Love and kisses and bewb gropes to my amazing betas, nails 233 and LaMomo. Any errors you may find are mine, because I don't know when to leave well enough alone. Thanks, as always, to my pre-readers: Manda, Heidi, & Willow. Much love to all the wonderful ladies I WC'ed with while writing this, Your support and encouragement were invaluable.

Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I simply introduced them to the sun, surf, and sand.

Please do not reproduce, translate, caress, or fondle (or lick, nibble, or kiss for the girls from the fan group, for whom I have to be specific since they're abusing poor Jasper!) my story inappropriately in any way. Not that I can do a damn thing about it, but it makes me feel like I have a sense of control.

This is for butterflybetty, who desperately wanted to know how Jasper ended up where he is in Going Under. I hope this sheds a little more light on the subject, sweets. Oh, and don't forget your tissues.

Changes in Latitude: Jasper's Journal

A prequel to

Going Under for the Third Time

Donated to

Texas Wildfires

Oct. 20—

I read somewhere that writing things down helps you work through problems in your life. I don't know if that shit's true or not, but I have to do something to keep me grounded. I feel myself drifting further and further away from reality every day. I'm hiding away from a life I no longer know how to live. The days are all running together, with no break in their endless monotony to clue me in to their differences. I had to check a calendar just to know what day it is today.

It's been a week. Seven days since everything I thought was true, everything I thought I had, was destroyed. I moved the rest of the stuff from the house into storage this morning. This dingy hotel room is my home now. I kept the essentials: my clothes, personal things, and Annabelle. Other than that, the rest is sitting in a locked room, while I decide what to do with what's left of my life. Fitting really, that my remains of all I knew are as locked up as I am.

I can't remember the last time I ate, the last time I slept. I can't focus on shit; my mind is running a million directions at once. Every time I try to close my eyes, the memories of the flames engulfing Maria's car terrorize me. My body actually aches from the jarring awakenings caused by the screams ripping from my raspy throat. My eyes hurt so much, are so bloodshot, I've resorted to wearing sunglasses all the time. I look like I've been on a bender for months, but I haven't touched a drink in I can't remember how long. It'd be too easy to give in to that demon, to drown the pain. I won't allow myself that escape; I deserve to feel it, to remember it all, to never forget that she's dead because of me.

This is, obviously, completely written, since it was donated to the Texas Wildfires compilation. There are a total of 17 chapters, and I will post one entry of Jasper's journal a day. I hope this offers a little more insight to the frame of mind Jasper is in at the beginning of Going Under for the Third Time. No, I haven't abandoned my other stories, I've just had a ton going on.

My first book is scheduled for publication the end of January. Smoky Rooms and Hardwood Floors has been pulled and been converted to a multi-chapter short story, to be included with two other stories by my dear friends, nails233 and butterflybetty. Information can be found on my profile or by PMing me. Thank you for all of your love and support. If it weren't for your unwavering faith in my writing, I would have never had the courage to take this step.