"One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying."
Joan of Arc
Unwritten
As I stood outside my old Chevy truck, taking in the crisp air of Fairbanks, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. This city, known for its breathtaking landscapes and freezing temperatures, was a place I had no memories of. It was a blank canvas, waiting for me to paint my new life upon it.
I had grown up fast after losing my mother, Renee, at the young age of sixteen. Her absence had forced me to become independent and self-reliant. Then, I found myself in Forks, living with my father Charlie, only to have him pass away as well three years later. It seemed as though life was determined to throw me curveballs at every turn.
But amidst the darkness, there was a glimmer of light. Jacob, my childhood friend, had been there for me during those difficult times. His unwavering support and love helped me recover from the depths of my depression when I felt like everything was lost. Together, we had created memories and shared dreams of a future together.
You know, Bella, it's like a fresh start," Jacob's voice echoed in my mind, as if he were standing right beside me. "New beginnings and all that."
I chuckled softly, picturing Jacob's warm smile and his dark hair, perpetually tousled. He had been my rock throughout the tumultuous journey that had led me here.
"Jake, you've always got a way with words," I replied, a hint of fondness in my voice. "But you're right. Fairbanks is my chance to rediscover myself, to leave behind the shadows of my past."
He nodded, understanding glimmering in his eyes. "And I'll be here, every step of the way, supporting you."
Our conversation drifted into silence, but the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. I had never doubted Jacob's love for me. Yet, somewhere along the way, our dreams had begun to clash, and the suffocating weight of his expectations had become too much to bear.
"So, Bella," he finally spoke, breaking the stillness. "Have you thought about us? About our future together?"
I sighed, my gaze wandering in the distance. "Jake, I need space to breathe. To find myself without feeling like my wings are clipped."
His brows furrowed, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "But I love you, Bella. I want to build a life with you."
"I know, Jake. I do. But I need to spread my wings, explore the world beyond Forks. Find out who I am outside of this small town," I explained gently, hoping he would understand.
He remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching mine for answers. "I just worry, Bella. What if we lose each other in the process?"
My heart ached, torn between love and the longing for personal growth. "Jake, if our bond is meant to withstand this, it will. We'll find our way back to each other, stronger than ever."
The weight of his worry tugged at my heartstrings, but determination coursed through my veins. "But I can't let fear of losing you hold me back from discovering my true self. I owe it to myself and to you, Jake."
As he took a step closer, his hand reaching for mine, I knew that this journey would be complex and uncertain. Yet, I couldn't deny the fire within me, fueled by the unexpected discovery of a letter from my mother.
One day, as I was rummaging through old boxes in my childhood bedroom, I stumbled upon a letter from my mother Renee. Her words were a bittersweet reminder of her love and guidance, even in her absence. My mother was undeniably free-spirited, albeit a tad on the irresponsible side. She embraced each day as if it were her last, living in the moment.
Eventually, I found myself shouldering the responsibility of managing our household, paying the bills, and handling our finances. Despite the challenges, we shared a deep friendship. She encouraged me to live life to its fullest, to conquer my fears. It was almost as if she sensed I needed a fresh start, a chance to break free from the constraints that held me back. She often remarked how much I resembled my father, and now I fully comprehend why.
Charlie met his end while on the job as the chief of police, pursuing a criminal who ultimately took his life. Despite his unwavering dedication, Charlie never ventured far from our hometown of Forks. He lived his days in a repetitive cycle, with the world losing its allure. I've come to the resolute decision that I don't want to follow in those footsteps.
With newfound determination, I packed my belongings into the worn Chevy truck, the money left by my grandmother Marie serving as my ticket to a fresh start. Fairbanks, Alaska became my destination, a place where I could unleash the wings that yearned to soar, far away from the suffocating expectations that had held me captive for far too long.
The towering snow-capped mountains and the crisp winter air greeted me, as if offering solace and a fresh start. I found a place near the university campus, eager to immerse myself in the world of literature as an English major.
