I sat typing in my laptop late at night. I realized when I heard Tyra holler goodnight that it was close to 2 am. I quickly glanced through the 23 new pages that I had written and left my room. I headed to the patio and lit my cigarette.

I always find night to be the most contemplative time. Of course, I have had my moments with blowing a blunt and finding my ass going all philosophical. But I grew up. Gave up that shit for some good ole' Marlboro and now puffing away into the night I feel at peace with myself. A sudden dash in my periphery has me on high alerts and I look towards the foliage, to see a tabby cat's eyes twinkle in the dim street lights.

Its yellowish eyes reminded of the supernatural ever present amidst us. Although I continue to hold the tag of being a danger-magnet, having remotely escaped falling down the stairs two storeys high just today, I have grown up far from the klutz that I was.

Although there are many things that I used to regret, now I have made my peace with every experience and have learnt that they were a necessary step for me to reach where I am. I saw the empty beer bottle littered on the table, which means Tyra would be knocked out till afternoon tomorrow seeing as it was a Sunday. My roomie who acts as a friend cum wing-woman cum chef cum my personal motivational instructor prefers to live the proverbial debauchery based life. From 9-5 when she teaches in preschool, no one can claim she is the same woman who dons a sexy halter top with a fitting mini-skirt to dance in the bars aiming to get wasted till she drops.

Although my continued foray with supernatural things can be called as living life on an edge, I still think I am safer than the company and activities that she prefers. When I moved to Seattle I had enough savings from my first published book to get an apartment. While taking my baby, my Ducatti for a midnight stroll, I came across her fighting with 4 guys. Although in all seriousness it looked like she kicked their asses, I brought out my gun to aid her, which my dad Charlie, always asked me to carry along. She looked at me, I looked at her. She held her hand out, I shook it and asked her if she wanted a lift. She motioned to a duffel bag behind her, motioning how she got kicked out of the one storey she shared with her worthless ex-boyfriend. I brought her home to crash for the night and I went to bed thinking, I will either wake up being ties up and a house robbed of all its possessions or I might find her still asleep in the couch and I may have gained a new-roommate. She surprised me by preparing a decent spread of grub and expressed her desire to cook.

Well that's how I met Tyra. She has had a rough childhood and she majorly grew up in the streets. Few years ago, she saved the life of a lady who was about to be mauled by a bunch of rapists by using her pepper spray and the woman took her in and made her decent enough. Tyra found a liking for kids and ended up teaching in pre-school. She still suffers everyday through her other childhood memories which I haven't ever asked her to explain and she never asks me for my past. We have a good thing going. She is a good friend although I have maintained my distance as I don't want to risk people getting close to me.

I head back inside to finish my assigned quota of 50 pages, before my bitch of an editor sets fire to my ass for not sticking to deadlines. Also, there's only so much one can stare into the backstreets of Seattle before losing their mojo and dozing off.

I had no idea when I slept except to be crudely woken by my alarm with the keyboard print on my face. I groan noticing my stiff neck and try to work on the kinks.

It was about to be Christmas in two weeks and I had planned to do my shopping today. I had to finish writing for my book in two days, so I could leave to Forks on Wednesday evening.

After getting a coffee for myself and hitting a writer's block I decided to head out to get some breakfast.

I wrapped my scarf and buttoned my coat and left my building to walk to a little cafe 6 blocks over. They made some mean pancakes with unlimited helpings of maple syrup for their regular customer aka me who also doubled as their web content writer once in a while. Feeling my hunger going over-board I decided to take my trusted shortcut. I stepped in the lane littered with bins and old spare parts. As I started crossing it, I heard a rustling behind me. I turned around and saw nothing. I continued to look ahead and started walking while my hands curled around mini-spray bottle and a lightener.

I again heard a ruffling coming right above me. Before I could take my hands out of my pocket, I heard I felt a whole bucket of water being sloshed on me.

"What the fuck!", I cried out while spitting out the salty water.

I heard a chortling coming from behind me and I turned around in indignation to look into a pair of deep red eyes.

AN: Please review and guide me. This will not be a Bella/Edward fiction. Not sure which way I will make her go but rest assured it's not going to be with Edward. Regards.