Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or anything to do with it, however the OC's are all my own. The concept of Jasper being the 'God of War' is something that I've read in a few fics, but I don't know where it originates, so I'm sorry for not giving credit where credit's due! Plus, I have no idea what Louisiana, or Wisconsin are like - I'm from England, so please, forgive any mistakes. Have a great day, and I love you guys!

Camilla POV

July 2020

Madison, Wisconsin

We had arrived at CWA, Central Wisconsin Airport, on July 1st at nearly 12 in the afternoon, starving and exhausted. The day felt bright and the trees flittered like wisps in the wind, although because I was absolutely shattered, I was seeing everything with a dark, gloomy hue. Fortunately, we were able to catch a reasonably cheap minibus, from the complex directly to Madison, with only three breaks; for peeing and eating - otherwise we were cramped in our seat for majority of the four hour car ride to the city.

The streets of Madison were completely different to anything that I could have imagined; the air was less humid, and chillier than I was used to, as well as being generally larger in size. Everyone knew everybody in Baron Rouge, that was the joy in living in such an intimate area - we looked after one another, or at least we were supposed to anyway. Here it felt too big.. And easy to get lost. Even a little bit lonely sometimes. The roads were broader, the houses were exponentially larger, with wider sidewalks and busier looking people, dressed in three piece suits instead of the usual shorts and tee sets I was familiar with. There were more forestry that I was used to seeing, the gardens of most of the homes attached to some kind of shrubbery, and the roads being surrounded by it. It looked so.. Well, scary.

It was easy to say that Clyde was excited, he hadn't stopped staring out of the window the entire time we had been driving, like an excitable puppy of some kind, unless he was asleep, of course, and then, well I barely could close my eyes without being subject to his monstrous snores. Honestly, they were disgustingly loud, and I was glad, for once, that he wasn't sitting next to me. The bus itself was fairly empty; I guess not many tourists came to Madison, however that simply meant more space for us.

Our dad had told us that the movers had assembled everything in the house, however they had left the rest of the decorating and packing away to us, therefore we would have to paint it, if we so desired. Unless the house was an atrocity, I saw no reason to change anything about it, besides making my new bedroom a little more Camilla-esque.

Thankfully, the driver had been kind enough to drop us outside of our new home, and as soon as my feet touched the sequential concrete sidewalk, I knew something was different about this city. It wasn't the brightness, or the openness of the streets, or the unruliness of the foliage encasing us, it was the aura and the atmosphere that resonated from the individual houses.

They all looked the same!

In Baron Rouge, you could walk down the street, and all you'd be able to hear was music, different flavours of sounds pounding out of the open windows that practically begged you to move your feet. The air always smelt like whiskey and freshly charred steak, and, on any day, you were guaranteed to flitter past at least six barbeques taking place on front lawns. It was a beautiful sight, and probably what I'd miss the most about my hometown.

My dad noticed my reserved expression, and threw his toned arm over my hunched shoulders, and said, cheerfully, "It's mighty different, ain't it?," to which I simply nodded, despondently, and trudged up to the face of the house. There were four, white-paned windows, two on the top and the other two on the bottom, wide-set and inviting, and through one, I could already see our old furniture, so I assumed that was the living room.

My dad nudged me, playfully in the shoulder, before sliding the key into the front door, and pushing it open, to reveal a neatly trimmed, carpeted foyer, 14-steps leading upstairs, and a clear way into the kitchen, which was the furthest room from us, and located straight down the corridor. To the right of us, we could see a wide, spacious living room, with laminated floors, our old leather three-seated sofa along the nearest wall, and our television tucked neatly in the corner. What was new, however, was a rectangular mirror opposite the sofa, and a black, dusty fireplace beneath it.

There was a door, leading to the kitchen, I presumed, and when we stepped through it, my suspicions were proven correct; it was, indeed, a kitchen, and a pretty nice one at that. It followed the same scheme as the living room, what with the cream walls, and beige sideboards, corresponding with the chrome fridge and the over-grill-hob combo beside it. Above the sideboard, and beside the window, leading to the backyard, were two cabinets, and beneath them, was our microwave and matching kettle. The floor was vinyl, and the colour of typical slate roofing tiles, and to the far corner, was our rectangular, pine dining table, with a few of our chairs snugly tucked beneath it.

The entrance to the backyard wasn't a usual wooden door, but it was a sliding glass one, and I found that fact quite amusing. The yard was as long as it were wide, and offered enough space to be considered generous. The grass was a healthy green, and there were a few rosebushes decorating the border of the garden, however they looked as though they hadn't been taken care of in a while. There was a wooden patio attached directly to the house, and led down to the stone border of the garden. Clyde was the first to jump outside, and explore, which was something I wasn't at all interested in right now.