As I settled into my small apartment and prepared for college, I couldn't help but feel a
sense of liberation. Fairbanks offered me a sense of anonymity, a chance to redefine myself without the weight of my past dragging me down. The breathtaking landscapes that surrounded the city were a constant reminder of the beauty that life still held.
The first day of classes was a whirlwind of nerves and excitement. The lecture hall buzzed with activity as students found their seats. I picked an inconspicuous spot towards the back and settled in, still grappling with the twinge of nervous energy. My heart raced as I watched my fellow students, all animated and engaged in conversations, forming friendships that would surely define their college experience.
I was different, though. I preferred the solace of my own thoughts and the company of books over idle chit-chat. But as the professor stepped to the lectern, my focus shifted.The professor, Dr. Morrison, was an imposing figure with silver hair and a voice that resonated through the room like a seasoned storyteller.
He began discussing the syllabus, but my mind wandered briefly to the magnificent snowy landscapes I had witnessed earlier that morning. This was a world far removed from the confines of my previous life, and I reveled in the freedom it offered.
As Dr. Morrison continued speaking, I observed my fellow students, each with their unique expressions of curiosity and determination. Some were engaged in hushed conversations, forming early connections. But as for me, I preferred to keep to myself, at least for now.
I pulled out a notebook and started jotting down notes, trying to soak up every bit of information he shared. The material was riveting, and I found myself immersed in the subject. Time seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, the class had ended.
As I gathered my belongings, a friendly face approached me. It was a fellow student, Bree, who had sat in the row ahead. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice that you seemed just as captivated by the lecture as I was," she said with a warm smile.
I returned her smile, grateful for the gesture of friendliness. "Yes, it's a fantastic start to the semester. I'm Bella, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, Bella," Bree replied. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before."
I nodded, feeling a surge of excitement. "Yes, I'm a transplant from out of state, looking for a fresh start. Fairbanks seemed like the perfect place for that."
Bree's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "That's fascinating! I've always lived here, so I can show you around and help you settle in if you'd like."
I couldn't help but appreciate her offer. "That would be wonderful, Bree."
We exchanged contact information, and I left the lecture hall with a newfound friend. It seemed that Fairbanks was not only a place for me to embark on a journey of self-discovery but also a place to forge connections and friendships.
After the lecture, students formed groups, discussing the class and their shared interests. I, on the other hand, gathered my things and made my way to the library. It was my sanctuary, a place where I could dive into the pages of books and lose myself in worlds far removed from reality.
As I walked through the towering shelves, I couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversations around me. Eventually, I found a cozy corner tucked away from the crowd. The smell of well-worn books surrounded me, and I took a deep breath, finding comfort in the familiar scent. The weight of the past was still with me, but today marked a new chapter, a chance to redefine myself.
In the solitude of that corner, I opened my first book for the semester. As the words on the page transported me to a different time and place, I couldn't help but smile. The pages held the promise of new beginnings.
One chilly evening, as I made my way home from a study session at the university library, destiny took an unexpected turn. A blinding snowstorm obscured my vision, and before I could react, my car collided with another vehicle. The impact was jarring, sending shards of glass flying and my heart pounding in my chest.
Dazed and disoriented, I found myself in the aftermath of the accident, surrounded by the sounds of sirens and concerned voices. As I tried to gather my thoughts, a figure emerged from the chaos – a man with golden eyes and a calm presence that seemed to defy the chaos around us. It was as if he had materialized out of thin air.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle yet commanding.
I nodded, still in shock from the accident. "I... I think so."
He extended a hand to help me out of my crumpled car, his touch sending a strange jolt through me. "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Let me take a look at you, just to be safe."
As he examined me, his touch was surprisingly soothing, dissipating the fear and anxiety that had gripped me moments before. There was an air of mystery about him, something that drew me in, and yet I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.
