A/N: I was really in the mood to write a one-shot for Christmas, but then I decided to give you guys one of Edward's letters to Bella instead. This outtake may end up being the first of a few, mostly letters (probably). So, here you go. :)

Merry Christmas to all of you!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters you recognize. The outtakes are rated M, not suitable for younger readers due to foul language, and for later chapters that may contain more than that...

Letters to Isabella

December 13th, 2006

Dear Isabella,

It's Christmas. My first one ever away from my family and your first without your mother …

I hope this letter finds you well. I can't imagine the pain you must be going through, having to spend the holidays without the one person you loved the most. Maybe it will help to think about your favorite Christmas with her. Was it in Forks? Was it in Phoenix?

What's the best gift she ever gave you? Besides your life, and time with her...

This isn't the most ideal place to spend the holidays, but it could be worse, I suppose. There are people out there who don't have anyplace at all to go, to call home. Not that this is a 'home,' but it is to me. It's all I have. I don't really associate with most of the guys in here much. Have I told you that? Maybe I could coin a new phrase. Just call me a 'cell snob' or something. Ha …

No, really. It's an OK place as far as this type of place goes. I can't imagine everyone would have it this easy anywhere else like this.

They put up a beautiful live tree in the main rec room. It's a grand fir that almost touches the ceiling, and the scent is heavenly. Reminds me of home. I didn't join the decorating party, but it was amusing watching all these grown men hassle each other over what should go where.

No strings, though, or hooks, or anything of that sort. Afraid someone might use them, I guess. They handed out candy canes and fake poinsettia leaves to decorate it with.

I can't believe they put up a tree anyway. What kind of place is this?

It's not as if I expected it to be like a Muppets cartoon – with singing and dancing and everyone full of mirth. Christ, I miss the Muppets. Anyway, I didn't exactly expect a place that puts up a fucking live Christmas tree either.

Do you think they're just trying to tease us? Mock us? Make us wish even harder that we were elsewhere?

I don't know how that would be possible.

Most of these guys – well, all of them, I guess – deserve to be here, but I don't. That's a bitter pill to swallow at Christmastime.

So, the other day I was thinking about my favorite Christmas, and believe it or not, I'm not sure I have just one. When you're a kid, every Christmas is fucking fantastic. You get all this cool shit for free! I mean, what kid doesn't love Christmas?

Dad bought me an encyclopedia set when I was eight. I don't remember ever touching it once it hit the shelf. It's probably still there, collecting dust in my old bedroom, next to the crappy Field Guide to Pacific Northwest Birds that my grandma got me when I was six.

What six-year-old likes to look at birds? I still don't understand that...

Last Christmas may have been the best, and I'm not saying that because it was my last in the free world. I'm saying that because my entire family was there, and everyone was happy.

You were there...

Remember? Alice found her old Twister game in the attic, and she brought it down, along with Candyland and Connect Four.

That was so awesome. I'll never forget the four of us sitting around the coffee table in the living room, trying to figure out how to play Candyland.

Hello, adults, childhood calling...

Then Mom called us into the dining room, and we ate way too much food. I could go for some of her pecan pie right about now. God, I miss her cooking.

I just miss her. I miss them all. Even you, Isabella, whether you want to believe that or not.

It's true. I think back to every Christmas we shared, and it hits me that it always seemed to be the one time of the year that you and I tolerated each other, that there wasn't any drama or any bullshit. We really were a family.

I accept all the blame for everything that happened any other time. You know, sometimes people just don't click. They don't get along. That doesn't excuse my behavior, I know. I'm such a louse.

But we're not kids anymore. Last Christmas, we were both home from college on winter break. You were in from California, and I can only imagine the growing-up that living in a place like that forces you to do. I hope that you at least get to be a little on the rebellious side while you're there. You know, kick some ass, take some names. Hell, I wouldn't blame you if you decided to stay. It's such a far cry from Forks and all its bullshit small-town, close-minded people.

None of this is making any sense, is it? Half the time, I don't even pay attention to what I'm writing. Most of my letters to you are just full of rambling and the fucked up things that I have more than enough time to think about here.

I have to go for now. They're showing It's a Wonderful Life and I really don't want to miss that little piece of Christmas. Another from the past...

Truly, I hope this letter finds you well, and in a good place. Hell, I just hope it finds you...

Merry Christmas, Isabella. Don't forget to make a wish. (Remember?)

Respectfully,

Edward