I was given a new life in the year 1918, I was nothing but a boy of seventeen then. I was born into a privileged life, but I hated it. I wanted to become my own person, make my own fortune and not have to depend on the money of my father, whom I never saw anymore. I was mad and stupid, not a great combination. I left for New York on a cold December day, my mothers cries still haunting me. There was nothing anyone could have done to keep me from the vision of my future.
I arrived with nothing but a bag and it wasn't long before I found myself in a bar drinking my fill and lamenting my life. In retrospect, I now know that I was beyond help. I hated my Mother for yielding to my Father, a man who only cared about his wealth. I hated having loved him as much as I did even if I never saw him. I hated myself for not getting out as fast as I could. I drank and drank until I forgot who I was and it was in the alley of that bar where my life was taken.
Till this day the memory of my turning is still hazy, I remember the horrible pain of being torn apart by teeth and nails. The metallic smell of my blood and my screams as I tried to scream for help. I was almost drained and till this day I do not know who made me the monster that I am. I was left to my demise, bleeding and broken, the poison from the bite spreading through my system.
I don't know what would have become of me if Carlisle hadn't found me. He picked my battered being from the ground and took me to his home. He stayed with me throughout the change. I had never been more grateful for someone in all my life. It took 3 days of horrible, excruciating pain to become what I am now, I should have listened to my mother when she told me not to go.