The warmth I felt a moment before was stripped away in a heartbeat and replaced with piercing cold. The peaceful silence disappeared and was replaced with loud beeps and voices. Bright lights invaded my vision and sent throbbing pangs through my skull.
I was just born, and like any baby would, I cried. It was nearly impossible not to, because while in my mind I wasn't a baby, physically I was. And it was my baby body's instinct to cry. It would be hard for me to control my reactions for a while, simply because my body and brain weren't developed enough to have rational responses.
This life was the same as all my other lives had been, except for one small detail. I hadn't been given to my mom yet, and usually I would have been given to her by now. I felt as fine as a fresh newborn baby could feel, so there weren't any medical problems. Why wasn't I going to my mom? Did she have some complications? No, she couldn't, there weren't enough doctors talking frantically, and the sound of the beating on the machine was steady.
I got my answer when after I was finished getting checked up on, a nurse wheeled me to another room. I could hear a man's voice going over paperwork with someone, likely one of my parents.
"Look who's here!" The nurse exclaimed, smiling as we walked inside. The man stopped talking while two people—my parents, I guessed—gushed over how cute I was. The woman who gave birth to me must have given me up for adoption.
One of my new parents picked me up, and immediately alarm bells went off in my head and my baby instincts caused me to cry.
This person who held me and tried to soothe me was cold. And not just a little colder than I was, either—they were freezing, ice-cold to the touch. Most things seemed cold as a baby, but never, not once, were they this cold. This wasn't person-cold, this was vampire-cold. My new adoptive parents were vampires. And seeing as a vampire killed me in every life I had experienced, this life was going to be the shortest one yet.
I decided to try to be the best, most well-behaved baby I could possibly be, in hopes of extending my life even for a day. I didn't want to risk them getting too annoyed with me and deciding to kill me, so I stayed good, the perfect image of a desirable child.
My family was quite large, which brought so much more risk to my life. My parents were Rosalie and Emmett. My grandparents were Esme and Carlisle. My aunts were Bella and Alice. My uncles were Jasper and Edward. My cousin was Nessie. They were all vampires, except maybe Nessie. I wasn't sure what she was. She might've also been adopted like I was—I wasn't sure.
Some of them had special abilities, which, I overheard them saying, didn't work on me. I was glad for that. One less thing to worry about in this life.
On top of all those people in my family, more people were often in the house that seemingly had no relation to my family. Mostly guys, who didn't interact too much with me and most of the time seemed to not even like anyone but each other and Nessie.
Another chaotic thing about this life was my eyesight. On top of my huge vampire family and the random group of guys basically living at our house, I was practically blind. My grandpa was a doctor, you would think he'd realize my lack of being able to see with any sort of clarity, but nope. I was practically blind, and I couldn't even tell anyone about it. Which brings me to the last thing that brings chaos to this life, although I chose this part.
I was five years old now, and I hadn't spoken a single word. There was a reason for this, I didn't just do it for fun, although sometimes it was kinda fun. I decided when I was about two years old that if I talked with my family and got close to them, I wouldn't be able to leave them whenever I found the chance to, and it was in my best interest to leave as soon as I could. So, I stopped talking to anyone. A side effect of this was that they all thought I was autistic, which I just embraced.
The symptoms they thought I had were, of course, the lack of talking, as well as not making eye contact (lack of eye contact was also a side effect of just the poor eyesight and not being able to see their eyes in the first place), and my 'obsession with unusual activities' which they thought was my constant playing with blocks (they were the easiest to play with without eyesight). It wasn't enough symptoms to get an actual diagnosis from a specialist, but they held onto their belief that I had it or something like it. I wouldn't do anything to disprove their theory, but I wouldn't do more to prove it, either.
It was inconvenient at times, the not talking. Like, when I wanted someone to get me something or when my lack of eyesight was really getting on my nerves, but overall it was worth it. I couldn't let myself get close to them. They hadn't tried to hurt me yet, but that could change in the blink of an eye—literally. I had to be prepared to leave as soon as I could.
Tomorrow was going to be my first day of school, and if I managed to find a way out, then I would. It might take a little bit of time, I would have to figure out the layout of the school to be able to get out, but I would do it. I had to. I didn't want to die so young, I wanted to live my life, so I would make that happen.
"Your first day of school is tomorrow, Sybil—" Oh, and another thing; they named me the same name I had in my very first life, which felt odd but added a sense of familiarity to everything, "—are you excited?" My mom asked.
I, as usual, didn't say anything or even really acknowledge her. Mom kept on talking as if we were having a conversation.
"I'm going to wake you up at six-thirty tomorrow, okay? We'll get dressed and eat breakfast, then there will be a little time before we have to leave for school. We're getting there a little early so that way you can meet the teacher beforehand and your dad and I can stay with you for a few minutes. Then once we're gone you'll be with your teacher all day, until three o'clock when we will come pick you up again."
I was stacking blocks as I usually did—I liked having something to do with my hands, and it was all I could do with the stuff I had access to—and didn't do anything to show her that I heard and understood.
"Now it's time for bed," she said. "Here's your pajamas."
I took the clothes from her and changed myself, not wanting her to help. I climbed into bed and tucked myself in. She read me a book but I ignored it and fell asleep quickly. It took a while to get used to sleeping around vampires when I was younger, but I had to get used to it, so I did.
When I was woken up the next morning, I just went with the flow. Put on whatever clothes Mom gave me, ate the food, and waited until we went down to the school.
The school wasn't too big, and seeing as we got there so early, it was pretty empty.
"Good morning, you must be the Cullens," my teacher said.
"Yes, I'm Rosalie, and this is Emmett, and our daughter here is Sybil," Mom said.
The blob of color I assumed was my teacher crouched down in front of me.
"Hey there, Sybil! How about I show you to your seat and you can color in some pretty pictures while I talk to your parents?"
She took my hand and brought me over to a seat where by touch I could tell there was a paper and a couple of crayons, so I started randomly drawing. Nothing specific, just some shapes and squiggles. They were just things to do to keep my hands busy.
I didn't bother listening to whatever the teacher and Mom and Dad were talking about. I was mostly zoned out, and the next thing I knew, other kids were sitting around the room at other tables and the same one I was at.
"We have to leave now, Sybil. Will you be okay here?" Mom asked, a hint of worry coloring her voice.
I thought about giving a slight nod in response, but I decided against it. I went this long without really communicating with them, I couldn't end that now. She didn't wait longer than a few seconds for a response before she kissed the top of my head and walked out with Dad.
The day was relatively easy, despite my fears of it going badly. My teacher, Mrs. Kim, helped me know what I was supposed to be doing and where I would be going. Whenever we had to go out of the classroom, she had me walking at the front of the lines and she held my hand, so I didn't need to worry about running into people or walls. Overall, the first day was pretty successful.
I didn't get any time to find out how I could get out undetected, but throughout the year I had no doubt I could find a way. After all, if I didn't, I would die. So I had to get out, and I had to do it successfully on the first try. There was no way around that.
