Renesmee's POV
I bounded up and out of bed, ready to start day one of my walk down Forks memory lane. I was pleased to see a fairly warm and sunny day on the horizon—at least by this town's standards. Thankfully, this didn't limit me the way it did for the rest of my vampire family. While their skin sparkled brightly in the sun, mine had a very faint glow, basically nonexistent to the human eye. I used to be jealous of this, they all looked so beautiful! But, now, I saw it for the advantage that it was. They may have to hide out on sunny days, but I was free to continue on with my "normal" routine. I was especially grateful for this today, as I had quite the agenda in mind.
First on the list was my family's old house by the river. Grandma and Grandpa still owned it; they kept some of our houses over the years but this one obviously held the most history. I was sight-seeing in reverse, starting with the places I remembered for myself before diving into mom and dad's spots.
I used the empty house and my half-vampire speed to my advantage, I was dressed and hopping into the Volvo minutes later. I didn't have to worry about my navigational skills for this drive; I remembered making the short trip from the Cullens' house to Grandpa Charlie's with my family many times. On our yearly visits, we had made use of the old house to allow for some privacy. Mom, Dad, Aunt Alice, and anyone else who came along to visit made sure to keep the house in decent condition. The long drive and expansive yard were not perfect, but not nearly as overgrown as our decade long "departure" should suggest.
I parked right up beside the porch and skipped up the stairs, eager to take in the familiar space. Since we left Forks knowing we would be returning regularly, at least while Charlie was alive, we left more furniture and items behind than usual. After unlocking the front door, I sped over and plopped down into the middle of the white, fluffy couch. Memories flashed of times spent on this couch watching a game with my uncles or a rom com with my aunts. For better or worse, my memory was nearly as perfect as a real vampire. I relaxed into the cushion and let flashbacks play—from the short month here at the start of my life to all our yearly vacations.
When the reminiscing faded, I opened my eyes and landed on Dad's piano across the front room. Everyone was so surprised he left this behind, but he insisted that it belonged here, in this special house. He bought himself a new one for our next house.
I walked over, sat on the bench, and lifted the lid to play a few chords. With just a little tuning from the tools left closeby, it was back to perfection. I played through some of my favorites Dad had taught me: Clair de Lune, Mom's lullaby, and a song he wrote for me for my first birthday. I didn't share his composing ability, but I did enjoy playing from time to time. I continued through all the pieces he taught me to know by heart, feeling the presence of my family as I played the songs they inspired. As the last notes of Esme's song continued to ring, I closed the lid and continued upstairs.
On the second floor, I passed my aunts' and uncles' rooms, all containing the bare minimum: a bed and a few changes of clothes. Grandpa Carlisle's office was next. I stepped inside although I knew it was essentially empty. From the middle of the room, I turned a full circle, imagining the dark wood walls full and bookshelves stacked high again. His elaborate collection of art was already being hung in our new house, his desk and reference books awaiting his next reading session. Despite being packed away and cleaned, a significant weight still hung in the air. This was the room where I was born. I trembled recalling my memories of that day: the darkness, the struggle to breathe, my mother's battered face, the relief when I saw dad's face for the first time. It was difficult to fight back the guilt I always felt when I recalled the pain and torment my growth and birth had brought her. Not just her, my father and our entire family were so terrified of what the future would bring. It was truly the most heroic, miraculous act that, somehow, Dad was able to save us both that night. I shuddered once more and forced the macabre thoughts away, reminding myself that everyone was perfectly fine now.
I walked on up to the third floor, headed to my primary reason for coming here, Dad's old room. I guess over the years, it has really become my room. He'd already outfitted the room with a king size bed for Mom to sleep on when she was still human. Once I was mature enough to need this size bed, I slept in here during our trips. This room was definitely the most stocked in the house, with the closet partially filled with clothes for me—once holding various sizes, but now updated to reflect my full grown body—and a bookshelf stacked with copies of a few of my favorites. I plucked a few books off the shelf, snagging an old tote from the closet to hold them. Before I left, I planned to raid Mom and Dad's stashes as well; I was going to need a few options to fill my time while Charlie was at work.
