When the little sister of Bella Swan resembles Jane Volturi it takes a dramatic turn to the Movie plot. Especially when that little sister is a stubborn girl who can't stand anybody and using her gifted potential to get everything she wants.
(Jasper...
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Bella's written Start pov.
When I first told my mom, Rene, I was moving to Forks, she laughed, assuming it was a joke. And I couldn't blame her. Forks—the tiny, perpetually wet town where my dad lived—was the last place on Earth I ever imagined myself willingly going. But this wasn't about me anymore. My mother wanted to travel with my stepdad, and Nora didn't want to leave her room half the time.
A troublesome hard stop in my life where a decision had to be made, and I needed to suck it up and go with what's best for everyone. This was about Elle and my mother. Everything was always about Aurelie...
My little sister. My golden shadow. The person with whom I'd shared a home, a childhood, and a quiet, wordless understanding with my entire life.
If I was the awkward, invisible one who was too shy to make waves, Elle was the opposite: quiet but in a way that demanded attention. People always seemed to notice her, though she rarely said much. Maybe it was her pale, almost translucent perfect skin or her piercing reddish blue eyes, which made her look like a painting come to life. Or perhaps it was how she carried herself: composed, detached, and a hyper child when she liked you.
She had always had perfect acne-free skin, long natural eyelashes, and soft blushy cheeks that drew attention because she looked adorably innocent. She was of average height, had long, skinny legs, looked almost like an average model, and took more after our mom than our dad. You could barely tell we were sisters with how beautiful she looked. Rene always gushed about how similar she looked to her mother when she was young.
Everything just seemed to always be about her. She could fake being an extrovert with everyone around her, and Rene would drag her along to games and any pre-game hangouts like her best friend rather than a mother. She was girly, which Rene loved, playing around with makeup together or going clothes shopping.
What's funny is how much she hated the sun. She had this uncanny ability to predict things before they happened. And sometimes—especially when she was angry—people felt compelled to listen to her like she'd reached inside their heads and rewired something. She always got what she wanted, creating a solid jealousy that I felt guilty about feeling, but that's not new to this journal.
Mom never acknowledged any of it, not even a single time. My sister was just ethereal in a way you'd see out of a movie, the shy girl everyone somehow fell in love with and stole the attention with just a tiny wave. She was able to fake any personality to fit in with certain crowds.
When Mom decided to travel with her new boyfriend, Phil, it wasn't just my decision to move to Forks. It was Elle's, too. She didn't say why, but I could tell she needed to leave Phoenix much more then I felt the need to.
Maybe she thought Forks, with its endless rain and dull routine, would hide whatever made her different.
I doubted it.
As the car pulled into the driveway of our dad's house, I glanced at Elle behind me. She stared out the window calmly, her pale hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked perfectly at ease, but I could sense the tension in her.
"Here we go," I muttered, more to myself than to her.
She didn't respond, but when her sharp eyes turned to me, there was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
Whatever was waiting for us in Forks, I felt it would change everything.
