Starlight (a twilight fanfic)

chapter two: memories

hi guys!!!i figured out how to upload a photo (i had to sign up to photobucket -_- i didnt really want to but oh well) so its here on the side >>> anyway heres chapter two!

bree was my best friend.

she was my rock, my shoulder to cry on, the only soul on this planet besides my own that knew of every secret stored up inside of me.

She was so much stronger than me, I knew that much, yet she denied it.  I knew I was right though, how else did she support me through thick and thin?

My life was pretty much full of the thick, the bad,

The miserable.                                      

She was that one person that could always make me smile, even though I had nothing to smile about, she still managed it, despite both of our dark pasts.

Mine is a lot more complicated. My life was full of problems and fears, each problem a thick thorn at my side, each fear a rusty knife held to my throat.

I still live in fear, with problems, and complications.

All because of my dark past, the tragic series of events that took pace in my family a long while back, back when I was an innocent girl who believed that life took care of itself. I believed that good things would engulf me, keeping me happy always. I never knew the dangers and problems that life threw at you.

Life didn’t take care of itself. It was a wild, out of control monster that refused to listen.

Life is something that we need to reignin, and control with our bare hands.

My past life is so intertwined with me today, its impossible to let go, to forget and leave it to dwell in the past; its part of my blood, my history, my soul.

Its what makes me, me.

I grew up in a small village in italy, not too far from the city of volterra. I lived with my mother, my father and my sister. We lived in a beautiful white house on a large estate made of lush green grass that was always trimmed, and blossom trees and orchards that gracefully swayed with the summer wind.

I grew up thinking it was a magical place. A haven, a place like no other.  I was right, maybe not in the literal sense, no literal magic lived within the premises of my home. But it did have a certain charm to it, a part of it that just wasn’t found anywhere else. I always loved to play in that backyard, on a wooden swing that was tied to a beautiful blossom tree, surrounded by wildflowers. It was truly a place that you could only dream up of, until you really saw it in person.

My father was a busy business man,  he worked at the bank as a bank accountant. He would always work early in the morning and late into the evening, I didn’t see him all the time, after all he did work very long days at a time. He was always trying to supply us with the best, a big house, expensive clothing, fridge full of food every hour of the day. We always tried to convince him that we had enough as it was, but he never listened. He was raised in a wealthy family, and he continued that cycle with us. My mother was just an average woman when my she met my father. I don’t remember the story well, something about mum sneaking in an exclusive club with some friends and then bumping into dad.

I had a strong connection with my mother, she was very bright, and always helped me with my homework, taught me how to knit, or sew, how to cook and do this and that. To be honest I think I learnt more at home when I was with her than when I was at school. I always told her to try and become a teacher, she was just so good at teaching me I couldn’t imagine why she didn’t seize that opportunity. She always told me that she was content at home, dusting and cleaning and waiting for my sister and I to walk home from school, ready to hug us and ask how our day was.