After ensuring that I was physically unharmed, Dr. Cullen offered to drive me home, sensing my trembling nerves. We ventured through the snow-covered streets in a companionable silence, a respite from the chaos. It was in that moment that I realized how much I appreciated his presence, how his calm demeanor seemed to bring a sense of peace.
As we neared my home, I finally broke the silence. "Thank you, Dr. Cullen. I don't know what I would've done without your help."
He flashed a warm smile, and for a fleeting second, I caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "You're very welcome. I'm just glad you're safe. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."
Weeks turned into months, and the memory of that fateful encounter refused to fade. Soon, vivid and haunting dreams began to haunt my nights, whisking me away to a different time, an unfamiliar life. His eyes were a beacon of familiarity in a strange setting, and it felt as if we had crossed paths in some other existence, as if our souls were inextricably linked.
In of one of these dreams, I discovered myself in the form of a young teenage girl, my leg aching with pain from a perilous fall off a towering tree. The surreal panorama around me intensified as my mother, her face etched with worry, urged me to move quickly, her voice filled with anxiety.
"Can you walk, sweetheart?" she asked frantically.
As we rushed to the local doctor, hope dwindled when we learned that he was away for the day, leaving us in a state of despair. It was in this dire moment that an unexpected twist occurred, revealing Dr. Carlisle, donned in archaic attire, stepping forward to take charge of my injury.
Carlisle offered a glimmer of hope as he spoke kindly, "Fear not, I can help. I have some knowledge of tending to injuries. Let's get her comfortable."
In the midst of pain and uncertainty, a connection blossomed between this Carlisle and me. With tears welling up, I found myself opening up to him.
"Thank you, Dr. Cullen," I said tearfully, my voice quivering. "This means so much. I... I wanted to be a teacher someday."
With a warm smile, he encouraged me to strive to make my wish come true.
As time passed, the nightmares intensified, blurring the boundary between reality and fantasy. I began to yearn for these visions, craving the solace they provided. With each dream, my connection to Dr. Cullen grew stronger, as if an invisible thread tethered us together.
Most nights, I awoke with only the memory of his distant golden eyes, but one particular dream stood out. I was now a young woman, perhaps the same girl from earlier, only older. She was married to a cruel man who oppressed her for her inability to conceive.
In this haunting dream, her husband's harsh words cut through her like a jagged blade. "You're worthless, unable to give me an heir. I should have married someone else!" he spat with contempt.
She fled when she discovered her pregnancy, clutching her belly, desperate to protect the life growing within her. Yet, her hopes were mercilessly crushed when her baby died shortly after birth. Tears streamed down her face as she held the lifeless infant, whispering through her sobs, "No, not my baby! Please, not my baby!"
The woman, utterly desolate and devoid of hope, found herself standing on the precipice of a cliff. In the depths of her despair, she muttered to herself, "There's no hope left... I can't bear this pain any longer." These were the tormenting nights that left me trembling and tearful.
As time progressed, I sought answers. My research led me down a rabbit hole of myths, legends, and tales of reincarnation and soulmates. I turned to Bree, who persuaded me to consult her mother, Simi, a woman with a unique heritage. She had been the daughter of an Aleut shaman and possessed the gift of foresight.
"Bree," I said one evening, sitting across from her in her cozy living room, "I've been digging deeper into these myths, and I can't shake the feeling that they might hold some truth."
Bree nodded thoughtfully, her eyes filled with curiosity. "You should talk to my mom, Simi. She's got some fascinating insights into this kind of stuff."
In Simi's cozy home, an hour's drive from Fairbanks, we engaged in a heartfelt conversation. She greeted me with warmth and care and listened intently as I shared my perplexing experiences.
"Simi," I began, "I've been experiencing some strange things, and I can't help but wonder if there's a deeper meaning to it all."
Simi's wise eyes met mine, and she revealed that the spirit of the great wolf had visited her. "I had a dream not too long ago," she confided, "and it felt like a message. Tell me, what's been troubling you?"
