I've decided to do a small note before the chapter just as a small disclaimer. For those of you who don't like it when the OC takes up the whole chapter, I guess you can skip this chapter. There are plenty of canon characters in the chapter but it's mainly about Cara and what's going on with her as Edward returns to live with Carlisle and Esme and lives happily (but lonely) with his adoptive parents. So if it bothers you, skip it, but if not, do read on because it's quite good and it's much richer in length. I'm quite pleased. Also, I've had an idea yesterday. I'm sure everyone's got an Instagram here, right? Well, As I was looking at last months stats, I see I've got nearly 900 viewers for A Hundred Years Worth of Journals. Exciting! So I've made a promise to myself and now to you, that if we reach 1000 viewers by the month's end, I'm going to set up an Instagram page for this story and any others to come. I got so excited because everyday I see things that give me inspiration and ideas and I'd love to share those things with you and hopefully I can so for July, be sure to tell others about this story and comment and favourite and everything else you do to get the word out. I'm so excited about this and I hope we reach 1000 viewers. I truly put everything I've got into these chapters and it's so great to see others enjoy it. But, on to the story, cheers!

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Our mysterious heroine spent many a night alone, attempting to understand herself. She crept out of the castle at nights like a swift ally cat. She sat on the stony roofs of neighboring Tuscan villages and prayed under the black sky. Her abilities confused her and frightened her. She heard everyone's thoughts. She could turn invisible. She could find others based on their scent. She could make others around her feel happy. Anything anyone else around her could do, she instinctively could do as well. It was only after this dawned on her that a strong hand picked her up from her cloak and put a black cover over her face. In an instant, she was on her knees on the marble floor in the parlor area where Aro, Marcus and Caius quietly reined over the undead world. The sheet, and a few strands of her hair, were ripped off her. Cara stared at the three pairs of feet in awe.

"And what were you doing in the common villages?" Aro asked lightly. He was unusually upbeat. Cara did not dare to look at his face to gauge whether he was trying to create a false sense of hope.
"I was always careful, sir... Never catching the attention of humans." Cara began, tracing the lines in the marble with her eyes.
"But what if you had?" Marcus said suspiciously. Cara felt him eyeing her.
"I was always careful." Cara repeated.
"But why, child?" Aro asked soothingly. Cara held her breath, listening to the sounds of the room. Caius sighed, thinking of the most beautiful ways to die. On the other side of the castle, Cara heard the hushed love making of Chelsea and Afton. Outside, a cat purred as it slept soundly on a window ledge.
"I wanted to have a moment to myself. Just to think." She admitted. Aro looked at his brothers and waved his hand, signaling them to leave the room.
"Rise, child." He said when the room became vacant, apart from two. She slowly stood, staring into his eyes. His face was smiling and lighthearted, like a child's, but his eyes portrayed only death. He looked her over, "Cara, correct?" She nodded. Aro clapped his hands together in joy, "A beautiful Italian name for a beautiful girl. Do you know, it means 'beloved'?" She slowly nodded again.
"Also 'friend'." Cara added. Aro smiled and nodded.
"All true, yes," he continued to look at her, cloak to hood, "I've heard of you... Many things of you, in fact. That you are a fast learner and can outsmart any opponent."
"I try, sir."
"Pleaseeeeee, Aro." He smiled and looked into her eyes, "My dear, you don't look too much like a trained killer." He giggled, "Why, you look like a school girl, catching the attention of every boy around her."
"Looks can be deceiving, as I'm sure you know." Aro was slightly insulted by this but moved on quickly.
"Do you know of the gift that was bestowed upon me upon my change?" Cara shook her head, "Well! It's truly quite astonishing! With a simple touch of our bare hands, I can observe each and every thought and memory you have ever had. You're entire life before my own eyes. Isn't it wonderful?" Another wide smile. Immediately, Cara thought of three memories she wanted to keep from Aro, "Now, as a sort of initiation, I usually make a point to know the lives of my guard... However, I do not believe I have had the pleasure." Aro removed a smooth, inky glove from his right hand, "would you permit me?"

Cara reluctantly obliged and as they touched, she immediately saw her own life before her eyes. With every memory she wanted hidden she blocked it out from her mind, and, therefore, his. She couldn't let him see her and Edward meeting again. She couldn't let him see Aron and his sister lying in a pool of blood on their marble floor, newborns in a new, unforgiving life. And she couldn't let him see any of her thoughts from the day in the watch tower to the nights in the village. But he didn't notice, he was too enveloped in the story. And when Cara would let him see her past, she saw his. Unfiltered. She saw him bite Chelsea and laugh as she screamed in pain. She saw him rip off the heads of vampires even though they begged for forgiveness. She saw him kill his sister. His own sister. She saw Carlisle. He was disappointed, and left. From this exchange of pasts, she knew instantly who, in the coven was trustworthy and not. Most of them were not. As Aro released her hand, a plan formed in her now undisturbed mind.
"How enchanting." He said dreamily, "I see that you have caught the attention of the men around you." Cara nodded, still in shock of what she saw.
"I see that you have not yet formed any special abilities just yet, my beloved friend." Aro smiled, "You're still so young. It will come to you, eventually." He giggled, "We'll have to work on that, won't we?"
"Yes, Aro. Of course."
"Good!" Aro said with a clap of his hands, "You may retire, Cara." He took his place on his throne and grinned happily, "I simply cannot wait until I see you again."
Cara bowed slightly and turned to walk from the room. She walked down three hallways and up six staircases, so thrown by her new insight to those around her. She wanted to leave. She wanted to escape. She finally got to her room and collected all the money she could find from her hiding spots (in the Volturi, only Aro was meant to keep money, although Cara hid some in case of anything, this instance being her 'anything'). She tied her money in twine and tied it to her calf tight, like a rich tourniquet.

