, Alice! Yes that's her name, ALICE!"

I was nearly shouting in my happiness. That was, until another memory hit me.

I was standing in what looked like a high school. Alice was standing in front of me, her face blank and her eyes cold.

"Alice I have something I wanted to a-"I started but she cut me off.

"Sorry Bella. I really have to go." She slammed the locker door and looked up at my face. Her eyes seemed to darken a couple shades, and she walked off and disappeared behind a mob of students.

I quickly remembered another memory where I was standing in a large open room, like a gym, and tons of kids were wheeling around on rollerblades. I could feel that my balance was of kilter so I fell. A laughing Alice came and helped me to my feet.

I was in another memory where I was again skating and, of course, I fell. This time no Alice came to help me, but I could clearly see her skating in the other direction.

I came back to my room with Jasper staring at me. I was on the floor, my legs tucked underneath me and my hands clasped, almost praying.

I could feel the stinging behind my eyes and the lump forming in my throat. I wished that I could cry-it always felt better when I could cry.

I stood up and threw the ring at Jasper, hitting him in the chest.

"Tell Alice, that she can have her stupid ring back," I cried out.

Jasper winced, pretty much cringed away from me. He could probably feel the sting of the betrayal that came from Alice's abandonment.

"Why?" Jasper asked, clearly mystified.

"Because she was supposed to be my friend, someone who talked to me. Not someone who ignored me completely for no reason and wouldn't even explain why!" My voice was loud and raw by the time I'd finished.

"Oh Bella, Alice wasn't abandoning you," Jasper said, shaking his head and smiling widely. .

"Well that's what it felt like," I snapped back at him before he could finish. I crossed my arms and looked away.

"She was trying to protect you from something that she knew would happen if she continued to fraternize with you."

I glared at him; this was not what I wanted to hear.

"Get out," I said in a low, threatening voice. I forced all of the fears that I'd repressed on him, hoping that then, he could finally feel what I was feeling.

He fell off of the bed and clutched his head.

I put up all of my walls, needing to go over everything that he had said. I pictured Jasper leaving and I could hear that he was being forced away.

I turned around and saw that he was standing in the doorframe, pushing against an invisible wall.

"Bella!" he called out, trying to reason with me, but I shut the door on him yelling, "Come back tomorrow! I'll talk to you then!"

And I would talk to him then, because I was slowly receiving my memories. But what scared me the most wasn't what I was seeing-it was what I was becoming.