Finding all I needed so far, I excitedly ran down the stairs and out the back door. I kept up my pace, easily leaping over the river, headed for my parents' cottage. It sat nestled amongst the trees, just as quaint and even more ivy-covered than it was when Grandma Esme renovated it for them. Although we were only able to enjoy living here as a family for a short time, it was magical. The three of us loved any chance to have moments with just our small, nuclear family. I coveted all the nights Mom tucked me in while Dad sang me to sleep or the mornings we sat together while I ate breakfast. I loved our giant, sometimes chaotic, family, but the quiet moments with the three of us were unmatched.
Like the main house, the cottage was still fairly well furnished with most of the original items. I added a few more books to my bag from the shelves in the living room and continued through the house. I peeked in on my room next, a space packed away but left behind. As I grew so fast, there was no reason to take my crib and baby clothes along. Sentimentality kept my family holding onto these things over the years. My last stop was my parents' room, hoping to snoop through their closet before I left. This massive closet, curated by Aunt Alice, only held a handful of basic outfits at the moment. I found what I was looking for quickly: one of Dad's few sweatshirts and a pair of Mom's favorite sweatpants. I wanted a piece of both of them to keep with me this summer, knowing I could wear it when I missed them most.
Doing all that I had planned to do here today, I left the cottage, grabbing a quilt from the front room on my way out. I headed off to my next destination, knowing I would be back many times throughout the summer to relax on the porch or enjoy the sun down by the river.
I decided running was preferable to driving, giving the extra bonus of hunting along the way—who knew how many humans I could be around later this week. With the sun continuing to shine brightly, I knew of only one place to spend the rest of the day, my parent's meadow.
Shortly after moving to Forks, Dad had ventured out seeking solitude and stumbled upon a picturesque meadow straight from a fairytale. It quickly became his personal oasis, his escape from the public eye or too many busy minds. It became even more special two years later. On what could be considered their first "official" date, Dad brought Mom here to show her what he looked like in the sun. That was a monumental day in their relationship, leading this spot to become sacred to them both. So special, in fact, that I had only asked them to bring me here once to see it for myself. Over the years, I'd begged them to tell me the story of that day time and time again. I remembered hearing about it for the first time when I was a little more than three years old, during a phase when I begged my family members to tell me every story about their lives before I came into the picture.
"Mommy, tell me about your first date with Daddy." I asked while my parents tucked me in for bed that night. They looked at each other, smiling hugely, their eyes seeming to glaze over as they recalled the memory.
"Renesmee, that was a magical day." Mom answered, sighing with happiness. Dad laughed uncomfortably at her, rolling his eyes. She eyed him skeptically.
"I wouldn't call the entire day magical. Parts of it, yes. But I was a nervous wreck. I can't believe some of the things I said that day." He explained.
"Why were you nervous?" I didn't think I'd ever seen my dad nervous once in all my life.
"Well, I was taking your mother to a favorite place of mine, a beautiful meadow, just the two of us. I've told you the stories before about how her blood sang to me greater than any blood I had ever had before. I was mostly nervous to be alone with her, worried I'd make a huge mistake and hurt her."
"Mostly? Was there something else you were nervous about?"
"Well yes. It was also a very sunny day. I was going to show her what I looked like in the sun. I was convinced it would scare her away from me." His eyes were sad. Mom reached over to kiss his cheek, drawing a smile back out of him.
"You thought that would scare her? But you both look so pretty in the sun. So sparkly!" I argued. He laughed, nodding his head.
"Yes, that's why I say it was a magical day. I'd never known such a magnificent creature could exist, and there he stood before me. I couldn't understand how I'd gotten so lucky." Mom wound her arms around Dad, hugging him close. He rolled his eyes again.
"I'll admit, I didn't agree with that statement for over a century. But once I saw you in the sunlight," he kissed the top of her head, "I could better understand how you felt that day."
That was one of the only times I'd wished my power worked in reverse. What I would've given for both of them to be able to show me those memories, allow me to witness their points of view that day. Instead, I used their words to paint my own mental pictures.
