𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | Jasper Hale

CHAPTER ONE

The silver gray Mercedes S600 cruised down the freeway, travelling south. Enzo was sitting in the front passenger seat with so much soft leather around him that he could barely hear the 389 horsepower, 6-liter engine. At twenty five miles per hour the engine was only idling. But Enzo could feel the power of the car. One hundred thousand pounds worth of German engineering. It was his uncle's favorite car. It also happened to be the same car he came to pick him up in.

He was there ready and waiting for Enzo the minute he stepped foot outside the airport. Enzo couldn't remember the last time he saw his uncle, but from what he could see it looked as if he didn't age a bit even though Enzo knew that wasn't the case. He was most likely in his thirties but looked as if he was in his twenties. Age was a weird thing, wasn't it?

Enzo glanced out the car window, watching as the world outside flew passed him in a blur of orange, brown, and yellow. Those dull colors did nothing to stand out against the gloomy weather outside. When he arrived in Forks, Washington Enzo was expecting the warm rays of sunlight to fall upon his tanned skin, but instead he got the complete opposite. At a glance, it looked as if it were about to rain any second however, he knew it wouldn't. The gloomy mood seemed to fit his mood perfectly.

As the car came to a slow stop, Enzo caught sight of the house. The house was identical to it's neighbours right down to the shade of paint on the iron balconies, but Enzo knew which one was his uncle's right away. It was box-shaped with it's front door dead center, four small windows near each corner and constructed of the same red brick. A path made out of leftover bricks made a shallow S-shape between the gate and the front door.

As his uncle put the car in park in front of the driveway, Enzo unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the passenger side of the door. He slid out of the car and closed the car door behind him; his uncle following his lead. The raven haired male gave him a awkward smile as he held his duffel bag of clothes in his right hand. Enzo strechted out a hand to grasp the straps, but his uncle maneuvered the bag out of reach.

"You go ahead and go inside, I'll carry your bags for you," he said.

"I can carry my own crap thanks," Enzo replied, taking the bag from his uncle.

The older man held up his hands then made his way to the front door. He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his house keys - unlocking the door. He pushed the door open and they both shuffled inside. Enzo closed the door and locked it before removing his shoes at the front door, not wanting to dirty the clean floors.

"Your room is upstairs, take a left and you'll find an empty room at the end of the hall."

With a nod, Enzo slowly made his way up the staircase and down the hall to his left. Just as his uncle said there was a room ready for him. He stood in the middle of the room, taking it all in. It's been awhile since he's been in a bedroom. Elias has spent most of his time in hospitals and rehab facilities.

So the thought of him having his own room, his own bed, his own space in general was a lot to wrap his head around. It was going to take some getting use to that's for sure.

He was so use to hearing the same old crap about the state of his mental health and ways to fix it, but all he heard in this room was silence. The feeling of loneliness slow washed away his excitment that he previously had. The realization of him having no one but his uncle finally registered inside his head. At least at the rehab facilities, he was able to connect with people who were in the same situation as him - mentally speaking.

Sure he had his parents but they were the ones who he sent him away in the first place. They claimed that he needed a new view on life; that he needed to get away from his old life back home and make a new one here.

However, Enzo knew that wasn't the case. After the accident that happened a little bit over a year ago - it left Enzo in a dark and troublesome place. A place filled with terrible thoughts. He found himself falling down the rabbit hole with no way out - trapped in a never ending darkness. What kind of parents would want that type of son? The kind that gets high so he can forget the pain he's in? The kind of son that continues to break apart everyday. Enzo knew they didn't want to have anything to do with him. He was just a waste of space to them wasn't he? These dark thoughts played over and over again. They were broken as a voice sounded behind him.

"I hope it's to your liking, sorry about the bed covers. Dark blue is the only color I have and I'm not really sure if you like that color. I could go down to the store tomorrow and buy you-"

Enzo glanced over his shoulder as his uncle set his duffel bag on the floor next to the dresser behind him that occupied the wall to the right. He shook his head.

"No that's okay uncle g, I like the covers. Thank you."

His uncle grumbled under his breath, sending him a sharp look.

"Call me Giovanni kid, that whole uncle crap makes me sound old."

"And here I thought you didn't look a day over forty five."

"Little cheeky brat," Giovanni muttered. "If you want to unpack go ahead, otherwise you can say screw it and we can go out to eat."

"I'm not really feeling all that hunger. Right now, all I want to do is sleep."

"Its only five Enzo. You act like you're an eighty year old man. The night's still young and so are you. Besides, you've had a long flight and you need to eat something."

The broken male exhaled in defeat. "Fine just....shut up please. Your voice is giving me a headache."