Blood Moon

A Little Gift

  So...I have had this inner conflict going around in my head for the longest time now. I have left Wattpad for about two years now, I believe, and in that time I have been attempting to grow as a writer and enhance what little skills I had.

  My best friend, who is not a huge fan of twilight has been following a new story that has been spinning around my head and has agreed she likes the current ideas I have.

  As a woman I have found myself wanting a character who swore, was sarcastic, tough, and relatable and I wanted her in twilight. Looking back on this book I see a young girl who had no idea what she was doing and was just trying to make someone who was invincible and couldn't experience true fear. Recently I have written a few chapters of a book I was thinking of, of a different supernatural creature who was Bella's sibling, someone who refused to take some of her...well...shit. Someone who was strong, but not invincible with a better sense of familial bonds.

  The first chapter I wrote I found to be more what I was trying to express with this book, but with a different character and better writing skills. For now, what I'm about to show you, will remain a one shot unless I find enough hype towards what I began to create (and yes it will also be a Demetri orientated story with more...love???) this is also planned to take place across all four books/five movies for more development AND NO AUTHOR IMPLANTING putting an author (yourself) into a story is the worst mistake you can make PLEASE FORGIVE ME...and now I'm rambling. 

  Anyways, I hope you enjoy this "one shot" leave a comment and vote on what you think of the chapter and what I should do.

  Without further adieu, here it is.
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(WARNING: if you become easily nauseated by the mention of blood and injuries this chapter is not for you, this is recommended for MATURE audiences)

Do you know that feeling you get, the one where your stomach drops about five inches and your convinced your having an allergic reaction because it simply is not natural for your throat to feel so swollen and tight? That feeling where you just know something completely dreadful has happened?

That was the feeling that followed me the entire day, through all my classes, the scorching walk "home", and to the point where I found myself answering the old crumbling telephone in the living room.

Telephone, that's exactly what it was. The cheap plastic thing didn't even deserve the title of house phone, it was a faded yellow with a curly elastic cord accompanied by the dialing disk no one knows how to use. I can guarantee you that if I turned the TV on to some lame ass show filmed in the sixties you would see the same phone hanging on the tacky walls.

I'm going off topic, aren't I? That seems to be something I find myself doing more often then not. It's something that's been bothersome since I was a child, but then there was my mother. Erratic and hair brained, as most would say, she was the one to coddle me and assure me my unfortunate characteristic was an endearing one. Then again my mother is more of a child then I could have ever hoped to be.

And there I go back to prattling on again, huh? We were talking about something quite specific weren't we, please allow me to retrace my steps. Endearing characteristic, crappy sixties television series, faded yellow telephone not to be mistaken with house phone, and a dreadful feeling all the live long day.

Ah, hello there. Back from my inherited hair brained mind I see? Shall we continue this so called fairy tale? Where we last left off there was an irritable short female sending a glare so sharp it could cut steel towards a quivering telephone. Oops, my mistake once more, it was not cowering from me but ringing in haste.

I stared at the shaking box as I rolled my backpack off my shoulders, a loud thud resonating through the air as my textbooks fell to their metaphorical death.