Aria's Twilight

Aria's Diary Entry

Dear Diary,

This will most likely be the first and last entry in this diary.

I've always known I was adopted—I mean, how could I not? My dad and older sister, Isabella (but she prefers Bella), are as pale as ghosts. Honestly, I think Casper might have more color than them. My mom was tan, but not the same shade as me. I'm more of a light mocha or caramel color. Some people even mistake me for Latina—which I don't mind; I actually take it as a compliment.

Sorry, getting off topic. I'm biracial, if you couldn't tell, and while most biracial kids have warm brown eyes, I'm apparently the odd one out with green eyes. It's another difference between me and the rest of my family, who all have brown eyes. Dad says my biological mother had the same eyes, and that I was named after her, too. The only physical thing the four of us all share is dark hair. Mom's is straight chestnut brown. Bella's is wavy-straight, chocolate brown with red highlights in the sun. Dad's is wavy-curly and almost black. Mine is full ringlet curls, dark brown with streaks of auburn and blonde.

Don't get me wrong—I love my family, even my emo, moody older sister—but sometimes it feels like I'm having constant déjà vu moments. My parents think I'm just a fast learner, but sometimes, when I sleep, it feels like I'm living another life. The strangest part is that the déjà vu moments used to happen every time I learned something new—multiplication, riding a bike, making pancakes, even my first day of school. And then suddenly, after I turned twelve, they just... stopped. Now everything I'm learning actually feels new and harder, and the only déjà vu moments I get anymore are when certain things are said.

Anyway, back to my family. My mom's name is Renee, and she's fun and bubbly. She has a very young view of the world, so she's not exactly the strict parental type—more laid-back. She still hovers, though. People call her a "helicopter mom" or a "mama bear," especially when Bella or I get hurt (mostly Bella—she's a complete klutz). Mom can't cook, and anything tech-related made after 1980 seems to hate her, so Bella and I learned how to cook to avoid starving or being accidentally poisoned.

My dad is the best once you get to know him. At first, he's super socially awkward—a trait Bella definitely inherited—and he doesn't talk much, but he loves his family fiercely. I'm definitely a daddy's girl, and I'm proud of it. Even though he's quiet, he's very protective of both his daughters. And, being the Chief of Police, he has no problem threatening to arrest anyone who hurts us.

Now for my older sister, Isabella "Bella" Marie Swan. She's two years older than me but sometimes acts like she's twenty years older. She's very smart and probably prefers books to actual human interaction. Or maybe that's just with me. Bella is awkward and unbelievably clumsy—she can trip on air... three times... in a row... back to back. I don't even understand how that's physically possible. I have my clumsy moments, but nothing like hers. She also has what I call the "Bambi look" going on—fragile, needing protection. Pair her pale skin, long brown hair, and big brown eyes together, and there you go. Bella can also be selfish in ways that somehow come off as selfless. Again, I don't know how she does that.

Now onto me. I might be biased, since this is a description of myself, written by myself, but I'll try to be honest—I hope I wouldn't lie to myself. As I said, I was a fast learner as a kid, which allowed me to skip two grades so I could be in the same grade as Bella (a fact she wasn't too happy about). I took ballet with Bella until she quit; I continued for two more years before switching to gymnastics. I'm shy at first, but once I get comfortable, I'm pretty optimistic and talkative. Unlike Bella, I love clothing and fashion, but I don't care about labels. If it looks cute, buy it—and it's even better if it's cheap. I like to think I'm kind and generous, but I guess everyone thinks that about themselves.

Oh—right. I almost forgot why I started writing this. When I was four and Bella was six, our parents split up. Mom moved us to Phoenix, Arizona. We flew to Forks every summer to stay with Dad for two months until I was ten. Then Bella refused to go, so Dad started visiting us instead. That worked until Mom met Phil (my step-dad), and it would've been weird for her ex-husband to stay with her and her new boyfriend. So for the next two years, I visited Dad alone.

Now for the big news. Bella—trying to be selfless—is moving to Forks to live with Dad so Mom can travel with her new husband. And I, being her little sister, will be moving with her. Meaning I'll be stuck with Bella, who will probably mope the entire time. Yay, me. The bright side is that I actually love Forks, and Bella has to arrive two weeks before I do because of my last dance recital. So... we'll see how this goes.

Love,
Aria Nevaeh Swan