Chapter 3

The slow descent.

I tried not to fall asleep as I sat in the chair Bella had not long ago abandoned. I rubbed my eyes, as the first peeks of morning light began to stream through the window. If this really is a dream, would I not have awoken by now? I was too excited at the prospect of it being real to risk falling asleep in this world, only to wake in another. I thought about what Edward had done to Bella, abandoning her in the woods and leaving her defenseless to a murderous vampire who would soon be due to pay her a visit. Only they wouldn't find Bella. I drew in a sharp breath at the realization and sprung to my feet. If I am going to make this right for her, I'm going to need help. I walked to the bedroom door and slowly turned the handle, unsure of what I'd see on the other side. I opened it wide enough to peek through, before releasing a breath and opening it further. Grey carpet, grey walls, fish plaque. Charlie's house.

I slowly left the room and descended the stairs. I've never attempted to be stealthy before, but I don't imagine each creak of the staircase was doing me any favours. I shot a glance at the loungeroom and noticed a booted foot poking over an arm of the couch. Charlie. I hadn't heard him come in. My face flushed as I skirted towards the entry, grabbing Bella's coat and boots before opening the front door and slipping out. Morning dew greeted me, making the scattered wildflowers in Charlie's yard glow. It was simultaneously breathtaking and yet so much more mundane than I ever envisioned.

I had planned to walk to a bus stop, but upon the realization that I don't have any money and that there is a red rust bucket glaring at me from the middle of the driveway, I decided to try my hand at right-lane driving. I dug into Bella's coat pocket and produced the key to her truck. Even it groaned when I tried to start it; as if to say, you don't belong here. I was relieved when it started on the third attempt, and that Charlie only came stumbling onto the porch stoop once I had reached the streets bend, driving out of sight.

Chapter 4

Finding La Push was harder than I had imagined. Bordering each side of the road was dense vegetation; much of which covered, if not fully engulfing, the street signs. I drove for most of the morning before finally pulling into a small unpaved carpark. I turned off the engine, very grateful that Bella had left me with a full tank. Then again, maybe it is a sign I should be thanking her optimistic father. When my breath began to fog the glass, I realized it was probably time to peel myself out of the driver's seat and head into the small corner shop to ask for directions.

Beneath my feet, melted snow mixes with soil, turning to slush. It coats Bella's boots and I try my best to scrape it off on the tattered door matt before entering. The bell above the shop's door rang as I walked through, and the faint sound of a tv drifted from behind the counter. An elderly man sat in a recliner, seemingly oblivious to my presence. I greeted him as I moved closer, but after a quick and begrudged glance in my direction he turned his attention back to his show.

"Don't mind him." A soft voice called to me, and when I glanced towards the back entrance I was greeted with an equally lovely smile. At first, I didn't register its slant or the three jagged scars that marred the right side of her face. Emily walked towards me and set a heavy box of produce on the counter. "If you aren't a regular, he won't serve you. It's not personal, he is just set in his ways. I'm Emily," she reached out her hand to shake mine.

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I took it, returning her smile. "I know." My response seemed to puzzle her, as her brow quirked in questioning.

"Okay," she gave an unsure chuckle and grabbed the box of produce off the counter, carrying it to the nearby stand. She began unloading it as she continued, "How so?"

"There are a lot of things I know. " I cringed at how utterly corny that sounded. "About your world." I added. Emily stopped what she was doing; turning to look at me. She opened her mouth to speak. "Before you ask," I interjected, "it's hard to explain. But you're good with weird, so please save me from explaining this twice. Can you take me to Sam?"

"Sam?" Emily seemed perplexed by my request, and I watched as her eyes scanned my face, trying to decipher what was going on. Who is this muddy girl with a strange accent, and matted hair; adorned with a winter coat, cropped summer pajama pants and a worn pair of boots, with no socks?

"If you can take me to him, I promise I'll explain." There was only a moment of hesitation before Emily gave a small nod, apparently deciding that there are odder things in the world than a scrawny lost girl.