❝𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.❞
Bree Tanner, the newborn who was supposed to die. What will happen when she, instead of submitting to her faith, esc...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
VISITOR _____________ ꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦❦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷
Bree looked through her window. The morning sun rose from the horizon, lighting the forest on fire. It woke the small birds outside, making them chirp happily in honour of another day.
She had not fixed her paint ridden clothes yet. Alice and Jasper had not returned from their hunting trip, calming her down a little. She didn’t bother changing her clothes before she was sure they were starting to return to the contemporary house.
Her fingers played with the window’s corners, swiping themselves across the wooden frames. Their delicate touch rubbed its edges desperately, like trying to get rid of the nonexistent paint on her fingers.
She had arrived at her room a couple of hours ago and looked through the huge mirror placed in one of its unfortunate corners. She pitied that specific corner. She disliked staring in its direction simply because of the mirror lurching in its short shadows.
Her clothes had indeed been very paint ridden just like the caramel-haired Cullen had told her. Her face was not as bad, but still not in great shape. Four lines went over her cheeks unevenly. She wasn’t sure how they had gotten there. Had the paint teleported to her face? She was sure she had not touched it at any point when she had been painting. Her clothes, however, were her own fault. She had been very aware of how some of the paint had splashed from her paintbrush onto them, tattering them rudely.
Now she was forced to soon change into a new expensive outfit. She hated how pricey all of the clothes in her wardrobe were. It made her feel bad when they tattered with something. How was she supposed to exist, knowing she had ruined yet another set of clothes? But then again, Alice did not let anyone use the same clothes twice. It was annoying. The yellow-eyes were wasting money, like it would have been growing on trees. Sometimes the young teen wondered how much was exactly in their bank accounts. The expensive-looking furniture, the house, and the constant usage of new clothes suggested the amount was huge.
It was a mystery how they had acquired all of it. She had come to the conclusion that the reason for their wealth could be pinpointed to Alice’s visions and how long they had lived. If Carlisle, the leader who had been born in the 1600s, was the oldest, there was quite some time between now and then for the money to slowly build up.
Her ears picked up a car’s engine sounds, which undoubtedly belonged to the doctor. He had gone to the night shift to help the hospital with a sudden epidemic of accidents.
Humans were silly. Why did they get into accidents so often? Couldn’t they keep their bodies safe? It wasn’t like vampires were a problem for the Forks residents. They were safe from her kind. Protected by the shapeshifters and the Cullens. They were the luckiest mammals of the human species she had seen so far.
