Purple Sky by A. Teller (unputdownable books .TXT) 📕

“Nessie! Jake will be here in five minutes!” Alice chirped from the first floor.

“I’ll be ready! Five minutes is all I need!” I replied, scampering across my room trying to slip into my jeans and run at the same time. I almost tripped, but I caught myself on the edge of my vanity.

It had been ten years since the Volturi came and “visited” us. Aro’s face had never left my thoughts. His cold, merciless face. I still don’t know if he could sense my feelings. I'd never been afraid before, of anything. Having a vampire family meant I didn't need to fear anything. But to see my mother, my father, so afraid of someone...it forced me to grapple with an emotion I'd never felt before. And confusion. ]

My father, mother, uncle and aunt had such special gifts. My Aunt Alice said it would take a while before I mastered my gift. She said I’d be about fifty by the time I was an expert, but at fifty, I’d look the same. I guess not aging was one of the perks of being half-vampire. Wrinkles never existed in our world. But it was strange and somewhat sad, having family members that would normally be so much older then you, frozen around the same age as you. Even worse, my powers were shoddy at best. I rarely used them nowadays, wanting nothing more than to pretend to be normal. To just...be normal.

Aunt Alice always made my birthdays special, since they’d be the only birthdays my family could celebrate. Esme, Carlisle, Aunt Alice, Aunt Rose, Uncle Emmett, Uncle Jasper, my mother and father, and Jake were all were in between 18 and 30. It was kinda funny, seeing our family out. We could never be close together in public, or go somewhere all at the same time. It would seem too suspicious having a family of about the same ages walking into a mall or just walking. We had to keep a low profile. When I was “five”, I would pretend it was somewhat of a game. Pretending to be a spy, hiding my identity. I remembered asking Aunt Alice, when we got home, if we could play spies. She never said no to me, and I guess that was a good thing. She was the one person I could look to for anything I wanted. If I wanted to play, or if I wanted clothes, I could go to Aunt Alice, and she would find a way. She would never let us wear the same thing more than three times, so getting new clothes was a factor of life in my family. It was normal, getting new clothes every month. My closet always had to be changed anyway since I was growing so fast. I was inches away from my mother’s height, so I knew I’d get even taller.

I knew that I would stop aging around seventeen or eighteen, and I knew that I had the gift of never ever forgetting anything. No matter how much I wanted to. Sure, never forgetting sounds amazing. Never forgetting the moments of your childhood, those precious moments, and family. But hat also meant not forgetting the scary times, the horrible times, and the nightmares of life. The one moment I wish I could scrape off my brain: my birth. Of course, before I was born, I could hear them, on the outside, beyond my mom’s stomach. I could hear everyone talking about things like my mom’s fate and me. I remember feeling my feet and toes. I remember some of the voices outside calling me things like “monster” and “demon”. My mom called me a he and I really wanted to tell her who I really was. I remember moving ever so slightly and hearing my mother in agony. I felt so guilty. I loved her, but I could not tell her that. She had to wait. This frustrated me. I could hear Jacob’s voice, Aunt Rose’s voice, my mother’s, my father’s, and many others who I didn’t know yet. Then, the horrible memories started. I remember a sudden loss of air, and breaking sounds all around me. I heard the shouts of everyone outside. I remember a cold sensation and my father’s hands scooping me up into the world. I could breathe now. His hands were cold, but I wasn’t afraid, knowing his voice. He said my name, and I learned who I was. I blinked for the first time, revealing a bloody scene. Jacob and my father hovered over my mother. She was so lifeless and weak-looking. A skeleton, living only to give birth to me. A wilted flower. He showed me to her, and I could never forget her face. Her mouth, covered in blood, said my name slowly, as her eyes tried to focus on me. She called me beautiful.

My memories made me upset at times, and I would try to stop remembering. My father could read my mind, which sometimes got on my nerves, so he could tell when I was sad. Jacob could see when I became sad, but after tackling him a few times, I felt better. Of course, I would have to tell everyone else that he “let” me win. My father and Jacob would always tell me, “It was never your fault.” I found that hard to believe. I know it was my mother’s choice, but I still killed her. A guilt I'd carry forever.

“You ready?” I heard Jake call from downstairs. I spent most of my time in my family’s big house instead of my parents drag little cottage. It was too small for my taste.

“Hang on! I don’t have perfect hair when I roll out of bed yknow..." I shouted from the bathroom. My hair had never been cut before, courtesy of Aunt Alice. I always had to give it a quick brush and spray. I glanced at the clock as I rushed down the hallway. 8 am, it read. The exactness of the time annoyed me.

I decided to give up on my hair and roll it into a messy bun, my second favorite hairstyle. The strands of hair that had escaped from my hairstyle bounced as I walked down the stars. It was my everyday clothes, nice, but flexible.

