Hello again! It's been quite a while. This idea for a story has just come up. I haven't really written anything since the last post for the Secret Garden. I do want to continue that story, I just accidentally wrecked my outline with the last few posts.

Disclaimer that all of the Twilight Universe characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Also, Jane Eyre is referenced and is written by the brilliant Charlotte Bronte.

I hope you enjoy!

My bag was flung a little carelessly as I flopped onto my bed. The room I had held possession of since I was a baby had grown with me, though the pale yellow walls had always remained a staple. Where a worn oak crib had once held me, a small desk piled high with books and the only clear space held a rather chunky laptop. My bed lay against the wall closest to the door and furthest from a sizeable window that the desk looked out upon. My twin bed, holding my weary frame from a long day of work, had a plush white and yellow comforter from a bed set I had just splurged on for the first time since I landed my full-time position at the library.

All was well in my little world. As the oldest of our sizeable family, I was quite lucky to have my own room. My 3 younger brothers, twin teenagers and an elementary student, had one room while my 2 younger sisters, also in elementary, had another. This fact would later give me a comfort than anything else.

I had only a few moments to try and melt into my bed when there was a soft knock pervaded the air.

"Malorita, darling, dinner is ready," my mom's voice said. With a slightly bittersweet smile, I eased my worn body off of the bed. I always felt a little guilty when I'd come in too late to help with dinner. Stretching languidly, I rolled to bounce myself off of the bed and make my way down stairs.

There was a lively bustling as my ever-voracious younger brothers raced to get to the table first. I remember a time when I myself was much the same, and it had taken a few years to get back to a healthy weight, albeit with a little chunkiness that I could never fully be rid of. I rather liked my curviness, though, and it had never really given me any grief. But I digress. I came down the stairs to see my brothers helping carry a large pot of arroz con pollo and a separate pot of beans to the table. Seeing brightly coloured pot holders and table settings, I could only assume it was the girls who set the table. I ducked into the kitchen to grab the tortilla warmer heavy with fresh tortillas. Seeing the girls, the babies of the family, I quickly snuck them each a half of a tortilla. Their faces were wide with glee as they scrambled to eat them before our mom noticed.

As I looked up, I saw my dad grinning as he brought in glasses with ice.

"Hey, dad," I smiled sheepishly.

"Lorita," he smirked, grabbing a tortilla of his own.

"How was work?"

"Oh, the usual," he dismissed. "Besides, what have I always said?"

"Work stays at work," I sighed, sticking out my tongue at him.

"Malori Elizabeth!" I heard, flinching a bit at the sound.

"Yes, Mom?" I asked, turning to look at her with an innocent look.

"Don't back-sass your dad," she frowned, waving a large wooden spoon at me.

"Yes, Mom," I smiled. I snuck a look to my dad, who was smirking behind his hand.

After our evening prayers, dinner was a quiet affair. There wasn't much talking done as we were stuffing our faces with the delicious meal. There was always quite a bit left over that always ended up as Dad and mine's lunches. Sighing, a little too full, I eased out of my chair and helped with the dishes. It was an early-learned rule that those that didn't help cook, cleaned. The boys had always struggled with this rule a bit, but now that they were in high school they had definitely matured a bit. And by matured, I meant that they didn't slack off with it. It just took a few hits from bubble projectiles to get them to cool off.

Dishes and kitchen cleaned, the rest of the family had started the routine of taking showers in order from the youngest onward. I helped bathe the little ones, got my own clothes ready for my shower as the boys took their turns, before I finally was able to relax. It was minutes before I found myself in my usual spot in my bed. No matter what age, our lights had a curfew even if we were awake. Pulling out my yellow flashlight, I found my worn copy of Jane Eyre and opened it to where my almost-equally as worn bookmark was fastened.

As I was whisked away to Lowood School and tearing up as Helen passed away, I missed the sound of my window silently opening. A sudden flash, a bang, and searing pain rocked through my body as I looked up in surprise. My eyes met those of someone I had never seen before, their eyes wide in surprise. Looking back down at my book, I could see splatters of blood on the old pages. I made to get out of bed, almost delirious in pain, when another shot rang out and I tumbled to the floor in agony.

Suddenly, the room was flooded in light as my door was suddenly opened. I looked to see my dad, quicker than I'd ever seen him before, tackle the man. A shrill scream started to ring in my head, though it also started to fade. I couldn't turn to look at the source of the voice; I could only stare ahead as the gun was kicked aside. Fists flew until the intruder lay still, and I realized that he had been yelling.

I felt as if each time I blinked, it was a lifetime. One moment, my dad was on the intruder, the next, I was looking up at my mom. It was her tears and a terrifying realization that I couldn't hear her words that made me start to tear up.

"I'm sorry," I tried to say. I could only guess I was heard as her body shook harder. My mom held my head in her hands, bringing her head to mine to kiss it. "I… I don't want to go," I pleaded quietly. But my mom was close enough to catch it.

"It's okay," I finally heard her say. "It won't hurt anymore, my little Malorita," she said, her voice cracking as she said my name.

"I love you all," I said. I tried to reach up to grab her hand, and when it began to fall, my mother quickly grabbed it and held it with all her might.

"We love you so much," she cried.

Another wave of pain tore through me, my body shuddering in the pain. I felt like I was choking, and no matter how much I coughed I couldn't get air. There was a thundering in my head as I tried for air with no relief.

It was then that the room began to be filled with blue and red lights. But as the edges of my vision darkened, I succumbed and felt no more.