The next day past in a daze as I engrossed my mind into Lizzie's once world. My sight strut down the lines of her intensive words and my pale fingers swiftly flipped through the next page, as I later began to realize were the only two parts of my body that moved all day. I had forgotten all about Alice and the others once this book entered my life.

It eventually began to strike me that while she had been living the rest of her human life in an abusive family household, I was gone living the very beginning of my new life as a filthy murderer. But, I tried not to think about that. Her story had started off in the late stages of her Newborn life and that was the farthest I tried to stick my mind to. She had slowly began to control her urges and become more civilized as a vampire. It dated back to as far as 1872:

August 29, 1872: Amarillo, Texas

I'm still adjusting to these new feelings. This new nature. But, most of all this new sight! For once, in a long time, I am finally able to see again.

She carried on telling about how she felt the new discoveries to being a vampire as compared to human. Yet, nothing could compare to the gift of sight she was finally given back. From this writing, Jasper could easily conclude that she was still in a way innocent. She seemed so eager and excited. He tried as much as possible to avoid the word 'naive' in these qualities. Nevertheless, she had grown up with two male vampires. They were the ones who Turned her and took her in as their own. He had never heard of one of them before, but regarded the other one much carefully according to the same familiar name he once encountered. Their names were Eron and James.

From how Lizzie described it, Erom was a tall six foot one vampire with a head of long straight brown hair, and wistfully wise eyes that always seemed to find her substantual. She grasped that love and warmth with as much force as a child searching for candy. At least that's what it seemed.

As for James, he was also tall at about the same height and had somehwhat of a husky, yet handsome face. Sharp cheekbones, fair hair, he was a catch when narrowing down decent prey to claim as victims.

He was a viscious killer, she had written on a day when she experienced a tramatic discovery. It was on a day when she knew the vampire wasn't supposed to be disturbed - and then she knew why - when she walked, unseen, on the monster trying to seduce and drain his female human victim. She had recovered, relunctantly, but would never forget - or understand - the few seconds of ruthlessness one saw when playing with their food. Despite that day, though, he was usually a calm, intelligent vampire. He was the leader of their small clan, although no one ever discussed it. He was just always made the decisions.

Eron was his companion, but a much more gentler version of the other vampire as Lizzie observed. He, as well, was an atrocious killer she later began to realize, and yet that never struck her as hard as when James took his victims' lives. And she knew why too.

. . .Eron - when hunting only took down his victims out of thirst and no other. However it seemed he was in control of it, he fooled many. Even James didn't know how much it troubled and hurt Eron when he drained his human victims. And neither did I until I aged timelessly to the new millennium.

I came across him one night when he thought he was alone. Blood splattered everywhere in the area he was at, which helped me stay covered under my own natural scent. When I saw him, for a quite a moment I couldn't tell if it was even him. He was on his knees buried in a corpse's torn shirt. He was whimpering, snarling, even praying. I had never seen him like that and it worried me. So many questions had run through my head. Why is he behaving like this? Why is it happening now? Before I could witness any further he stood up and I was gone.

Jasper, himself, seemed to grow an attachment to this Eron. From how Lizzie wrote it how could you not find him interesting. Not to mention, the tale she described told him there was more to this vampire than met the eye. A vampire who grieved after killing. What sort of nonesense is that? Vampires often never showed emotion much less grief for killing. After the Newborn stage, a majority of vampires grew accustomed to it. And yet not this one. He, Jasper was sure, had never connected with the Cullen's who he was sure were the only ones of their kind that replaced the fuel of human blood for that of animals.

Meanwhile, as he continued, there was more to come. As Lizzie avoided the subject of ever talking about that night - just like the one with James - she later discovered a unique gift she faintly believed had come from God. Of course even she knew better by then. Her spectacular ability to transport herself from one area to the next in the blink of an eye was fascinating to the eyes of her companions. Eron was proud of her, she thought. And James. . .

He looked at me as if he had just actually saw me. As if I hadn't existed at all throughout my decades and here he was now looking at me with this great amazement.

This was when she was slowly starting to loath James.

As for Eron, she hung on to him more, desiring to spend more of her endless moments with him because that was what she wanted. He loved and cared for her the same way a true father might for a daughter. And, that was all she ever wanted, she noted in later paragraphs. Love, attention, a family. And Eron gave her just that.

