1: Katie

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕September 1st

I stare out of the window numbly as Charlie drives down the highway, flying past the trees and greenery that led us to his home in Forks, Washington. Oregon had always been so green, but something about these trees felt duller. Foreign. Maybe it was just me that was dull and foreign. Either way, something about the way the light hit the trees felt different. Felt... bleak. And with the sun about to set, the world had taken on a grey hue. Fitting, I suppose.

Before Mom and Dad died, we had talked about moving up here together. Dad had insisted it was important for us to be closer to our family. I knew Bella had moved up to live with her father recently; I was honestly very surprised. From the few limited times I had met Bella's mother, Renee, I was surprised that she would have let Bella come to Forks in the first place. I mean, Renee didn't seem capable to be left alone. But I know she got remarried, which must be hard on Bella, in a sense. Which leads me to my Uncle Charlie. "Just Charlie," he had insisted when I said hello this morning. I nodded. Those were the only words we had spoken this entire drive.

For how much I've heard about Forks, I've never actually been here. Dad and Charlie grew up here, of course, but Dad went away for college and settled in Oregon with my Mom. They had me, and decided that one kid was enough— besides, our house couldn't have fit another person in it anyways. Dad always talked about the house he grew up in and the colors and the smells and the people in the town. I had always ached to come to Forks above all other destinations, if only just to be a part of his world. And now, I had nowhere else to go.

And it was all my fault.

I almost don't notice when we arrive at the house, narrow and tall with a short driveway and two cars parked in front of it. I look to Charlie with a questioning look, as if to ask, who's car is that?, but he just shakes his head. "Erm, Katie, would you give me a moment? I'm going to go inside for a moment and ask Bella a question, if... if that's alright."

I blink stupidly. "Okay, no worries." I say, as if there were any other response to his comment. He just nods and jumps out of the police cruiser, half-jogging his way up the steps and swings open the front door. I don't bother to try and listen to whatever he must be saying to Bella, but instead flip open the book that's been sitting on my lap, untouched, for several hours.

Not so much a book, per say, as it's annotated so thoroughly that the story is almost unreadable. Notes and comments and feelings are scribbled into the margins, in between lines and quotes, and anywhere there was once blank space is now filled by ink. My mother's work. As somewhat of a literary analyst, she definitely had a lot to say about her favorite, and least favorite, stories. This copy of Little Women was her particular favorite. A prized possession of hers.

I couldn't bear to look at it while we were still in Oregon. If I had, I would have begged him to turn around. There was only so much of their things that I could manage to cram into my set of backpacks and suitcases that we stacked in the back of Charlie's car. Especially alongside my own belongings. Charlie helped by promising that their last spare room, my father's old bedroom, still had some of his books and things from childhood. He told me over the phone that the only thing in the room he had changed was the bedsheets and comforter, picked out by Bella, and that I could keep whatever of his things I wanted and he would help me find a place to store the rest. An old part of my heart swelled in my chest that I would finally see his childhood house and hometown. But that part of me shattered when I remembered I couldn't share that memory with him.

I close the book with a small sigh, barely an exhale of breath, and rub my eyes with the back of my hands. I haven't moved much over the course of the last seven or so hours. My joints feel stiff and groan whenever I make too sudden of a movement. If I had the energy, I would have stretched or gone for a jog. Instead, I just wait for Uncle Charlie again.

After a few more minutes, Charlie exits the house with his mouth drawn into a small smile. Immediately trailing him is Bella, who gives me a shy wave, and someone else, short and lean. She's got short, almost spiky dark hair. I can't get a good look at her, but she seems relaxed.

Charlie opens my door for me and I hop down from the seat, ignoring how my legs bark in protest. "Hello," I say to Bella, giving her a small nod.

"Hello." Bella says, pulling me into a hug. Her hair smells like strawberries and something... else. Something colder. I shudder at the memories threatening to surface and pray it's just a figment of my imagination. "Would you like me to show you around the house?"

I clear my throat as quietly as possible. "That would be great, thank you."

"Oh! This is Alice Cullen," Bella adds, gesturing to her left.  "She goes to school with us. You'll probably see her around— she's my boyfriend's sister." My gaze drifts slowly to the other girl and my heart feels like it stops dead in my chest.

Her eyes. Her mouth. Her complexion.  Too perfect. Too pale. My mind screams at me. The alarm makes my knees feel weak. Of course I wouldn't be lucky. But, something about her looks especially strange. The way she's holding herself, as if she's thinking about a million things at once. The way her eyes look so vibrantly golden.

The vampire herself, Alice, turns those golden eyes to stare at me with alarm. As if she can sense my suspicion. As if she can read my stillness. Her lips press together and she quietly, politely, excuses herself from the house and promises she'll talk to Bella tomorrow. We both stare after her as she gets in her car and speeds away without so much as looking back.

