July 2, 2009~

It has been months, no years, since I have seen and heard from the mysterious 'Edward' man who claimed he knew my mother. I was only ten, but now I am fourteen. The memories of my beloved mother are extremely vague. Yet, the tiniest things bring my memory back.

I still look back on the day that Edward came to me and talked to me about my mother. He promised me that in the future, everything would pull through and fate would find its way.

But it has been too long for that.

I lost my hope in Edward long ago, when school started the following year in fifth grade. There was still a little spark of hope inside of me telling me that Edward was still out there waiting to come and give me good news. Better yet, there was something telling me that my mother Bella was going to find me.

All hope dispersed when the orphanage checked for any sign of every girl's parents or family. Many girls were salvaged, but the Cullens could not be contacted. Even Alex was reached. He took Lily home, hugging her as Lily cried and held onto him tightly, but Violet and I had to stay.

That was in seventh grade, when I was thirteen. I knew Edward was never coming back and it was highly unlikely Bella would come, too. I plunged into a deep depression after that. I was completely inconsolable; not even Violet could cure me.

I didn't understand; why did Edward build my hope up just to knock it all down again? And why did he fix my damaged locket? How did he even get his hands on it?! My face flushes with anger just thinking about him.

And now, I walk through the dark, dreary hallways of the orphanage/now boarding school that once seemed friendly and welcoming. My bag is slung over my shoulder and wisps of bronze curls fall in my face. The impassive yet bitter expression I wear is always present. I haven't laughed, let alone smiled, in what seems like forever.

I pull the key out of my uniform skirt's pocket and fumble with the lock. I sigh deeply and push the door open. Ugh.

Pink wallpaper, pink beds, pink carpeting…it is a living nightmare. I grumble and trudge to my bed in the back corner of the room. It is plain food, not the cheap pink sparkly crap that my roommates have for their headboards. Plain white sheets, a bedside table and lamp, and a simple bookshelf is all I have and need.

Courtney, Jenny, and Sabrina became my new roommates after I was supposedly was noted as a "bad influence" on my cousin Violet. Especially during my period of depression.

So they placed me with three girl-girl freaks with insanely bubbly personalities to try and lift my spirits. And…

It worked!

You're probably saying to yourself, "Really? She still sounds pretty miserable to me."

Well…I lied. If you doubted my enthusiasm, then you were correct. If you didn't, then go see a doctor.

Just kidding; but you know what I mean.

Anyway, Courtney and Sabrina are sprawled across their beds, talking on bright neon pink cell phones. Jenny isn't here, and I'm not surprised. She always lingers outside in case any "hot farmer boys" came passing by on the old country road.

Now, I know orphans do not have cell phones. Well, the orphanage was going bankrupt with all the recent adoptions and such. To prevent any further loss of money, the headmaster decided to turn it into a boarding school. So really, my roommates are just rich snobs sent here because their daddies care so much about them.

I sigh and plop on my bed, staring up at the white ceiling. At least they have daddies, I think to myself sadly. What I would do to meet my real father…

"Mommy?" a little girl chirps with my bronze curls at waist-length, innocent brown eyes, and ivory skin. She crawls silently into what looks like an apartment living room. A familiar woman, I immediately recognize as the woman from all my other flashbacks, turns away from the book she is reading. "Yes, Renesmee?"

Renesmee: the little girl is me. The woman is my mother Bella.

I curl up into Bella's lap on the couch and says quietly, "Will I ever see Daddy again?"

Bella sighs. "Maybe."

"What if I forget him?"

"Well…memories fade. Hopefully you'll have a little piece of him if you never do see him again."

"I remember what he looks like, but I sort of forget his voice."

That made Bella sad. "He had a beautiful voice—soothing and smooth like velvet. You look so much like him. Sometimes it makes me sad to remember him."

There is a long pause. Then I put my hands over my face. "Is this better? Now you won't be sad."

Bella laughs. "Oh no; at the same time I love seeing him in you. It makes me more happy than sad."

"Okay," I giggle and take my hands down. *flashback ends* Then, I think of his face in my locket with Bella and me…

"Nessie?!" Sabrina snaps. "HELLO?!!"

I blink out of my daze and stare up angrily at her and Courtney.

"What are you, like, dead?!" she shouts.

"Yeah, I'm dead; that's exactly why I'm talking," I snort.

Courtney rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Nessie. You know your behavior kinda creeps me out."

"Ugh. That makes two of us," Sabrina scoffs and they glare down at me. "Well I'd be depressed too if I was named after the Loch Ness Monster.

That does it. I stand up and snap, "Nessie is not my real name. My real name is Renesmee."

Sabrina wrinkles her nose. "Stupid name alert!"

