Stupor (stoo • pr)
→ n. deadening of the mind and senses
Every night, while sleeping, I am visited by the Past, Present and Future. They shape my dreams, showing my events that have happened, events that are happening, and events that will happen. Their voices are soft, and while they shape my dreams, they whisper to me. They promise me things that are as beautiful as they are horrifying.
It was because of them, that I saw Bella being bitten and left bleeding in our old ballet studio in Phoenix. It was because of them, that I became aware of the supernatural. And it was because of them, I knew that I had to go to Forks; I was not supposed to be in Jacksonville with my mother, I was supposed to be with my sister, patiently waiting for him; the nameless, stoic, and ruby-eyed man that was always hidden in black tendrils of smoke, calling my name.
**Alec and Jane have been aged up to 18!**
**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn. I do not own the story, characters or majority of the script. The only character I own is Ilana Swan. I did add extra dialogue for the purpose of my story. Constructive criticism is welcomed. I truly hope, that you, the reader, enjoy this story.
**This story is rated M: There will be swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence and love scenes. I will also add a note at the top of the chapters that will contain love scenes and I will mark where in the story they will take place. This will allow you, to skip if it makes you uncomfortable.
She was the type to stare herself in the mirror and see someone else stare back. Someone who was free and light, being able to spread her wings like an unbound angel. She was neither chained to Heaven nor Hell. Howbeit, no matter how far she reached into the mirror, she could never step through as her ball-and-chain presented itself in the form of a crown.
She was a princess with two faces, desperately trying to have a sense of freedom outside of her royal obligations. She found it in the form of a weakness: a passion with another human being. Her love for him and ballet had kept her chin high; her crown not slipping from her pastel hair.
So why, why did it suddenly become so hard when a gothic gymnastic back-flipped into her life? Why were her heartstrings being tugged on by someone of her same gender? Why was it suddenly so difficult, so strenuous to keep living in her pastel world when this mysterious girl brought such bright colours with her?
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of sex, suicide and other mature themes will be contained within this book. Read at your own discretion.