The Story of Sarelle (Twilight fan fiction)

Chapter 1 - The Beginning and Meeting Carlisle

She looked a vision in all her finery and her outfit told of our wealth.

"Yes, my lovely Lily, but I intend on stopping in town to spoil you with lots of pretty things." I heard his faint voice from outside and saw my father as he smiled widely at my mother before she entered the carriage in front of him.

Shannon and I waved them off from the front door, and like always, I soaked up the remnant feeling of family that they had left behind - the warmth of their hugs and the love in their kisses. I held on to all of it so I wouldn't miss them while they were gone.

That night before I retired to my bed, I stood and looked upon the brilliant sunset that bathed the sky in a vivacious red hue as it peeped out over the surrounding expensive, Edwardian, stone houses.

The way the red spilled across the sky was beautiful but strangely unnerving. I couldn't help but see the way it resembled the intense colour of blood where it mixed with the darkening atmosphere.

This sunset didn't fill me with wonder as all the other's had; instead this one sent chilling imagery racing through my mind.

Something wasn't right, and a feeling stirred in me made me think it never would be.

My eyes snapped open from the memory. It was only a few weeks old, and yet so much had changed since that happy departure of my parents.

Today was the day of my parents' funeral. It was only a few short weeks after their death and not even one week since I had officially become an orphan, forced to stay in this orphanage where my life had become a chore rather than an adventure.

"Sarelle, are you dressed?" Mrs Johnson called through my bedroom door. I didn't really consider it to be my bedroom door because, to me, it was merely a room in which I lived. It was a room for me to lock, and hideaway in. It was nothing like my old room. My old room was a moderately sized pastel yellow bedroom with white sash windows and a large comfy white bed. The bed I would snuggle down into as my mother read fairytale after fairytale to me. Just waiting till I would fall asleep.

This room was a small box with a matching small window, like a prison cell. The bed filled the majority of the room even though it was half the size of my old one, and the walls were a murky grey, which I assumed used to be a fresh cream when this place was built all those years ago. The only evidence of the wall's true colour was a small slice of clean cream that poked out from behind the picture of the Orphanage's mistress, Mrs Johnson.

The acted as a place for me to feel safe for just a moment, so I could ignore the bullying of the other children. They'd call me a ghost because of my pale features, and they'd run away screaming whenever I entered a room. They laughed at my misfortune and there wasn't a day that went by when tears didn't stream down my face.

I resented this place. I thought the adoption agency had stolen my life from me and left me here to rot. She explained that due to my parents' death I would need to stay at the orphanage until someone adopted me since I had no other family. There were no distant relatives that existed to take me in. Instead, my loving, happy family had been pulled from me, and I was left here to just hope someone finds me worthy of their attention. I felt like a an unwanted toy in the bottom of the play box, waiting for someone to take me out of the dark and love me like they used to.

"Sarelle, get down here. We have to go!" Mrs Johnson was getting impatient, and I flinched at the idea of how she would treat me due to her anger. My knuckles were still chapped and raw from the last time I had angered her. I hadn't carried out my kitchen chores, and she had beaten me with her large wicker cane as punishment for my disobedience.