I do not own these characters. I have borrowed them from the great Stephenie Meyer. Please go to my profile to see "picture" of Renesmee Cullen AKA "Ness Earnshaw."
Renesmee's POV
Another tedious year of high school to look forward to, another first day being the new girl. Ugh! Sometimes I really hated my life. I took one last look in the review mirror and sighed. My long auburn hair went whatever way it wanted to and my brown eyes were too big; I decided there was no help for it and shrugged. I grabbed my bag and slipped out of the car as my mom laughed at me.
"Ness, you are beautiful! It will be alright…." she reassured me gently.
"Bye Mom," I replied, sticking my tongue out at her. She winked at me and blew me a quick kiss before she spun out of the parking lot leaving a cloud of dust behind. Several students looked in awe at the silver mustang speeding down the street with music blaring loudly out of the open windows. Shit. I didn't want any more attention drawn to me.
My mother and I had just moved to Seattle last week. She had registered at the local community college while I got stuck with the whole high school experience….again. You see I am 25 years old, but stuck in the body of a 17 year old. My mom is 43 years old and looks 19 or 20 years old at best. The world thinks that she is my older sister and guardian. This is our story. My mom is a vampire, and I am a half vampire, or half breed as I like to call it.
You see, I was conceived when my mom still was human. My father was a vampire and theirs was a once in a lifetime, unheard of romance. They had been separated somehow after my mom found out she was pregnant with me, shortly after being married. She was turned after she gave birth to me as a result of the venom in the amniotic fluid entering her bloodstream. We had lived in Italy in a small town called Volterra for the first 5 years of my life in a large coven, then mom made the decision to come back to the States and we had travelled around the west coast moving and starting over every few years.
My mom would not talk to me about my father; she wouldn't even say his name. She said that it hurt her too much to talk about him or to think about him, and seeing the raw pain in her eyes I believed her. I also knew she still loved him and that she felt guilty that I had grown up without a father. It frustrated me that I knew so little. I mean, my dad is still out there somewhere, and I always wonder if I am like him and whether or not he would like the person I am. Sometimes I catch mom watching me with a sad smile on her face and I think maybe it is because I remind her of him. I wish I had someone I could talk to about how I feel but that just isn't a possibility. Talking to mom was out, and as a rule we avoided close friendships with humans as that could lead to complications, especially with my ability. One touch from my hand and all of my memories would play through your mind like a movie. I was a freak. Did I get that from him? I knew I didn't have mom's abilities.
I knew the necessity of our lifestyle, moving every few years, keeping a low profile in the community. It was always the same. This move was different though. My mom was excited for the first time in years I saw her really smile. In a rare moment she had disclosed to me that it felt like coming home. This was the most she had ever let slip about her past and it excited me. Maybe I would finally get some answers. Maybe I would finally find out about my father.