According to her, I stood at a critical juncture in my life, and a path fraught with danger lay ahead. She described the one I longed for, without me mentioning his name, as a creature of the night.
"He's not like others," she said, her voice filled with a mix of concern and wisdom. "There's something unusual about him."
I left her house that day, my heart heavy with apprehension. Could it be possible that Dr. Carlisle Cullen and I shared a bond that transcended time? Was this all mere coincidence, or did it hold a deeper, mystical significance?
As I drove back with Bree, I couldn't help but voice my lingering doubts. "Bree, do you think this is all just a strange coincidence, or is there something more to it?"
Bree glanced at me, her brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know, but my mom has seen and felt things that most people can't explain. There might be a reason for all of this, something beyond our understanding."
The mysteries of my connection with Dr. Cullen continued to weigh on my mind, as the enigmatic bond between past and present unfolded before me.
Staying awake most of the nights had been taking its toll on me. I barely had any disposition and I didn't feel like doing anything. It got to the point that even following classes was difficult, and without much of an appetite, I ended up looking a bit decrepit.
Bree started calling me the "walking dead". Her mother, Simi, even sent me an amulet, a silver chain with an amber stone. She said that the protection of something that was once alive and turned to stone was symbolic to me and would offer protection. I didn't quite understand what she meant but, in the absence of a better answer, I decided to use the amulet.
"Hey, are you okay?" Bree asked with concern one evening, noticing my exhaustion.
I sighed, running a hand through my disheveled hair. "I'm just so tired, Bree. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."
To make matters worse, Jacob's constant calls urging me to return to Forks were becoming overwhelming. Initially, I tried to explain that I needed time in Fairbanks to finish my college, but he didn't seem to grasp it, eventually leading me to block his number.
"Come on, Bella, you've been gone so long," Jacob's voice was laced with frustration.
I sighed, "I've got to focus on my studies, Jake. I promise, we'll figure this out, but right now, I need to stay here."
In the midst of this turmoil, Bree chimed in, "Bella, it's essential to prioritize your education. Don't let anyone disrupt your goals."
Meanwhile, I started a part-time job at a small bookstore just fifteen minutes from my apartment. The work was undemanding and provided a much-needed distraction.
My co-worker, Emily, noticed my preoccupation one day and asked, "Is everything okay, Bella? You seem a little stressed."
I nodded, offering a weak smile. "Just some personal stuff, but I'll get through it."
The situation with Jacob seemed unsolvable, and it weighed heavily on my mind.
One day, as I organized books on a shelf, the bell above the door chimed, signaling a customer's arrival. I called out, asking for a moment, but lost my balance and began to fall. In a fortunate turn of events, Carlisle caught me before I hit the ground. In his arms, I felt an unexpected sense of comfort and security.
"Whoa there, are you alright?" Carlisle asked with a concerned expression, breaking the silence.
I let out a nervous laugh, "I seem to be making a habit of these accidents, don't I?"
From that day on, the bookstore became a frequent setting for our conversations. We talked for hours about books, literature, and more. Dr. Cullen's extensive knowledge and his passion for storytelling were truly infectious. I found myself captivated by his profound understanding of the written word.
It was a tranquil Saturday afternoon, and I was filling in for Emily at the bookstore. Settled in a cozy nook surrounded by shelves of weathered books, I picked up my all-time favorite, "Pride and Prejudice," and began to read. The story was familiar, etched in my memory, and soon, I drifted off to sleep.
Hours passed, and I awoke to someone gently shaking me. It had grown dark, nearing evening, and I found myself in the gaze of Carlisle's concerned eyes. He inquired if everything was alright, mentioning that he'd observed my increasing introspection and the toll it had taken on my appearance. With some hesitation, I decided to confide in him, sharing the dreams that had been haunting me and the challenge they posed to my daily life.
"Dr. Cullen, there's something I need to ask you," I ventured, my voice trembling with anticipation.
