Monday is a day considered as boring and difficult to face, after a weekend where we hide away from our responsibilities. However, this day has never seemed so exciting to me. After class, the car of Jared parks in a parking lot whose gray is similar to the one which shades the sky. A brown sign presents "Forks City Hall." The town hall is a fairly simple building, our city being relatively modest, consisting of three floors. The white paint is old but the smell of freshly cut lawn is pleasant.

- You're sure ? Jared asks me for the umpteenth time, questioning the point of doing this research.

According to him, I do not have nightmares anymore and Katherine is stuck in her cave, so there is no reason to worry. Maybe she is now to weak to control my mind during my sleep. However, I feel that we are far from the whole truth, that there is something to discover. I have to know.

- Sure and certain. I respond, taking his hand in mine.

When we walk through the door, a secretary who is staring at the clock while waiting to be able to come home welcomes us with a morose expression.

- You have an appointment ? Her annoyed voice asks to us.
- No, I'm coming to see my father. Tyler Cameron, he works in the archives and he forgot something at home. Jared responds confidently, before we go into the elevator up to the second floor where his father works.

He lies with an easy way. It is disconcerting. I just hope he doesn't use this ability when we are together, and I hope he never will. As for me, I don't know if I am a good liar. Suddenly, the other Quileute pins me against a wall of the elevator going up, to kiss my neck.

- We can always go back to my car. His voice is intense, in my ear.
- I don't know, this research is important ... I pronounce between two sighs, it makes me feel so good.
- Or on your couch. He adds, making me giggle stupidly.

As my boyfriend covers the skin of my neck with kisses, I glance at our reflection in the mirror. It makes me question the idea of lying more seriously. I lie well to my mother, of course, but let's say that it is easier to disconnect from our emotions to lie about banal things rather than a real capacity to invent lies to get what we really want ... Maybe I make excuses for own lies ? That wouldn't surprise me. I am my worst enemy.

- Hi Dad ! Jared shouts, as he walks through the door of his father's ridiculously small office without knocking.

The latter is already packing his things in his work briefcase. The three of us are cramped, but at least he has his own office. The town hall's budget is nothing grandiose. He greets me kindly. It is funny to see him in his work environment. His desk is covered in a pile of papers, his trash can is overflowing with packages of snacks that look to me like they came from the vending machine in the hallway, and several photos of his wife and children cover the brown walls.

- Hey son, what are you doing here ? Replies his father, ruffling the hair of the tall guy.
- We need to do some research for an assignment, and since you work here we were wondering if we could dig through the archives. The wolf explains casually, while I remain silent.
- I just finished but the building close in two hours, maybe you can come another day ? I could help you in your research, it's my specialty. Tyler suggests, turning off his computer.
- It would have been better but it's for tomorrow.
- An assignment for tomorrow ? And you start now ? Logical. Ironically Mr. Cameron faces the teenager who shrugs his shoulders, looking carefree.

After that, Jared's father gives him a pair of keys which opens the archive room, repeating several times "Don't even think about going home if you lose my keys", with an expression that is supposed to be threatening but which amuses us. He warns us that this is a favor and we promise to be discreet. After leaving the office, I whisper to Jared, "Why didn't you let your dad help us ?" He knows more than anyone here."

- How could we tell him that we were doing research about a certain Katherine who resembles you like your own reflection ? He's not even aware of the reality of the legends, it would give him a heart attack. Jared answers with an arched eyebrow.

The room reserved for the archives is huge. It must represent half a floor. The place contains countless uninteresting documents and the most valuable are in glass cases. There is not much to know about the town of Forks : located in the state of Washington, between the beach and the mountains, a little bit more than 3000 inhabitants, including 1500 households, a major lumber and fishing industry, a high school, a few stores, a museum, a reservation which represents its own microcosm ... The whole area of Forks and even more belonged to the Quileutes, before they ceded the majority of the territory, under colonial pressure, to Europeans in the XIX century. What remains of our heritage is represented by the tribe. Like our legends, so precious, and not only because they are extraordinary, but because they are also real.

- Kim, we can not find anything. It's like looking for a needle...
- In a haystack, I know. I finish his sentence even though we've been here for over an hour.