Anger boils inside me and my face turns bright red. "How dare you say that! I was named after my grandmothers! My mother gave me this name!"

"Big whoop," Courtney says.

"I haven't seen my mother since I was FOUR YEARS OLD! And I can never go back because God-knows-what was after me!" I choke back the tears that blur my vision. "I don't even know if she's alive!"

"Oh, cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it already!" Courtney storms. "All you have to do is open your stupid little locket and see her."

"It's more complicated than that, trust me! But you would never know because you've never been ORPHANED!!"

Suddenly, I feel a tugging behind my neck. Then, the locket slips away. I whip around to see Sabrina standing there with the golden locket in her hand.

"GIVE IT TO ME!!" I order.

"Whoops," Sabrina mutters. "I broke it. But…oooh, your dad's sexy."

"Bitch!!' I shout. "Edward fixed that for me!"

"Too bad," Courtney says smirking.

I don't think twice about my next movement. My fist swings around and rams right into her face. Her nose makes an unpleasant crunching sound and blood spurts out. She screams so loud that the room shakes.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Sabrina shrieks. I jump at her, sending the locket flying onto the floor. But Sabrina is a whole lot tougher than Courtney. Our hands lock and we both push each other, struggling to weaken the other. She throws a punch at my face, and I neatly dodge it. I grab her as she stumbles forward and smash her against the wall. My bookshelf breaks and the books slide down onto the floor. She socks me right in the mouth and I immediately taste blood. Then Sabrina kicks me in the stomach and sends me crashing into the desk. The wood splinters and breaks, stabbing through my skin and tearing my shirt.

I stand up, but pain rips through me. Blood gushes out of the wounds and down my back, but I push onward. Sabrina is on her bed, her eyes wild and her hair tangled.

My head is spinning and the world is slipping from beneath me. My breath arrives in short pants.

"Not so brave anymore, are we Cullen?" Sabrina sneers.

"That's what you think," I growl and leap at her with every last ounce of strength I have.

Sabrina screams, and the next thing I know, my teeth are sunken into her arm. I bite down and rip away, the blood filling my mouth. It gushes down her arm as she cries out in pain. I fall off the bed and land on the floor with a thud. My vision shakes and blurs, but I have enough time to see Jenny standing there with Sister Fiona and the headmaster. A bunch of other girls are behind them, gasping in awe. One girl in particular catches my eye: Violet.

Tears are rolling down her ashen cheeks and she trembles with fear. Then, blackness.

Part II:
I open my eyes to reveal a hospital room glowing white with its cleanliness. I turn and find the headmaster sitting there with a worried-looking Sister Fiona. The headmaster does not look worried at all, though. It looks as if he's going to combust and explode.

"Miss Cullen," he spits bitterly. "What in God's name were you thinking?!"

I don't say anything.

"You bit Sabrina!!"

Still, nothing.

"You are not an animal," he snaps. "Therefore, we can no longer afford to have such a savage...hooligan at our school. You cannot attend St. Scholastica's anymore due to your despicable behavior. Your bags are already packed, so there's no need to fret."

Now I decide to speak. "But I'm not here to attend the school! I'm here because I'm an orphan!! I have no place to go." I pause. "It was an orphanage before it was this stupid, snobby, stuck-up school."

The headmaster shakes with anger, but restrains himself from strangling me. "Two men have agreed to take you as a housekeeper for the summer," he says, adjusting his ugly checkered tie.

"Are they gay?" I mutter under my breath.

"MISS CULLEN!!" the headmaster thunders. He glares at me in disapproval and. Sister Fiona just looks at her feet.

I snicker evilly.

"They are brothers," he tells me. "They are young and single, so you won't have to worry about managing children."

Great. This immediately sounds like a recipe for disaster.

"In the mean time," the headmaster continues, "you will be sent to a fun dance camp for a few days to recuperate."

Dance? Is this some sort of joke???? "Um, I don't dance, sir," I breathe.

"Nonsense," he growls. "It was either this or the New York Center for Juvenile Delinquents and I will not have one of St. Scholastica's students sitting with a tattooed thirteen-year-old for the next few years." His face suddenly turns bitter again.

"Why didn't you let me choose?" I ask innocently, but the headmaster gives me a look that scares the living crap outta me.

"You will go in the morning. When your few days are up, you and your new parole officer will return here and your new owners will take you to your new home." And with that, the headmaster gets up and leaves the room in a huff.

"Parole OFFICER?!" I shout.

"Renesmee," Sister Fiona begins, her Spanish accent very thick. "You cannot be trusted by the 'public'. You need a parole officer to monitor you."

I sigh and look up at the tiled ceiling in despair.

