The sky over Forks was the color of an unwashed tombstone.
Mother said the perpetual rain would be "good for my skin tone." I disagreed. The only thing I wanted from this miserable town was silence— the kind you find in graveyards at midnight.
I left Nevermore Academy with a small suitcase, a collection of venom jars, and one taxidermy raven. Principal Weems called it "transfer by choice." I called it banishment by committee.
My father, Gomez Addams, waved enthusiastically as the police cruiser drove me away. He shouted something about "new adventures." I don't consider rain and boredom an adventure.
The town was smaller than I imagined. Damp, green, and depressingly alive.
The sign that read Welcome to Forks might as well have said Abandon Hope, All Who Enter Here.
Uncle Fester's words echoed in my head:
"You'll fit right in, Wednesday. Everyone there looks half-dead already."
He wasn't wrong.
Charlie Swan, my so-called guardian, met me outside the station. Funny they think 1 person will be able to hold me down. He was quiet, which I appreciated. I prefer silence; it keeps the screams of others audible. Apparently his daughter died in a car crash. Lucky her.
His house was… quaint. A taxidermist's dream. I could already see where I might hang a few bats. He tried to make conversation about the weather.
I simply told him, "Rain reminds me of the tears of the damned."
He nodded, pretending to understand.
He mentioned my new school, Forks High. I said nothing. New social experiments don't excite me— unless blood or fire is involved.
The next morning, I wore black. Obviously. The only thing darker than my outfit was my mood. Students stared as I entered, like a wounded animal entering a zoo.
One boy smiled at me. I stared back until he looked away. Eye contact is a duel most mortals lose.
Classes were dull. The dissection lab was closed "due to sanitation issues," which nearly sent me into despair. That was one of, if not not the only thing I was looking forward to.
Lunch came. I guess you could say I was curious to see what kind of food they'd have here. I got something simple, a baloney sandwich. I sat down at a table with some people from my class. They found me.. interesting.
I didn't feel like wasting time to look for another seat so, why not. Then, I saw them.
Five of them. All too perfect, too pale, like marble statues pretending to be human.
They didn't eat. They didn't speak to anyone besides themselves. They didn't even blink properly. Finally, people who understood social decay. No one else seemed to notice their weird behavior besides the fact that they don't eat.
One of them caught my eye— tall, unsettlingly beautiful, and frowning like he'd smelled formaldehyde.
Someone at my table whispered his name: Edward Cullen.
When his gaze met mine, I felt… nothing.
Which was strange, because I usually feel nothing, but this was an entirely new category of nothing.. an elegant void, wrapped in brooding mystery. I left it at that, although I couldn't ignore the curiousity in the back of my mind.
After lunch, we were paired in Biology.
He looked as if he wanted to murder me— which, admittedly, was the most flattering attention I'd received in weeks.
The fan on the desk blew my scent toward him, and he recoiled. Most people do that after I start talking, but I hadn't yet. Interesting.
We didn't speak the entire class. He glared; I sketched the skeletal system of a fruit bat. Every now and then I'd peak over, only to see him still trying not inhale my scent. I knew it was strange, I made sure I didn't smell like the dead that day.
The tension was exquisite— like being in a room with a cobra that refuses to strike.
He vanished the moment the bell rang, moving too fast to be normal. I watched him go, intrigued. There was something unnatural about Edward Cullen — something beautifully wrong.
And in that moment, for the first time in years, I felt a strange flicker of interest.
Not romantic— I'm not that sentimental.
But if he wasn't human, I needed to know what he was. Right now, he seems inhuman. But I need some proof. I've been around all different types of things, I can tell what's human and what's pretending to be.
orks might not be so boring after all.
If the rain didn't kill me, perhaps he would.
And that, at least, would be interesting.