The town hall will close soon. I thought it would be easier to find something that would attest to the existence of Katherine Pierce in the history of the town of Forks, but even if there is nothing, it doesn't mean that it is false ... Jared and I are slumped on the carpet in the archives room between multiple boxes and shelves. The documents on display are, for example, the treaty which attests to the fact that Forks was annexed to the United States, also an agreement between the white population and the Quileute people, and statistics about the local population.

- We officially have the most boring town ever. I mumble as I put away the newspaper clippings from the 1990s that I have in my hands, under Jared's apologetic gaze.
- Sorry we didn't find anything. He huffs at my apparent disappointment.

I smile to let him know that it is not his fault, although it is true that I am undoubtedly disappointed.

- I don't know what I expected ... Maybe an article about a bloody attack that talks about a brunette, or a photo in a newspaper, or her name written in the list of residents. I explain, running a hand through my hair, helplessly.
- You want to believe in her, that's normal. Jared says kindly.

So, we discreetly leave the archives room, taking care to lock it. It frustrates me so much, coming home empty-handed. An annoying voice comes to us. A teenage girl and an elderly employee appear to be waiting for the elevator. From the other end of the corridor, we listen to them without them being able to see us.

- When will my photo be exposed in the hallway ? Asks a curly brunette, impatiently.
- Miss Stanley, it's only been a few days. The middle-aged woman replies, looking irritated.
- Of course, but I insist, did you receive the photo which shows my left profile ? Because, you know, the right side of my face is my best profile. I don't want the photo that was in the newspapers, it looks too provincial. Did I ever tell you I was from the city ? So much better than Forks. Says the girl.
- Several times, yes.
- But it remains an honor to be the Miss of such a charming town. And I know the photos of all the Miss Forks are in black and white, but is it possible to have one in color ? I would pay the additional cost.
- No, it's a tradition. Concludes the one who seems determined to end this conversation.
- Great … Don't forget, it's Jessica Stanley. I'm telling you this because in the local newspaper it was written Jessie and it's absolutely not normal because I wrote them a letter saying that ... Her voice is no longer accessible because they got inside of the elevator , but I'd bet she'll spell her name.

Miss Forks is a pretty cheesy tradition. Every year, it takes place in one of the colonial houses on the edge of town, certainly because it is the most beautiful house and because it belongs to the municipality nowadays. The people who lived there had to abandon the place or give it to the town a long time ago. The competition consists of several young girls from the city competing to obtain the precious title of Miss, but the only ones who are interested about it are the elderly, the local newspaper and the people who would do anything to feel superior like this young girl. Jessica Stanley, she probably studies at Forks High School. I think I heard something about her while shopping the other day in the grocery store, she is this year's winner and she is a senior. The Quileutes do not participate in these festivities, in particular because we were excluded during racial segregation. This practice is as old as the city and it takes place every October.

- I want to check something. I whisper to Jared, feeling an intuition, while he follows me.

The hallway is so long and the ceiling light has some malfunctions. It looks like a horror movie. A large display case covers the wall and it contains more than a hundred photos in small formats. These are all Miss Forks. My gaze scrolls over each of them carefully, from the most recent to the oldest. What they have in common is their youthful appearance, their beauty, an apparent joy, their well-born appearance, their whiteness, their dreams which emanate from their looks specific to youth ... Only one stands out. She has a darker skin, her hair appears black and her eyes looks brown. She is the spitting image of me. Her gaze is striking, her beauty is flawless but her expression has something dangerous. The photo is so old and is from 1872. Her name is written below : Katherine Pierce. She hasn't aged at all, the only difference is that Katherine's eyes are now red, and not brown. Maybe she was still human at that time.

- She told the truth. Jared whispers, his eyes gloomy at the idea that this story is only just beginning.

Finally, we found something. My heart is agitated. The hallway light is still blinking on and off. My ancestor was already around in 1872 and told the truth about her history with this city. I promised Jared I wouldn't go see her again, but all I want to do is go back to Katherine and question her. What exactly does she expect from us ? Where can we find this dangerous enemy ? What was she doing in Forks over 130 years ago ? Is my sister still alive ? This simple photo just changed everything.

NOTES : I just feel so insecure. Again, sorry my english I am not a native speaker. I was so excited, I have ideas for at least 12 books, but now I feel that this story is pointless and not interesting at all. If you read it, can you tell me what you think ? I really want to improve myself. Sorry for the bad vibes but it is also kind of a diary for me. Jessica made a little appearance during this chapter.