The Girl Who Was Taken (Renesme Cullens Twin Sister)

Eighteen

I was sprawled across my bed. And then I wasn't. I was in another room. When I sat up, I was in my bed again.

I held the diary that Jane gave to me and a sharpie marker now. I didn't remember picking them up. On the page is a fancy scrawl that reads, "Amber?" 

I'm in the other room again. It's so much brighter than the castle. Seeing through these eyes gives everything a new life that I can't see through my own. I'm holding a different notebook. It has a green and purple flower print opposed to the simple red leather one I had stashed in my night stand. I'm also holding a bejeweled pen with feathers sprouting out the end. I quickly write down, "Renesme?"

Another whooshing feeling and I was back in my body again. The writing on the paper in front of me stated, "You're my twin sister."

I put the marker to the paper, but she switched us again before I could get anything out. 

"Why don't they remember?" she had asked. "Please tell me you're real."

"Slow down," I replied, trying to get my brain together so that I could explain.

The paper changed again, turning from a soft pink to a coarse white. She had written a whole paragraph this time, though very choppy. "Dad used to tell me about you. That you were still alive somewhere. Now he doesn't remember. And everyone else thinks you're dead. They don't know that I know about you. Mom never even knew."

I paused trying to take that in. It had been a long time since Renesme had knocked on my head to swap bodies with me. Over a year, I figured, trying to do the math. I hadn't exactly gone out of my way to pop into her life either. It scared me. It was easier pretending it was a dream. But to see the words she wrote down now made my stomach roll over.

What did she mean mom never even knew? She never knew about me? What else could Renesme mean by that? It was hard to even process the thought that I had a mom. I had a dad. I have Aro. Jane's a girl, but she's more like an older sister or cousin. Chelsea's nice, but she's always in the background. I tried thinking of other women in the Volturi guard. None of them equated to what a mother should be. I had to reply with something, she was going to flip us around again soon.

"I made him forget. I'm sorry." I couldn't think of what else to say to her. 

I'm in her bedroom again. I can hear birds from outside her open window. I can see clouds and wet leaves, but the sun is still forcing itself through, refusing to be ignored. 

I had been in this bedroom before today. The decor had more character to them now. Not all white and frilly anymore. The colors spoke about Renesme. She had a green desk and a rainbow circle rug on her floor. The walls looked like they were repainted quite often. Little murals scattered all around like her bedroom was an entrance hall to a thousand different worlds. Some were fully colored and shaded while others remained pencil sketches. The contrast of our lives was unbelievable.

This time she'd written about how excited she was that I was really real, and that she finally figured out how we could talk, and how many questions she had. I wrote back, "I'm glad you exist too." And not wanting to talk only about myself added. "So you live with werewolves?"

It was my turn to switch us back. The colors were so much darker in Voltaire. I could still see the stars outside. The sun was going to rise soon. But I had spent the whole night thinking instead of sleeping. I could feel the sleep deprivation getting to me. Hopefully today was a lazy day. 

"How do you mean you made him forget? Why are you with--" I had cut her off from finishing her second thought.

"I glamoured him. He came to get me with a woman named Alice, and I looked them in the eye and told them that I didn't exist."