“I see Alice in her a little too much,” I heard my father whisper in my mom’s ear..

I smiled, still walking. Jacob couldn’t stop staring at me, which he always seemed to do. I finally reached the bottom, in time to see Alice and Jasper walked through from the dining room. Jacob gave my aunt headaches, and it would become difficult for her to see. Not see in front of her, but see her visions.

“We have to go. I can’t…” Alice said. She looked at Jacob briefly. “Oh, that’s why,” she finished. She put an emphasis on that. She turned to see me walk towards them, and a slight grin crept up on my face. Alice hugged me suddenly.

“You look amazing! Just don’t come home smelling like dog,” she said. Her voice turned low and almost whispery about the ‘dog’ part.

“I’m just wearing my everyday clothes. Amazing is an overstatement.” I said, blushing.

“Overstatements down apply to you, Nessie,” Jake said with a slight grin.

A surge of color again took over my cheeks. My mother shot a quick glance at Jacob. “We’ll be back around…” I began. My voice trailed off, unaware of the timing. Jacob had said the other day that he had a surprise for me.

“Four,” Jake finished.

I looked at him. Four? Two hours later than usual? What was he thinking…?

“We’ll see you then, Renesmee,” my mother said, putting a bit of force on my full name. She never took to ‘Nessie’ as well as I had.

Why was everyone but me in on this surprise? Like my mother, I hated surprises. But I never shot them down.

I sat on the motorcycle and put my helmet on. Jacob had gotten me a helmet, which I never thought I needed. Stone skin, remember? But Jake said, when it came to my safety, he would never cut corners. He never wore a helmet. He never had to worry about helmet hair. Ugh…

Jake raced down the road as fast as he could, as though he was trying to shake the vampire smell off me. Jake’s smell wasn’t perfect either. He smelled like cinnamon and smoke from a campfire, but I always found it appealing. I think the difference in smell has to do with taste all the same. My family can't eat human food, or partake in barbeque.

Every time Jake hit the gas, I held on tighter. I could tell he was laughing, but he stayed quiet, knowing I would punch him later.

We reached La Push around nine. It was cloudy, and the coast was frigid. It was September, so Washington’s cold was at its peak. Jacob didn’t feel it, but I did. When we hopped off the cycle, the only part of me that was warm was my stomach. I hated that I always got cold, even though I was just 1° off Jacob’s temperature. But even though I was warm to everyone else, I was cold on the inside.

“It’s so cold,” I said, placing the helmet on the handlebars before my hands retreated into my armpits. Jacob came over and hugged me. The sudden rush of warmth made my teeth stop shattering.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.”

“Good. Cause we’ve got something planned that you can’t be cold for.”

“Where’s Seth?” I asked. Jacob wasn’t exactly the best cook in the world, but I was, if I do say so myself. I’d always loved cooking for Jacob, Seth and Nate. Jacob didn’t like it, since he said it was like I was their maid. He said I was better than that, but I saw it as having a special, big sister bond to the pack, even though I was the youngest. Leah would resist my cooking, saying I’d probably poisoned it.

“He’s probably out with Nate on patrol. He’ll be back in time to eat."

“He’s always back in time to eat,” I replied, giggling a little.

I made what I usually made. Eggs, toast, waffles, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and if I had enough batter, I would make pancakes. I know it doesn’t seem usual, but since I had eternity, I could waste as much time as I wanted.

The rush of breakfast smells made Jake’s mouth water. My ears could hear the faint patterns of paws getting closer. Nate and Seth, no question. Jake’s cabin wasn’t far from Sam’s, so we visited often. Suddenly, the paws stopped, now I could hear footsteps. They paused for about thirty seconds, and then they started running. Nate and Seth were about the same age. Two twenty-six year olds, who looked and acted like freshly eighteen idiots, were definitely hard to keep in line. Jake did it, somehow. Seth stormed through the house first, Nate followed.

“What’s on the menu, Nessie?” Seth called as he reached the kitchen.

I placed three platters full of food on the table. Seth dove in, not listening for an answer. Jake followed. I never knew how they could eat so much and not explode. Nate sat down and stuffed his face like the rest. I would laugh my head off, watching them. I’d probably eat two pieces of toast. I could eat human food, but not much. I’d have to be careful. When I was seven, I had too much human food and threw it all up. Toast would suffice.

“My food must have drugs or something in it. Or nobody feeds you guys,” I said, smiling as I reached for Seth’s plate. Licked clean.

“Probably drugs,” Seth replied, happily filled. We both laughed. Nate finished afterwards, then Jake.

“Come on, Jake. You’re last again?” I asked sarcastically.

“I beat