While he was otherwise distracted, I crept upstairs, and decided I was going to pick my room before he could. You snooze, you lose, mon cher. I padded through the fawn coloured carpet, that reminded me of the colour of my old bedroom walls, and glanced into the first room I walked by, which was to the immediate right of the staircase. It immediately reminded me of our dad, and I thought that this room suited him the best; it was large enough to accommodate all of his work things, as well as a decent sized bed in the far corner, and a comfy carpet was decorating the floor.

Honestly, it didn't scream 'me' so I moved on to the next one, and when I pushed it open, I was a little surprised to find that it was the bathroom. The walls were tiled, and a myriad of colours; reds, greens, whites and yellows all across the room, and I grinned at how bright it made the vicinity feel. The showerhead was chrome, and the bath was made of a pristine white ceramic material, which matched the toilet and the sink. The third room I came across suited my brother's taste; the television screen was wide, and embedded in the wall, so it was ideal for his gaming systems, and the bed frame was low, barely three inches off of the floor, like the one at our old house, so I knew he'd choose this one.

A little nervously, I nudged open the furthest door, and my eyes widened at how.. Perfect it was for me. The walls were peach, with undertones of mushroom brown, with a cherry wood desk pushed into one corner, with two match closets that were the farthest away from the door. I stepped a little inside, and noticed that the bed frame was made of the same colour wood as the closets, as well as the chest of drawers directly beside the bed, probably for my underwear and any a few books that I would read before bed, hence the lamp atop it too.

The light frame was a conglomeration of pretty little pink roses, all swirling around over shaped filament light bulbs, and the window was rectangular, and directly over the desk in the corner. The curtains were deep mushroom brown colour, and looked like they would flutter, carelessly, when a breeze shone through them. The carpet had russet undertones, and seemed as though they would be very smooth and velvety beneath my feet, if I hadn't been wearing a pair of worn-down Converse.

Strangely enough, I hadn't heard him come in, but my dad surprised me by stating, calmly, "You like it then?," to which I jumped, and span around. I clenched my fist over my heart, and gave him a weak smile, before answering, "Yeah.. It's pretty much perfect for me," and he smiled, widely. "Good, I thought I might have gone too far with the pretty little roses up there," and indicated at the light shade, with a wry smile on his face, "But I'm glad that you're happy wit' it."

Without realising it, I had hugged him tightly, and he fell back slightly, shocked at my sudden show of affection, however he steadied himself, and returned the hug with equal force. He set me down, on my feet, and I heard Clyde come running up the stairs, yelling, "Did she like it? Did she like it?," and I couldn't help but grin at the cohesiveness of my family. Even without our mother, we still worked like a charm, and I wouldn't change anything about it. Especially considering our 17th birthday was coming up soon - the 20th of July, as a matter of fact, and, collectively, we were getting more and more excitable by the day. It was a milestone, in our eyes, even though there wasn't much more that we could do than the age we were now.

"Yeah, I like it, you big lug, come here," and hugged him too. He asked, "So.. You're okay with us movin' here then?," and I grinned, happily. Things were finally turning around. Now, all we had to do was survive the next two years of school, and we'd come out on top. I felt my grin dampen somewhat, and I noticed that my heart trebled in speed. School would start in just over two months, and then, I would have start the 'new girl' process. I shuddered at the thought. It was then that an idea struck me, and I couldn't help but grin, impishly, as I stated, "I'm gonna go check out the town - you comin' with Clyde?"

He simply shook his head and replied, "I gotta go find me a car, I cant do nothin' without some wheels," and, as if he were somewhat stressed about the idea, he rubbed at his wrists. I nodded, then looked to my father, who raised his hands, and lamented, "I gotta catch some sleep. I got work in the mornin'," and retreated to his bedroom, with a wayward flick of his hand. I chuckled, and clasped my hands together, glad for the time I would be able to spend on my own, but first, I would need a long, hot shower, because I felt like my skin was crawling.

-0-

Not an hour later, I was sitting at the back of a bus, headed into the centre of the city, wearing a pair of scruffy white Vans, an open denim shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a plain grey vest beneath it, and a pair of worn black jeans, along with my backpack strewn over my left shoulder, and my headphones jammed in my ears, ignoring anyone, and everyone who even glanced my way. I just wanted to go out for a bit of retail therapy - it worked wonders back home, so I didn't see why it wouldn't work here too.

Instead of focusing on the past, I chose to live in the present, and that is right here with my family, and there was no way I would fuck that up by being bitchy about the move. That wouldn't get me anywhere; I could hardly turn back time and un-sell the house, so there was no point in me being an asshole, and cryin' over spilt milk now.

The bus jerked, slightly, and, thankfully, I was brought out of my own world, and noticed that it was my stop, so I stood, and walked off, thanking the bus driver with a small smile, and going about my way. The air was chilly, but I didn't mind so much. It was a welcomed change to the clammy weather I was used to. Pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind, I hopped towards the fairly busy mall, with a renewed pep in my step.

Little did I know that this move was the catalyst that would spiral my life out of control, and morph me into a person that I wouldn't have ever thought I would be.