It was simple enough to chase down a deer on my way, easily quenching the slight burn in my throat. In minutes, I was stepping through the last few tall ferns leading into the perfectly beautiful meadow. On a warm summer's day like this one, every inch was bathed in light, showing an array of colorful wildflowers swaying in the breeze. At first, I walked a slow lap around, taking note of all the changes that had happened in the past year, yet the meadow was still as perfect as ever. Eventually, I walked back to the dead center, spreading out my blanket and sinking onto it. I laid back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the peace of my surroundings. I replayed the memories from my parents over and over, I could feel the echoes of their love all around me.
After a while though, instead of feeling comforted by their love, I began to feel lonely. Soon, my harbored feelings of insecurity and isolation rose to the surface. Over the last few years, it began to become more obvious to me that I was different, not one of a kind, but close to it. I wasn't fully a vampire like the rest of my family, but I wasn't a member of the human world either. Fairly early in my life, all of my family packed up and headed down to South America in search of the possibility of finding other Vampire-Human hybrids like me.
At the time, I didn't fully grasp the weight of this trip. Looking back, I could feel the stress of them all, especially mom and dad, desperate to find answers somewhere. Their biggest fear was that my life was on the fast track and never slowing down, shortening our years together. Fortunately, their fears were resolved. In his many years, Grandpa Carlisle had made many friends around the world and some of those friends were able to help us along the way.
Kachiri, Senna, and Zafrina lived together as the Amazon Coven and kindly came along as our guides. I found a special friend in Zafrina, who had a gift for projecting visions into the eyes and mind of her targets. Between her gift and mine, we were able to communicate back and forth, showing off our "pretty pictures" as I called them back then.
Our trip was soon rewarded, as we found Nahuel and his aunt Huilen. Nahuel was a Vampire-Human hybrid as well, and Grandpa Carlisle immediately bonded with Huilen asking her a million questions about her life with Nahuel. Dad jumped into getting to know Nahuel, wanting to hear from him about his life and daily practices. The best news was that, while Nahuel had grown as rapidly as I had, once he reached maturity he stopped aging and had been living happily with Huilen for over 150 years. He ate human food and drank blood. He healed quickly when injured. Relief spread around our family so strongly, you could've felt it in the air.
As Nahuel and Huilen continued to share their stories with us, we were surprised by two things. First, Nahuel was venomous, while I was not. Second, he had sisters! While their family story was not as fueled by love as mine, I was excited at the idea of knowing there were other girls out there like me! Nahuel didn't travel with them, but had kept in touch enough to tell us some things about them. Dad shared our story with them as well, and they were equally interested in hearing about us. With the looks on their faces, I could tell they were both in awe of seeing my mom with us, as Nahuel's mother had died when he was born. There was also genuine shock at my dad, seeing his clear love and adoration for us both, being in my life, another difference in our upbringings.
Our trip was able to switch from one on a mission to one of pleasure, having a true family vacation together, basking in the beautiful scenery and exotic hunting. We continued to get to know Nahuel and Huilen for the majority of our trip as well. With the fear of the unknown behind us, the spirit of adventure was running high. After saying our goodbyes, I made plans to keep in contact with my new friends, especially Nahuel and Zafrina.
Over the years, we have visited them or they us a few times, but have been near constant pen pals. As I grew older, it was so helpful to talk to Nahuel, hearing stories about himself or his sisters. When I talked with him, I was able to feel less alone. Like everything else, my Uncle Emmett razed me about my relationship with Nahuel, constantly calling him my "boyfriend". While yes, he was the only man I had met like myself, I only ever saw Nahuel as an older brother figure. His support was much appreciated, but it wasn't love. I knew love, I saw it everyday in my parents, and I wouldn't settle for anything less. Sadness shot through me at the thought of just how long that may take. Carlisle waited hundreds of years for Esme. Dad and Alice spent multiple decades alone until meeting mom and Jasper. Rosalie was fairly lucky, finding Uncle Emmett just a few years into her vampire life. There was no one type of timeline. Dad's words from earlier in the week came back to me, reassuring me.
"One day, far too soon for me, someone will touch your heart and the waiting will all be worth it."
With his comforting words, I pushed my worries to the side and rolled over, pulling out mom's worn Austen anthology to lose myself in its words.