He looked at me, his golden eyes filled with a mix of intrigue and understanding. "Please, call me Carlisle. What is it that you want to know, Bella?"
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "These dreams I've been having... they feel so real, so vivid. It's as if I'm living someone else's life. And whenever I'm around you, I feel this undeniable connection. Could it be possible that we were... connected in another life?"
A contemplative expression crossed Carlisle's face, his eyes searching mine. "Bella, what you're describing... it's not entirely impossible. There are theories about reincarnation, about souls finding each other across different lifetimes. It's a concept that has fascinated me for centuries."
My heart raced at his words, a mixture of excitement and trepidation flooding through me. "Who do you think I could be in these dreams? Who am I connected to?"
Carlisle hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating the weight of his words. "Bella, in these dreams, I believe you are... Esme."
As I shared the details of these dreams with Carlisle, he listened intently, his expression a mix of empathy and understanding. "Bella, these dreams are a window into our shared past. Esme was the first woman I ever fell in love with."
A whirlwind of emotions consumed me as I grappled with the weight of this revelation. I was connected to Esme, to Carlisle, through the threads of time. But what did it mean for my present, for the life I was living now?
"That day," Carlisle began, "I'll never forget it. It was in 1911 in Ohio when I first met Esme. She was just 16 and had taken a fall from a tree. Since the local doctor was away, I stepped in and treated her leg."
Our conversation took a poignant turn as Carlisle spoke, and I couldn't help but ask, "So, you met her, but then what happened?"
He continued, "Esme left a profound impact on me, but I moved on shortly after that first meeting."
Curiosity piqued, I probed, "And then, you said you met again in 1921, but that encounter was less pleasant. What happened?"
Carlisle's expression turned somber. "Yes, in 1921, I was called to her deathbed after a failed suicide attempt, brought on by the loss of her child. I recognized her as the young woman I had treated before, and I tried to save her, but it was too late."
I couldn't help but feel the weight of the tragedy in Carlisle's story. However, something didn't quite add up, and I had to ask, "Wait, Carlisle, if you met Esme in 1911 and you were already a doctor, you should have passed away by now. Nearly a century has gone by. How is this possible?"
Carlisle looked at me seriously, and I realized that the next part of the story would be even more bewildering than what I had heard so far. "Tell me, Carlisle, how is this possible?" I inquired.
He took my hands in his and began to share a story that would boggle my mind. "I was born in the late 1600s in London, England, the son of an Anglican pastor. My father was responsible for leading hunts for beings of evil, like witches, werewolves, and vampires. When he grew too old to continue these hunts, he placed me in charge."
Perplexed, I interjected, "Hunts for vampires? Witches? This sounds like something out of a dark tale."
Carlisle continued, "At first, I was a disappointment to my father, but I eventually stumbled upon a coven of true vampires living in the sewers. During a confrontation with them, I was bitten and transformed into a vampire myself. To avoid being slaughtered, I hid in a potato cellar during the transformation."
My eyes widened with astonishment. "You were a vampire, Carlisle?"
He nodded. "Yes, and I was repulsed by what I had become. I tried to end my own existence multiple times, but instead, I withdrew deep into the woods, away from humans, unable to justify taking an innocent life. But one day, a herd of deer passed by, and I attacked without remorse, realizing I could survive on animals."
Listening intently, I inquired, "So, you've spent centuries perfecting your ability to abstain from human blood?"
Carlisle nodded and added, "Indeed. I also decided to study medicine and eventually became a doctor, dedicating my existence to saving lives."
"Wow," I murmured, trying to wrap my head around the astonishing story. "And then, you fell in love with Esme?"
He smiled warmly, "Yes, I never thought I'd feel that way again until I met you. In fact, I believe you might be her reincarnation."
Dumbfounded by the revelations, I stammered, "This is all so much to take in."