Bella chuckles under her breath and runs a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. "Sorry about that... I don't know what's gotten into her. Why don't you come on in, Katie?" Charlie begins to pull my things out of the trunk and backseat, but I follow Bella into the house and try not to think about who— what— I just saw. What waits for me here in Forks.

Bella doesn't say too much as she leads me up to my Dad's room, only makes a polite apology for the company. Her brow creases as she blurts, "I forgot the time— I'm sorry if it was overwhelming..." if there's one thing Bella is good at, it's being kind.

I mumble, "It's okay, really..." as sincerely as possible as I take a long look around the house. It's furnished with fairly simple furniture and decorated with a wide variety of pictures, mostly of Bella at different stages of her life. A Christmas card of Mom, Dad, and I, pinned on the fridge, snags my attention and I stare at it for a moment too long before I turn back to Bella. "I'm sorry that I never came up to visit you," I add, but she just smiles.

"It's alright. Forks isn't so bad. I'm glad you're here now, even though the circumstances aren't ideal." She bites her lip to prevent herself from rambling more. "I can introduce you to my friends at school so you have someone to hang out with. They're very kind and welcoming. Especially Angela." She pauses outside the bedroom door, the last one down the hall, and gives me another polite smile. "Here's your room— there's your Dad's things in a few boxes and some books still on the bookshelf. It used to be a storage closet of sorts, but Edward and I helped Charlie clear all of the junk out."

"Edward?" I ask, an eyebrow raised.

"My boyfriend," Bella says, her cheeks going pink slightly. "Alice's brother. They were all adopted by a doctor here in town named Carlisle Cullen. I can tell you more about it later, if you want."

I had almost forgotten Alice. I recalled her face and tried to picture a male with similar features, but the image felt wrong. Her face was too feminine to resemble Edward's, I decided, although Bella had already assured me they weren't related. But of course they weren't related!

I hesitate a moment, weighing if it would be worth it to make a comment or reach for her hands, but decide to back off. "Thank you. For doing all of this." I say, gesturing around me pointlessly. I have to swallow the tears welling in my throat.

She must sense that I don't have the words, because she nods and steps aside to give me space. "Of course. Charlie and I will bring your things up... dinner will be in an hour or so."

"Charlie cooks?" I ask, almost laughing. "My Dad's terrible at it." Was terrible at it, I amend mentally.

Bella grins widely. "Must be a family trait— no, Charlie can't cook. I make most of the meals around here."

"Well, let me know if you need any help." I offer honestly— I love cooking. Not that I would ever impose that on her, however. I know cooking is usually a solitary activity.

"I was just about to say the same thing to you," Bella smiles, the brightness meeting her beautiful brown eyes. An awkward beat of silence follows, and she runs her hand through her hair again. "I'll leave you to it."

I wait until I hear her footsteps retreat down the stairs before I even put my hand on the doorknob. It takes an honest effort to make myself turn the handle, but as soon as I do I can finally breathe again. Inside the room is a bed, somewhat larger than a twin but not quite a queen. The comforters are plain grey with a quilted look to them, something I would have picked out myself. I make a mental note to express my thanks to Bella later on.

Across from the bed is a large window that faces the backyard. While Bella had shown me her bedroom, this one seemed more private— smaller, that's for sure, although I definitely didn't mind. Especially as I looked out of the window and had a perfect view of the woods. It reminded me so much of home that I could feel my heart crack in my chest.

On the wall to my right, next to the door, was a large expanse of bookshelves, about halfway filled with various novels and notebooks. Charlie had mentioned they were my father's, so I pad over to the shelf to inspect the titles. They're all fairly basic, classics that I knew he had appreciated. The Outsiders, Animal Farm, The Great Gatsby... I would have figured he would take these with him when he went to college, but I guess that he had other books of more importance to pack.

I take a break from inspecting the books to reach down and grab one of the moving boxes lying on the ground. I carry it over to the small desk crammed into the corner between the window and the bookshelf and peek at its contents. Mostly random junk that has no significance to me (although, if Dad were here I'd likely be able to find out what they meant to him). Toys, old school notebooks, and pictures. One photo that stands out to me is that of my father with another young boy, who seems familiar somehow, although I get the sense that we have never met before.

I decide to pull the photo out of the frame to see if there's any writing on the back. As soon as I peel back the stand, I see an unfamiliar handwriting, reading, Dan and Billy.

Sighing, I put the picture down and throw myself on top of my covers. I don't bother getting underneath them, and I don't bother changing into something else. I just stare at the ceiling as one word echoes in my head again and again.

Vampire.