"I don't understand," Sister Fiona goes on. "You used to be so charismatic and cheerful." She pauses. "That man...the one who came four years ago—did he do something to you? Did he hurt you in any way?"

"He...he said he knew my mother—Bella." My voice cracks on the last word.

Sister Fiona bites her lip.

"He said that he would come back and bring me home to Bella. But when the orphans' family members were contacted a few years ago, I lost hope in Edward because Violet and I were told we had to stay." I don't realize I am crying lightly until Sister Fiona puts her hand on top of mine and says softly, "Do not cry, brave one." Then, a flashback: a tall, pale girl with pin straight black hair and spring green irises standing before me in a misty football field. "Hello, brave ones," she whispers, her perfect voice flowing like the smooth notes of a piano.

*flashback ends*

"I'm not brave," I sniffle. "I'm a coward. I bit a girl because she broke my locket."

Sister Fiona breathes in deeply.

"Wait, my locket!" I suddenly remember. "Where is it?"
The nun pulls the golden oval out of her jacket pocket. It hangs on a measly bit of string, but I take it with much gratitude and hug it to my heart.

"The headmaster wanted to get rid of it," Sister Fiona explains. "But persuaded him to let me give it to you."

For the first time in years, I open my locket and look inside at the beautiful picture of my mother and me...and strangely, Edward.

"I didn't open it," she says quickly. "I didn't know if it was too personal..."

"Here," I say, smiling. "You can see it. I want you to."

Sister Fiona takes it and studies the picture. "Plus que ma propre vie," she recites in perfect French. "More than my own life."

I nod.

"Your mother is beautiful," she observes, awestruck. "And so are you. And the man is..." Suddenly she pauses. "Edward." Her large dark brown eyes lock with mine. "The man who came four years ago...he's your father? He is in this picture."

I shake my head. "I'm not sure. Four years ago, when he left, he fixed the broken chain. It was the first time I'd seen him in the picture. Before that, the man's face was blurred. And, I would have flashbacks of my father, too. His face was always blurry, until I met Edward."

Sister Fiona cocks her head in fascination. "I've never heard of that before. The human mind is strange, the way it works sometimes, isn't it?"

I yawn and nod.

"You should get some rest," Sister Fiona says, stroking my matted curls.

"Yes," I agree, closing my eyes.

"Goodbye," Sister Fiona whispers.

"Take care of Violet for me...please."

Part III:
A cab comes and picks the parole officer and me up in the morning. It takes us to some big obnoxious arena in New Jersey called the IZOD Center. A woman leads us deep into the bowels of this place, were the Nets dancers are practicing in the basement. When we get down there, it is probably the most awkward thing I have ever experienced.

A bunch of tall pretty girls are lined up in front of about thirty-something girls who look about my age. My parole officer, Angelo, checks me in with the director Natalie.

"Have fun, Renesmee," he chirps. "I'll see you in tonight's performance!"

"It's Nessie," I hiss. As he walks away, I mumble, "And no you will not."

I decide to go with the tomboy, don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-kick-your-ass type. I am wearing a backwards baseball cap, loose cargo pants, and basically my only shirt—the bloody, ripped one that Sabrina destroyed. With all that, a lovely touch is the creepy gauze wrapped around my right hand. I am required to wear it after the desk's wood sliced through my palm. The best part is, I still have a bunch of jagged scars everywhere.

Everyone gives me strange stares as I walk into the line next to a familiar-looking girl with curly brown and large brown eyes the same color as mine. She watches me carefully, but I turn and snap, "What're you lookin' at, punk?"

She turns right away and the music starts up again. I can't dance to save my life, so I spend the majority of the time stomping around like a bull in a china shop.

Then, break-time comes. It is 6:00 p.m. and performance is in a' half-hour. Joy.

Natalie strides up to me after practice and glares at me. "What do you want?" I ask, taking a swig of my water.

"Just listen, kid," she warns. "If you think this dance camp is some kind of practical joke, then you are sure as hell wrong. So shape up for that performance or else I'll have a little word with that parole officer of yours."

This lady thinks she scares me, but in all reality, Elmo can scare me more.

"There are talent scouts coming," she babbles on. When she is finally finished, she says, "You got, Renee?"

I choose not to correct her with my name. "Yeah, whatever lady," I growl. I don't even turn around to see the outraged look on her big ugly face. She won't have to worry about tonight; I've already planned my escape.

I sit down against one of the large steel pillars and rummage through my bag. A small MP3 player ends up in my hand; the one Angelo gave me to kill spare time. I put in the headphones and shuffle the music, but to my great displeasure, all that comes out is some Mr. Feelings guy telling me it's okay to be angry.

