Prologue
BPOV
All my life, I have wanted kids. A little girl or boy to call my own. I would run my mom, dad and brother crazy with my incessant babbling of children. This of course worried my father, who was just nineteen when they had my older brother Liam, but I often reassured him he had no need to worry. When I wanted kids, I wanted it to be with someone I loved. I wanted what my parents had. My parents had a wonderful relationship, and were still in love with each other as they then. I often wondered if I would ever fall in love.
I considered myself boring. A plain Jane, who kept her head in the books and her mind in the clouds. I was the complete opposite of my brother. He was 4 years older than me, 6'3 with our mother's straight corn silk blonde hair and our father's honey brown eyes. He was extremely outgoing, and very ambitious. I on the other hand, stood at 5'8, had our father's curly mahogany locks, and then there were my eyes. In fact, my eyes were the only things I had really liked about myself. Liam had said it made me even more "beautiful." I had complete Heterochromia, meaning that my eyes were two completely different colors. My left pupil, my mother's eerie ice blue, and my right, my father's honey brown. I was extremely shy, and often hid behind by brother for everything. He was my best friend, and we kept each other's secrets. The biggest secret between us being the fact that he was gay, until he proudly came out. The say our parents were not surprised actually surprised the two of us. Also mentioning the fact that although he loved kids, they just were not for him. This pushed pressure on me to have kids of my own one day. I was only seventeen, and as much as loved kids, I had other dreams I wanted to accomplish.
I wanted to write. I loved writing. It was just something about putting words to paper that intrigued me. I always had a vivid imagination and hoped that others one day would get to read my words. I had planned on going to college in Miami to major in English literature. I even had my own little mentality that I lived by, prompted my favorite quote.
"We all die. The goal isn't to live forever; the goal is to create something that will."- Chuck Palahniuk
My life seemed to revolve around that quote, to create something that would forever leave my mark on the world, whether it was in a book, or bringing another life into the world. I never thought it would apply to the second one until he stormed into my life knocking me off my feet.
I could remember it like it was yesterday. I was eighteen in my sophomore year of college. My best friend Angela and I were out for the summer and decided to spend it with our families in Forks. Angela and I were like night and day. Whereas my brother was my best male friend, Angela was my best girlfriend. She was shy like me, but when we got together, we were just as outrageous as any other teenagers were. With her olive colored skin, dark locks and soft hazel eyes, she was a beauty to be reckoned with, but tended to fray away from attention that came her way. We had decided to make a trip to Seattle, to do a little shopping. I hated shopping, but being the good friend I was, I decided to tag along.
….. Flashback…8 years ago
"Ang." I whined. "My feet hurt. I'm ready to go home." I breathed as she pulled me hastily to our rental car for what felt like the eightieth time.
"Jeez Bella. It's only been 6 hours." she sighed, like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was one of those rare hot days in Seattle, and it was blazing. Angela had someway coxed me into wearing some shorts that stopped mid-thigh that made my legs look sexy (her words not mine) and a navy blue wife beater that seemed to make my pale skin looked luminescent (again her words not mine). I was hot, hungry, and seconds away from calling my brother to come rescue me. After feeding me, I seriously though we were going to head back home when she began dragging me towards what looked like a huge tattoo shop.
