First of all, I must apologize for taking so long. This is actually the longest I've taken in posting a new chapter, and despite the little get-a-ways with the family, it's partly because I'm scared out of my wits that it's no good. I have rewritten this so many times I won't even bother giving an estimate. The reason: I don't know him very well. I know that there's many fans of his that I could have gone to, especially since so many of them are some of my reviewers, as I've come to find out, but I really didn't want to ruin this for you.

Also, because I'm even more frightened that some may not be happy with what his story implies (I hope I gave enough hints, if not, I'm still explaining it more in depth in one of the next chapters). Trust me, neither was I, but without him like this, there'll be no story. Anyway, please, pretty please, review on this chapter. If you've never reviewed before, I ask that you do now, because I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing here. I'm writing to see how good I actually am at it, and to see if it would ever be worth it. Your reviews are obviously my way of finding out.

Speaking of reviews, thank you so much for the support! Eek! I almost woke up the neighborhood when I came back to find that there was over 100! Yay! I can have a 100th anniversary now! (I'm so darn old! LOL)

-L-

I do not own Twilight, or any of its contents for it all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

"Joseph"

Joseph Kristopher Paice. That's who I've been for 96 years now. Even so, standing atop the very mountain on which she-well, technically, we- jumped off of, it all seemed so surreal to me. I couldn't think of a right explanation. Of course, every now and then I'd see an image of her, but this time it was so real. I could feel that it was her this time. She seemed to recognize me, but I know that I've kept my distance from brunettes since her departure from this world. What if I'd forgotten one? After all, I'm not going to remember a century of time in every detail. Who knows, maybe she used to be a he?

Aw, geez, I could almost slap myself for thinking that. It's sick and wrong and it'll probably take the next few years to get the image of that out of my head. Retina. Whatever.

If it is my imagination-and, compared to the other options I've given myself, I really hope it is- then why was she so tangible, so real? Why did I feel at ease, when every other time I see her, I feel as tense and hard as a marble stone? Usually, when I summed her up from the back of my mind, she seemed dreamlike. There was always this air of holiness around her, like when you look at someone but the sun's rays from behind them are blinding you. That's what always reminded me that she was long gone.

Perhaps it's just a sign that my memory of her is fading. After all, I don't have any pictures of her aside from a couple of us when we were little naked midgets in a baby pool. And those I can't stand to look at. What I mean to say is, though the way I saw her was different, she herself was different as well. She seemed paler; so pale, I would almost think she was a ghost. But why would my senses fail in one aspect and not in all?

It was the scent that had made me turn back. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but it was lovely. Perhaps it was a mix of lilies and honey. Or maybe lavender, or roses! I don't know. But it was a fragrance above all else I had ever smelt in my existence. Still, there was a twist to it. The other scent I can't really even Perhaps I was going insane? Maybe Amber was right after all. She had a knack for that, and after all, she couldn't lie even if she wanted to. She could snake her way around the truth, but in the end, it was there. She was just that cunning at times.

Even if I am insane though, why am I still referring to this girl as if she truly were Bella? She's dead and she has been for a century! She wasn't changed by him; for the love of God, he didn't even stay with her!

My fists clenched and unclenched as a ripple of raw rae ran through my body, my bare chest feeling the earthquake inside me rasping to come through again. I breathed in and out, over and over again, trying to calm myself when I realized it. Bare chest.

I guess even if I didn't go back to school, I should get a shirt on. Though, honestly, I'm not hard on the eyes. Be as it may, it wouldn't be very civil to run around topless throughout the area. I shook my head in dismay. Speaking of land, I shouldn't even be here. After all, the treaty still stands. And now it bans me as well.

Bella

I searched high and low throughout all of Forks, but found him nowhere. If I'd have still been on my own, I might have dared to go into the La Push territory, but I did have a family to think of now. I wouldn't risk being found. Still, I deeply itched to keep hunting for him all the while I was heading back to school.

What seemed strange to me was that I couldn't enter his mind any more than Edward and I could enter each other's.

Checking my watch, I was thankful that I would still be back in time for lunch, but I knew there would be an interrogation. If I was lucky, there wouldn't be a light bulb held in front of me to increase the fear of the moment. I should have considered that before taking off on a whim.

Edward's probably as worried as he will be furious at my sudden leave. Alice may have even seen it all, with the luck I have. I knew I was in the dog house, but was it really so wrong to get my hopes up? I couldn't even be sure it was Jake, anyway. After all, with him being only human, it may be his son-grandson, even. Still, the resemblance was great, despite the fact that this version of him was larger than the Jacob I remembered. Even if he had always been too big for his age, I don't recall him being that muscular.

Inside, I knew, though, that if I was to come across him again, I wouldn't be able to refrain from asking for his full name. I got Joseph, but Joseph Black, perhaps? If so, what the heck was he doing in Forks? And in the Forks school?! What if it was my imagination then? What if it was some sick masochistic way of reminding myself that I didn't deserve this happiness, no matter how badly I wanted it? Was reality going to bring me under once more?

I decided against playing with that thought just as I caught the glare of a pale figure leaning against a tree in front of the school building. His auburn hair was a tad darker due to the rain, tangles of it spreading across in disarray on that perfect forehead of his.

Even as I cringed into a slower, frightened walk, it amazed me how much he looked like a fallen angel, or a Greek god. My very own Apollo.

His jaw was clenched and if I didn't know how protective he was of his family, I could swear I heard a low grown emanate from his core. Surely that was just my fear, right?

I walked even slower, feeling like a wounded animal as his eyes bore holes into me when he began to approach me. I wanted to run away screaming from the fear, but he had reason to be angry with me. He was coming forth a lot quicker than he should have. I prepared myself for a good scolding in that low voice of his-maybe even a slap, though I doubt he would go this far. But as he came closer and closer to me, he reached out his arms and pulled me harshly into his arms. I was shocked at the gesture, so all I could do was stand there like an immobile fool. He exhaled a shaky breath as he tightened his grip on me and I wondered if he'd been holding that air in. I couldn't see why, since we didn't need to breathe anyway.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he let go of all but my hand, which he pulled along with him as we walked toward Building 3, where the cafeteria was. I wanted him to say something. Anything. He could say he had milk in his nose for all I cared, but I didn't like it that he wasn't speaking to me. Had I really done such a bad deed? I could feel my eyes itching to cry uselessly. My hands began to shake a little, but I hoped he wouldn't notice. I worried it might just make him even more mad.

I dared myself to look up at him, but his expression was as blank as a statue's. I didn't know what he was thinking, what he felt, or why he felt it. I didn't know why his grip was tightening so hard it felt as though I would trip over my own hand any moment now. I didn't know anything, and he still wouldn't speak. His eyes just got harder and harder with every passing second.

What had I done?

Alright. It's done. I pray that you like it, and the next chapter will come sooner than this one did. I hope.