"What is this crap?!" I wonder aloud, and scroll through the list of songs: Mr. Albert & Being Angry, Mr. Albert & Showing Emotion, Mr. Albert & Getting a Root Canal...where the hell is the music??
I growl and coil my fingers around the tiny MP3 player, feeling it crumble under my ivory fingers. The screen cracks and it sprinkles to the floor in a feeble blue dust.

Now, I am just as amazed as everyone else, because I do not remember possessing superhuman strength. About seven other girls are staring at me in shock. One girl drops her opened water bottle, and it spills all over the floor.

"That's right," I say, nodding. "I just destroyed that iPod with my bare hand."

The familiar girl with curly hair who was standing next to me in the dance gallops to me and plops down on the cool floor. "Hi," she greets me, smiling. "I'm Tina. What's your name?" Then, a flashback: Tina is standing in a classroom with a plaid skirt and white golf shirt. I am in a desk, in the same ridiculous uniform, except with...blonde hair??!!

"My name is Valentina," Tina says giggling. "And my hobby is dancing."

*flashback ends*

"Um, my name is Nessie," I stutter, suddenly sounding not so tough anymore.

"Nessie? That's a cool name. Is it short for something?"

"Yeah. Renesmee is my real name."

Tina beams. "My real name is Valentina."

I smile weakly.

"So, are you excited for our first performance tonight?" she asks.

I shift uncomfortably. "Actually, I don't plan on staying. I am considering escape."

"Oooh," Tina says. "I won't tell the Nets dancers. Or Miss Natalie on that note."

"Yeah," I sigh. "She really hates me already. I don't blame her though; I can't dance to save my life."

"Aw, don't say that."

"Ah, but it's true."

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"

I pause and look at the ground.

"I'm sorry if it's too personal. But...I won't tell anyone."

"It's complicated," I begin. "Basically, I got in trouble at my, er, school...and instead of juvy they sent me here."

"Wow. Enough trouble to go to juvy?" Tina asks, her eyes widening.

"Um, yeah," I mumble. I glance up at the clock on the wall and say, "I gotta jet. If Natalie asks, don't tell her where I am, please."

"No problem," Tina says. "And...good luck!"

I don't take a second look back. I race down the halls and through the tunnels all while following the 'exit' signs marked in glowing red letters.

I take a left and power-walk through the tunnel, when suddenly I notice someone: a tall, lean figure with chalky white skin and bronze hair. His hands are in his jeans pockets, and he is wearing a black t-shirt and Converse sneakers.

Oh, damn.

"You!" I shout through clenched teeth. I storm toward him.

"Who, me?" Edward asks playfully. He does the crooked smile thing and I look away.

"Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to dazzle you."

I wrinkle my nose and thrust a mighty punch at him, but he catches my fist and says, "I don't think that would be such a bright idea."

"Why not?!" I hiss. "Besides, you left me at an orphanage saying that one day soon you'd come back and take me to my mother!"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Four years...I waited for you for FOUR YEARS!"

"Well then now you can just come with me and I'll bring you home."

I am wild with anger. "It's not as simple as that!"

"Why?" he asks, suddenly becoming serious. "Haven't you ever heard of 'forgive and forget'?"

I laugh bitterly. "That's another story, Edweird."

He narrows his eyes at me.

"I was depressed. I couldn't eat or sleep or do ANYTHING! How could I forget the worst years of my young life??"
"Because those days are in the past! If you keep thinking about it, you'll never get any better. You'll only get worse."

"I don't care if I get worse. Actually, I don't think it's physically possible to get worse than I am."

Edward's expression was sour. "You act like your life is damn miserable!"

"Because it IS!"

"Oh yeah?" He bends down to my height.

"Try me," I growl.

Edward grimaces. "I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. I had to help Bella! She would've died!!"

"You lie!" I shout theatrically.

"Fine. Don't believe me. I don't care."

"Good. I'm leaving." I begin to walk past him put he grabs my arm and wrenches me back.

"You're not going anywhere, young lady."

"What are you, my father?! Leave me alone, creep!" I try to slip away from his grip, but Edward is too strong. "Get away!"

"Renesmee, listen to me! You're going to be in danger if you leave."

"The only danger I'm in is going with you! How do I know you're not like a rapist or something?!"

"Because you just have to trust me," Edward pleads. "Please, Renesmee."

"NO!!!" I holler and suddenly break into a sprint through the tunnels. Edward chases after me, and he is very fast. So fast, that he's almost a blur. I break through the wooden doors temporarily put there for construction and collapse in the evening sun. The cars from the highway rush by and the sound of trucks and rocks crumbling are from the construction site across the road. I turn, but Edward isn't there. Where the hell did that freak go? I wonder to myself. I shrug and keep walking, back to the hospital where my bags are and where my new job awaits.

Then, I woke up.