She removed her Volturi gown as if it were burning her skin and wore the dress she had when she first stepped foot in Volterra. She stared at her cloak on the floor and grabbed it, tying it to her neck with haste. She hadn't lived outside Volterra in nearly a year and now left with a rational fear of sunlight. As she turned out of the corridor to the staircase, she was shoved against the wall by a cloaked figure.
"Are you psychotic? Do you want to get us all killed? Do you want to expose our kind?" This threatening voice was Demetri. His hood fell as he shook Cara's shoulders.
"Of course not!"
"Then what were you doing?"
"Why? Why do you care?"
"I will not die because of you. And you sneaking out every night just to sit on rooftops could mean the death of all of us!"
"So, you've been following me, is that it?" Cara asked softly. Demetri breathed heavily and looked her over, under the dark cloak, she wore a simple white dress, worn at the skirt's hem. It fit her well. He slammed her body against the stone wall, a few pebbles falling behind her and he pressed his lips to hers. He greedily grabbed any part of her he could, pressing himself against her.
"Get off of me!"
"You think you can tease me for months and then try to sneak away unnoticed, how dare you, someone has to inform you of the way things are done here!" He began to unlace the back of her dress under her cloak as he held her arms in his hand.
"Get your hands off me!" She freed a hand and immediately swung her fist to his jaw. The force pushed him to the other wall, he kept back onto her, holding her tight by the small of her back.
"You must obey me! I made you!" Cara's anger skyrocketed, her hand shot towards his neck and in that moment, a sharp and shiny dagger seemed to materialize from her palm. She held it with force against his neck.
"No, let me explain something to you, because it seems you don't understand." Cara spat with poisonous fury. Demetri looked at the dagger in shock then laughed.
"You cannot kill me with a chunk of ice." Cara grind her teeth together and held the cold dagger between his legs, at the base of his crotch. Demetri froze in fear.
"My parents have birthed me, Chelsea has helped me, my pain has shaped me." She held the dagger closer, the threat becoming more severe, "and you, have merely strengthened me. But it was me. I. Made. Me. And you cannot take anything from me." With a swift flick of her dagger, she crippled him with a nick the size of a small nail clipping for just long enough to run down the stairs and escape the castle.
Behind her, Demetri howled in agony and screamed at her, "You will answer for your disobedience! I'll be sure of it!" She snuck out a window and jumped from tree to tree.

She made it just to the outskirts of Volterra when the sun peaked out from the horizon. Cara knew that she had to leave at day, knowing that at night they could come for her without any human intervention. She walked to the shore, quickly finding a trading ship loading up to dock. She kept herself invisible and hidden as she secretly boarded the ship and wedged herself behind two large crates in a dark and damp cargo hold.

For a week she was trapped there as they docked, unloaded and set sail again. Finally, her hiding place was compromised when one of the crates was removed. She stayed invisible and peaked behind the other crate. There were many lights although the day was dark, this was sufficient. She stumbled out of the cargo hold, exhausted and starving. When she found a street, she walked into an alleyway and allowed herself to be seen. She removed the black cloak and straightened the skirt of her dress. As she walked, she began to notice a different language and a different setting. But it matter little to her, she just needed to feed.

After nearly an hour of walking, her arm was grabbed by a man in an alleyway and she was pulled into the darkness.

"Dinheiro, dinheiro." The man demanded as he held a knife to her stomach.

"Thank God!" Cara whispered as a quick search of his mind revealed nothing but darkness. She pinned him against the wall and before he could scream, she was feasting on pint after pint of his blood.

She kept walking, eyes down, carrying her cloak like a baby. She found a small church and climbed up the fire escape to the attic. The window was broken and there were no attempts to repair it. Inside the attic, there were a few dusty rocking chairs and old silver candle sticks. Near the window there was a crucifix carved out of wood. But the window is what astonished her. It was a large window that seemed to overlook the entire city. Which was alive and excited at all hours, much like New York was when she was a child. Cara spent many hours each night sitting in the rocking chair next to the window and learning Portuguese from the Bible. She'd often look up at the glowing Cristo Redentor and then down at the streets below, surveying the city before her. The lull of constant noise, people and energy soothed her. She enjoyed watching the ever-present artificial brightness of the streets before searching for prey. When the thirst took hold of her, she would find that one lonely drunkard with nowhere to go and no one to go to. She would make it quick and humane.

For years she felt like a god.

For years she was anonymously feared by her people.

For years she was Rio.

For years she thought she was happy.