That night I dreamt of a meadow. It was a beautiful summer's morning and my mother cradled a baby in her arms. It was a baby I soon recognized to be me. The summer wind swirled my mother's hair around her face. She looked content. I was surprised to see that her eyes were gold.

She let the baby me crawl around in the grass. I explored my surroundings, grabbing little dandelions and running my hands over the moss. Eventually I became sleepy and Bella picked me up again. She closed her eyes and breathed in the warm air and then she was gone in an instant.

The wind blew again and the grass swayed with it, as if she were never there. But as soon as she was gone, another took her spot. He was beautiful too, but menacing. His skin was almost translucent, like an onion's, which greatly contrasted with his long black hair. Just like my mother did, he inhaled the summer air and then smiled. It was a beautiful smile, but yet terrifying at the same time. He inhaled once more and then opened his eyes. They were crimson. As quickly as he came, he was gone.

The wind still blew as if he was never there, but the atmosphere felt different. It had that strange pressure to it...the kind you feel when you know something truly terrible is about to happen.

I woke with a start drenched in sweat and gasping for air. To some people, my nightmare wouldn't have been scary at all. To me though, it was terrifying. I couldn't get that face out of my head! He was so delicate looking, yet so menacing at the same time. And those eyes... I shuddered at the thought of those crimson irises. It was just a dream, I told myself. More like a nightmare, actually... But I had seen my mother alive. And that was hardly nightmarish.

I closed my eyes as I remembered her perfect angelic face, her long brown hair, and her sweet golden eyes...my eyes flew open at that thought. My mother's eyes were chocolate brown, not gold. Confused, I quickly got out of bed to check the picture underneath the floorboard. I stared at the picture before me. Yes, her eyes were definitely chocolate. My father was the one with gold eyes. Then again, It was just a dream, I reminded myself once more.

But it wasn't. It couldn't have been. It was much too real and too complicated to be a dream. And this had not been the first of them. As creative and open-minded as I was, I can't be that good. My mind was nowhere close to being capable of conjuring up such dreams, right? No, this was definitely real. I could feel it. And if these dreams were real, well, then I'd better start figuring them out.

I hopped up off the floor to check the clock on my nightstand. It was only a little after six. Normally I would've hated myself for getting up so early, but today, it worked out perfectly. I would run, I decided. It would help clear my thoughts. I would run and find this meadow, which hopefully, was somewhere near Forks, and figure things out.

I did everything in a rush. I washed my face, fixed my hair, put on clothes appropriate for running, put on my running shoes, ate a granola bar, and brushed my teeth in a matter of fifteen minutes. I grabbed my sketchbook and a pencil from my desk and flew down the steps. I tore off a sheet to write Grandpa a quick note so he wasn't worried.

Grandpa-

Out for a run. I'll be back sometime between 8:30 and 9:00. See you soon!

-ECM

Satisfied, I left the note on the counter and was out the door by six-thirty. I jogged off to the woods in the backyard and didn't stop until I was pretty far in. I then decided it was safe to start.

I've always known I wasn't normal besides the small things like my temperature and my heart-rate. I could also sense when people around me were deep in thought. When they were thinking really hard, my head hurt just a smidge, and most of the time I got the general gist of what was bothering them. I could intentionally do it, but I didn't most of the time, because it made me feel even more like a freak. The majority of the time, I didn't even try, it was just like a sixth sense. But I could also run. Not just run, but really run. I didn't have to think-my feet just carried me to the destination I saw in my head. It was like I was flying. The speed was exhilarating.

I could really test my unusual ability to try and get to the meadow. It was definitely worth a shot. I took a deep breath, and pictured it clearly in my mind. When I opened my eyes, I saw that it had worked. I was flying through the woods. The only thing I had to worry about now was just exactly how far it was. I didn't really feel like taking a quite literal cross country journey.

Eventually, I heard cars, so I could tell that I was near a highway. The road came to a dead end, and there was a trail. To my surprise, my feet lead me away from the trail to the other direction of the woods. I kept running and running, and then my feet stopped. I was there. The sun was starting to peek out from the clouds, so as I stepped into the meadow, it began to light up.

It was even more beautiful standing here in person. I could hear the sound of a small stream nearby, and small flowers grew around the grass. I smiled. I was finally here. I bathed in the warmth of the sun for a while. The morning air was still a bit crisp, but lying in the sun helped. Soon, I decided I should get to work on what I actually came here for: to figure things out.

I started with the first dream I'd had on the plane. That was obviously my mother's first day of school in Forks. She had seen my father for the first time, and his family, in the cafeteria. I closed my eyes and tried to get the names and the faces right.

After searching deep in my mind, I clearly remembered their faces. I opened my eyes, flipped to a clean sheet of paper, and grabbed my pencil. I was confident now, so I took a deep breath, and started drawing the small, raven-haired girl first. I was careful to get all of the features correct. After a few minutes, I was able to stare down at my sketch. To my surprise, it was...well...perfect. Alice, I labeled it, remembering her name. She was my mother's best friend.

I did the same for all the others. Rosalie was the beautiful blonde girl; Jasper was the lean, blonde boy, and also apparently Rosalie's twin, though I could see no resemblance; and Emmett was the muscular, curly-haired boy. I then remembered the pairings, so I placed the portraits of Jasper and Alice together and the same with Rosalie and Emmett. That just left my father.