Carlisle understood my surprise and offered, "I'll walk you home. Here's my phone number. When you're ready, feel free to look for me."
It took me longer than I had anticipated to call Carlisle, as he had stopped coming to the bookstore. For a while, I even wondered if that night had all been a dream. At the same time, Jacob's persistent calls left me feeling torn.
Then, unexpectedly, Simi paid me a visit, adding another layer of uncertainty to my life. She shared that the wolf spirit had appeared to her once again, delivering a warning.
I shared that my troubling dreams had finally ceased, and although I hadn't disclosed the true nature of my connection with Carlisle, she reassured me, "Bella, even though I don't know all the details, I don't condemn you. You must follow your heart."
Still wavering, I admitted, "I'm afraid he might be in love with a person who doesn't exist anymore. Maybe he just likes me because of those dreams."
At this point, Simi decided to share a story with me, a story about the guardians of her tribe and their deep connection with shapeshifters.
She began, "In the past, one of our people could transform into a wolf to protect our tribe. He was a guardian."
"Wow, that's fascinating," I replied, captivated by the tale.
She continued, "And my mother, she was in love with one of the 'cold ones,' the enemies of our people. He professed his love and planned to run away with her, but she feared her family's reaction."
Curious, I inquired, "What happened next?"
Simi explained, "The Alfa, the leader of the werewolves at the time, discovered her secret relationship with the vampire. He killed him."
I whispered, "That's heartbreaking."
Simi went on, "My mother ended up marrying the Alfa and gave birth to me, but in the village, she was despised. She was considered a traitor. After giving birth to me, my mother took her own life. When I grew up and learned the true story, I decided to leave."
Touched by her story, I nodded and said, "Thank you for sharing that with me."
She concluded with a warm smile, "I wanted you to know that you should listen to your heart to make the right decision."
I turned to Simi, offering her a ride. She acknowledged my gesture with a tight smile and said, "Thank you, Bella."
As night fell and the icy streets stretched ahead, we engaged in a conversation about the traditions of her tribe. I shared, "The Quileutes in Forks also have stories about guardian wolves."
Arriving at her house, she insisted, "You should spend the night here, Bella."
Considering my impending test the next day, I explained, I needed to study. So I decided to head back, even though the radio warned of an approaching blizzard.
The journey back started smoothly, about half an hour without any issues. As the weather worsened, with the snow and wind making visibility poor, I lost control of the steering, and the car tumbled down a hill.
When I regained consciousness, I struggled to open my eyes due to the intense pain. It felt like there was fire in my veins, and I endured what seemed like an endless ordeal. Finally, my eyes fluttered open, and I saw the world through a different lens, as if everything was more defined. I found myself in the middle of a snowy forest. A presence lingered nearby, and someone called out my name, "Bella."
Overwhelmed by an insatiable thirst, I followed the sound of a beating heart instinctively. It led me to a bear, and I drank its blood, followed by six other animals, including two deer, a wolf, and a mountain lion. As the thirst slightly subsided, I heard footsteps, and I assumed a defensive stance. But when I locked eyes with the stranger, I realized it was Carlisle, and my memory suddenly flooded back.
After calming down, I asked Carlisle about the accident, recalling nothing beyond it. He explained, "I had received a call that night from an anonymous woman who directed me to your location, warning that your life was in risk. When I arrived, your pulse was weak, and I feared losing you once again."
I hugged him at that moment, and he shared that he had carried me to a safer location, far enough away to bite me and initiate the process of transforming me into a vampire. Four days had passed since then, and Carlisle suggested we go to the house of his friends in Denali, as it was still too risky for me to be around humans.
His friends also survived on animal blood. During this conversation, he held my hand, and I sensed the strength of our connection. I couldn't tell if my feelings matched the intensity of his, but at that point, I was eager to find out.
Life had once again thrown me a curveball, but this time, I wanted to believe that what I had received was a blessing. This marked just the beginning, and for the first time, I didn't have to start writing everything by myself.