CW: Not detailed, but this chapter contains a car crash

A screech yanks me from the blissful oblivion of sleep.

Making the effort to pry my eyes open reveals that Bell is decidedly not being murdered. Given that her panic looked is directed at her phone means I'm probably not either. New phone. Phil, the jerk, gave us both new phones for Christmas that slide to the side for a keyboard. No more flip phones for us. God, he makes it so hard to hate him. He's perfect for Mom, and he's super nice to us, and he and Dad have gotten along the few times they've interacted. I just can't dislike him even though he's the reason we're in vampire territory. Fae territory? I don't know. I spent most of last night going over possible relationships for my sister like and over obsessed shipper.

Why is it so cold?

"Ari, get up!" Oh. Bell yanked my comforter off.

"Mrrr," I mutter in protest, blindly reaching for my blanket. When did I close my eyes?

"The alarm didn't go off!"

Something soft hits my face. Blinking I see that it's something blue. I drag myself to a sitting position and hold it out. A blue long sleeved dress.

"The power must have gone out or something," Bell says from where she's frantically shoving her legs into jeans. Her hair is still in braids.

Mom, Dad, and Phil had all pitched in to help us build a Forks friendly wardrobe. We are the same size, so we can share pretty much all our clothes, but our styles differ. Most of Bell's picks were flannel shirts and Jeans. Most of mine were long sleeve dresses and leggings of varying thickness.

Like these I think as I am hit in the face with another flying but if fabric from our closet. Oh these are the really warm ones.

"Hurry up or we'll be late," Bell exclaims as she pulls on a red flannel over her cream colored tank top. I make the Herculean effort of climbing out of my oh so inviting bed. "If your not down by the time I'm ready to go, I will leave you behind," She warns as she rushes out the door, hastily undoing her braids as she goes.

I blink slowly at the now empty room and start to peel off my pjs. The cold makes me want to rush to change, but sleep makes my limbs sluggish. Eventually I make it to the bathroom to brush my teeth. In the mirror I see that the dress Bell picked for me matches my hair. An a-line bob with blue tips. I know the blue will fade before my next hair appointment but bleached tips won't look too bad.

I almost nod off a couple times before I decide my teeth are clean enough. Somehow, I stumble down the stairs without breaking my neck. I find Bell in the kitchen.

"Here." She shoves a warm travel mug into my hand. "Looks like Dad already left for work." I take a sip and let out a hum of appreciation at the sweet, chocolaty goodness.

"You are the best sister ever," I say as I lean into her side. She gently pushes me off with a roll of her eyes."

"The best sister would have left you some toast for breakfast." She says wryly. She grabs one of my hands away from the oh so warm mug to drag me into the living room.

"Who needs breakfast when you have the nectar of the gods," I mutter.

Bell places her own travel mug on the coffee table in front of the couch and I am forced to do the same when she shoves a pair of boots at me. Like most of our clothes, the boots are new. Two nearly identical pairs of black snow boots, one for each of us. Bell wanted to get regular rain boots, but I convinced her that these would be more comfortable to walk in. Rain boots have such flat soles. I blink as the laces are taken out of my hands.

"I told you not to stay up too late," Bell mutters as she ties my laces. I must have been spacing out because she already has her boots and her jacket on. My own puffy, dark blue jacket is next to me on the couch.

"Best sister," I say through a yawn as I slip my jacket on.

We pick up our mugs and head for the door. Our backpacks, Bell's black and simple with not enough pockets, mine teal with a wonderful amount of pockets ("No, Bell there is no such thing as too many pockets on a backpack"), hang next to the door, thankfully prepared yesterday. We grab them on our way out.

I slam into Bell and almost drop my wonderful drink. Thank God for lids. Before I can ask why she stopped, she lets out a groan of annoyance.

"It snowed," she says with the most put out voice I've ever heard her use. She trudges towards the Beast, no longer in a hurry despite us still running late. There is, indeed, snow on the ground. No wonder it's so cold I think as I follow. Inside the truck, Bella cranks up the heat. We sip our delicious warm concoctions as we wait for the windows to defrost.

It's been a while since I've seen snow in person. I think the last time was when we were nine. We were spending Christmas break with Dad, and we woke up Christmas Day to a gentle snow fall right out of a movie. After presents in the morning, we went out to play in the snow. It was amazing. Until Bell fell in a snow drift. She ended up soaked and cold and miserable. I'm pretty sure she hates snow more than rain after that.

I blink slowly as Bell pulls out of the drive. Snow. Something wiggles at the back of my mind. It will probably come to me later. For now I can enjoy the scenery. If only my eyelids weren't so heavy.

"Ariel, we're here."

Being gently shaken is a much nicer way of waking up than by your sister screeching. I blink my eyes open and stretch. Bell is right, we are at the school. Based on the kids milling about, we aren't even late. I get out of the car shortly after Bell and sip my hot chocolate. Still warm.

"Looks like Dad put on snow chains for us," Bell calls from where she's crouched by the back driver side tire. "No wonder the drive was so easy." She stands from her crouch and I hum in acknowledgment.

Wait.

My thoughts ground to a screeching halt. Except, it's not my thoughts making that noise.

Do you know what true terror is?

Failing brakes make a terrible sound.

It's a mix of fear and dread so overwhelming it drowns you almost to numbness.

A van careens out of control across the lot..

I thought it was something you could only experience as you faced your own death.

A scream tears its way out of my throat.

I was wrong.

"BELL!"