In later years, she eventually brought up the question as to why she was what they made her. She could exactly remember everything that had happened on that awful night so many years back. It was as clear as glass in her memory, but as vague and pointless as the sort of pencil one might use to write a letter. She didn't seem to regard much on the whole scenerio that played through on that night, yet the question on why always bothered her.

Scrubbing the dishes from the recent dinner, Lizzie had just been mocked by her step-family. This was often, she knew and took no care in it. It was during times like that she was glad she couldn't see. Our step-sister had played a foolish performance on how Lizzie always walked. Always trying to grasp on to anything if she should fall or reach her hands out in front when she was not sure what was to enter her path. They'd all laughed and joined in the play. Lizzie had just kept washing dishes.

Just before she'd reached to place the last clean dish on the counter, and instant noise erupted from the hall. A scream. Not a second was spared until she heard the somber sound of a body crashing.

The sound of a man sounding relieved had entered her hearing when she started to panic and run to the back door. The family had just moved into the house, and Lizzie wasn't familiar enough yet with the surroundings. She'd ran straight into the bottom edge of the cabinets and crashed onto the tile floors. She had waited for some kind of footstep to approach her, but was surprised when none arrived. That was, until, when she heard the terrifying tone of a solid man. He'd muttered something she couldn't understand due to the head bang. But, she was sure he was not referring to her. It had sounded much like, "She's here".

Another sudden voice had popped up, yet it sounded a distance away. "Bring her. I'll take care of this one." She had felt soft, cold hands lift her small body and carry her off like a small child. Lizzie, meawhile, had been too hurt to take notice of what they were doing. She had already assumed they were about to kill her and that would be the end of it. She would die young.

And young she did. When she had eventually woken up from the journey of pain and agony, that was when she arrived into the new updated version of the world around her. She'd met the men who captured her with her own two working eyes and then the growing burning sensation that she needed a drink.

I was awfully surprised they didn't just kill me. I was so small and weak, that and including blind. And yet, against all odds, they chose me to be apart of this nature! The first question I first asked them was, Should I be honored? For some reason they always made it seem like an honor to be turned into this.

Eron laughed. "Sweetheart," he crooned, kneeling before her with a genuine expression. "We did it to help you. We both saw you the day you arrived in that densely populated, shallow town. We watched you day and night seeing an opportunity smack dab in your eyes." His soft eyes gleamed. "You needed a chance and we gave it to you."

I had never thought of it that way.

James also agreed.

As later years past, Jasper read on to find out that after spending a significant amount of time in America, it was time to return to Europe. It was where the two adult vampires were originally from. They went to England first where James had first been born and then Paris where Eron grew up. The two brothers had lived a wonderful human life, so Lizzie had explained. Until death was exposed and James was the first to go. Unlike the true natural death that commonly stole a human's life, it was a vampire who took his. He was Turned and after a mysterious time during that period, he eventually found Eron and Turned him. Eron was living in Paris at the time and deeply ill. His whole family was dying soul after soul and he had waited to be next. When he did eventually meet death, James found him and chased him away.

When these times occurred no date was announced. A slight wonder grew in Jasper's mind about how long ago those major events occurred, but he chased the thought away. He had to keep reading.

The more he read, he soon began to learn, was no more to grow even more familiar with his estranged sister than to avoid ever really confronting the fact that the author of this journal was now deseased. The faster he read the more alive she really felt to him no matter the truth of it now. It felt like the only way to bear this unforgivable cause. After facing his meltdown and boiling pot of grief inside, he worried to meet that same cruel fate again.

So he read.

Another update! I've had a of time so far so here you go! Hope you enjoyed:)

Sneak Peak:

I met his intense shade of dark eyes and read instantly the massive explosure of hidden emotions. I had to almost force an obscure look to resume on my emotionless expression. The insane jungle of emotions the werewolf juggled with was ridiculous!

"Why is it you're here?" I asked not so rudely but not so nice either.

The boy cut his gaze, staring off at the window before him. He looked awfully distraught.

"I can't sleep," he replied, hanging his head. "I'm always anxious and for some reason sad." He finally met my gaze. "Do you think The Volturi will come after me?" We had discussed the clan before more carefully.

"No." I said. They thought he was dead.

"Oh," his gaze shifted. "Then. . .I guess what I'm trying to really ask here is - can you tell me anything more about this Elizabeth?"