I spent extra time on his picture. I made sure it was perfect. I stared down at my father's face when I was finished. I wanted so badly to find him and to know him. It brought out a side of me I normally kept hidden. It was a longing deep inside of me, a wish to know my family, and a wish to understand myself. Tears welled up in my eyes, and let them fall.

I had trouble labeling my father's picture. I wrote Edward down, but I quickly drew a line through it. I wouldn't call my father Edward...would I? So then what would I call him? If he was actually here, and I lived with him, what would I call him? I made a list.

Edward

Father

Dad

Daddy

I crossed each one out. I paused after starting to cross it out Daddy. I'd never had to think about how I would address my father, since there was no need...but that didn't mean I couldn't imagine it. And every time I did picture myself with a father, I'd always imagined myself as a Daddy's girl. Daddy. Yes, Daddy fit perfectly.

Laid before me was my missing family, minus Carlisle and his wife. It was the family my mother had befriended, trusted, and eventually loved. And sadly, I knew nothing about them. They were a mystery to me. They were a mystery to my mother before as well, and in the dream I'd had on the plane, we'd noticed the same mysterious things. I flipped to an open page to make a list.

Inhumanly beautiful.

They were. All of them. It was the kind of beauty you never see, it was pure beauty. Every one of their features was perfect. No matter the size, age, or height difference, they all had the same type of beauty you don't really see with normal people.

Deathly pale skin.

Their skin wasn't pale like my mother's, or mine for that matter, it was ghastly. You didn't see skin like that on anyone except for corpses. I shuddered at the thought. But despite their ghastly skin, they were still beautiful.

Dark circles under eyes.

The circles made them look as if they were suffering from several sleepless nights. They weren't extremely noticeable, but you could see them if you looked. I also remembered that they all weren't exactly the same shade. Some of the circles were more faded than others.

Dark eyes.

All of their eyes were almost black, despite the range in hair color. But like the dark circles, some of their eyes were slightly lighter than the others. It was odd though-I could've sworn my father had gold eyes...

Not eating.

Alright, so that one wasn't so mysterious, but I put it on the list just to make it and even five. I sighed, and closed the book. As the dreams continued, I would keep adding to the list.

Moving on to the next dream was a bit harder. Why would my father hide the pictures, tickets, and CD if it caused him so much pain? I could see it now...him kneeling on the floor...his chest heaving with dry sobs. While it was still clearly in my head, I sketched that scene as well. It was a tough one to do...I wanted to capture every detail. The pattern of the floor, the box with the things in it, the precise way he was kneeling on the floor, the way his hair fell in his face as poured his heart out...

I stared down at the finished project. It was good. My sketches have never been this good before...not even the ones I make for art shows. It must be that I have much more heart put into it. The dream still confused me, but I eventually came up with somewhat of an explanation. My father was hiding the box full of memories of him from my mother. But why?

I also remembered how quickly he perched up as if he heard something, and dashed out of the room at lightning speed. He obviously was abnormally fast, just like I was. But his seemed different...much more controlled, but also much faster than what I could do. Flipping back to my list, I added:

Super speed.

I remembered how he'd waited, and then my mom's truck had pulled up. It was as if he'd actually heard the truck coming...but that seemed a little farfetched. But then again...nothing seemed to be normal anymore. I added it to the list.

Super hearing.

What I still didn't understand was why my father had left Grandpa a note signing it with Bella's name, when he was the one that actually wrote it. And how they were both so tense while they were staring at each other outside. Her eyes told me that she knew something was coming, and his eyes said everything. He was going to do something he really wished he didn't have to, something he really didn't have to do, but he was choosing to. And that's when it hit me. He was leaving. In just two dreams, I'd seen the first time they'd ever met, and the last time they saw each other.

I should have been angry. I should have been upset with him...I should have been mad that he left. My mother had to have been pregnant with me already, how could he leave her like that? I told myself that he couldn't have known...my mother didn't even know. I couldn't blame him for that. I should have been angry, but somehow I wasn't. I wasn't mad that he left, just simply curious. I wanted to know why? And what had gone wrong? I was however, angry that he hurt my mother.

I finally came to my third and most recent dream. The first part of it was lovely...seeing my mother and I together and happy was nice. The second part though, the part with the strange man, seemed important. I took out another blank sheet to sketch his face. He was frightening on paper too. After thinking a while, I decided he might have played a part in my mother's disappearance/death. I also noticed that appearance-wise, he was very similar to the Cullens. He had ghastly skin if possible, even more pale and chalky looking, dark circles underneath of his eyes, and inhuman beauty. The only difference was that his eyes were bright red.

Thinking of my dreams, I noticed changes in my mother. They were slight, but they also made a big difference. I started to sketch her as I saw her in my first dream, and then as I saw her in my last dream. In the first picture, she was softer. Her chocolate eyes were soft and wide, and she looked very fragile. In the second picture, she was much more striking....her features much sharper than before. The biggest difference was her eyes. In this picture, they were gold.

I checked the clock on my phone, and saw it was about time to head back. I didn't want to worry Grandpa, and I had to be at the library by one. I smiled to myself while I ran home. I was productive this morning, and I'd remembered something else:

I might actually find out more about my family today.

I might find out who I am.