[Edit: 3 Oct 2021]

My heart beats too fast as I pull the truck to the side of the road, the tires crunching over gravel and the motor whining. There's a line of flowers on the side of the bridge entering the town – dilapidated and worn from rain and snow and sunshine – testament to lives remembered. Death. But this is not what has me holding my breath.

The novelty of my surroundings does not hold any wonder. My skin feels too tight. I might be grinding my teeth, but that could also be from the dying shudders of the truck.

Mystic Falls is a place with its own residents and graveyards, a town with its own upheavals and fears – hopefully different from those of Forks. No Volturi. No divided packs. No Sam.

I stare down at the steering wheel. I've walked away from my ancestors, my family, the frantic fight between Vampire and wolf; everything that made up home, no matter how dysfunctional it was.

This town, 'Mystic Falls', isn't mine. I don't know if it ever could be. I will never know the depths of its secrets as I had in Forks or how exactly things work. No, here I'm a stranger, an intruder on the land of others.

Did I really think moving to a new town would dissuade my issues? Wasn't I just running away? A new thought intruded, one that made my chest cramp, what if Seth came after me?

I quickly rolled down the window and stuck my head through, gulping in breaths of fresh air, needing something to calm the frantic buzz in my head. The night breeze was lovely, sweeter than what I was used to – there was no sea here – but pleasant nonetheless.

Vaguely I remembered the faces of the Cullen's as I departed, it had been night then, the air crisp and the moon full, illuminating over the pale faces before me. As always, the vampires had stood in their small clumps – Carlisle with Esme, Emmet with Rosalie, Alice and Jasper, Edward with Bella and Renesme. I never thought it would be sad to say good-bye to them, but my chest ached and I felt my eyes burn the slightest, especially when they settled on the little Halfling clinging to her mother's side.

Alice had beamed at me brightly, guaranteeing me that she had given me enough clothes to last two months without being worn twice; Jasper, her partner, had inclined his head and wished me a quiet and deep farewell. Rosalie had been vague and Emmet teasing; Esme had smiled sadly and gently touched my hand; Carlisle had grinned in comfort and placed his hand over Esme's. Bella and Edward had wished me luck, giving me awkward half-hugs and finally left me at the mercy of little Nessy. The young girl demanded I visit her again sometime, hugged me tightly and pressed her small hand to my cheek in a parting gift.

(The scenery of Renesme's mind is spectacular and terrifying in equal measure. Her fingers are cool, but not cold but the images she feeds into my mind are warm.

There's the dapple of sunlight and the rustle of leaves, tiny hands cradling a beetle. Nessy's breath creates fog in the air as she calls for her aunt. Rosalie's smile is strained but she pats the child's head, "What a lovely find," she says around a grimace and the child beams with pride.

She looks up and sees through the window the face of a wolf. She sticks up her hand, waving her tiny bug towards the window. "Look!" She crows and nearly trips over her own feet. But through the pane of glass, meters above her tiny head, Leah smiles back.

I cling to the feeling as Renesme draws her hand away. Her eyes are intelligent and her tiny face is soft, pink in the cheeks. Her smile is wobbly.

"I'll miss you."

As I climb into the truck and look back for the last time, I drink her in.)

With one last assurance from Carlisle that my family would receive my parting letter, I was off.

And alone.

The niggling pain in my chest told me I was completely alone. I was so used to the constant presence of the pack in the back of my head or the assurance that Seth was in his room a few feet away or that Billy was down the next road was gone. The sudden absence of anything tangible, any positive presence left me vulnerable.

I wanted to curl into a ball and squeeze my eyes shut, pretend I was lying in my bed at home and when I opened my eyes I would see the same old stains on the walls.

Yet, I knew that would not happen.

Suddenly sticking my head out the window wasn't enough, I needed solid ground. I threw open the door and scrambled out into the night, choking on emotions that lodged in my throat. When my feet hit the ground, I fell to my knees, my palms following close behind, until I was pressing my forehead to the cool damp grass alongside the road.

The tiny green blades tickled at my cheeks, smearing dew against my hot skin and forced my nose to scrunch. Unexpectedly, I felt more at home, as if somehow this small patch of ground had transported me back to Forks, to the reservation.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed like that, simply leaning against the ground in an attempt to seek comfort, but I was roused by the flashing of headlights as a car passed me by.

My body shifted on instinct and I stood, leaning against the door of the truck as I watched the other vehicle turn. Only then did I become aware of the bright neon lights some distance away. My stomach cramped, I knew a place to eat when I saw it.