Trying to update more frequently. I admit that not updating in a year is supremely bad practice. I had a lot of applications to get through. Junior year seems to be a preview (a bad one at that) of senior year. Icky.

The full moon beamed down on the forest like a proud parent. I watched her curiously from a distance, wondering if she would show her true self. She didn't, and I couldn't help but be disappointed by that.

The sound of the rushing ocean drew my attention to my more immediate surroundings. I dropped my gaze down, down, down to the churning grey ocean waves. I was shocked to discover that I was atop a very, very high cliff at such an ungodly hour.

I stared, mystified by the waves. They clashed against the rocky base angrily, attempting to reclaim the land. Minutes passed before the wind forced me from my trance. It was truly a formidable enemy, tugging mercilessly at my hair, lashing ruthlessly at my barren arms.

Encircling myself in a hug, my arms tried to bring some semblance of warmth to my underdressed body. All I donned was a flimsy white summer dress, and- no shoes! What on earth had I been thinking? It had to be less than thirty degrees outside. I was totally going to die of frostbite. Victoria was going to kill me.

"Jacob!" the name rang loudly into the night. As if removing soundproof earmuffs, I suddenly heard dozens of different voices shrieking joyously. Music was coming from an old boom box somewhere far below. I turned away from the cliff, curiosity getting the best of me.

A huge bonfire had been established somewhere further towards the beach. A group of at least three dozen boys and girls were scattered within the vicinity of the fire, doing all manner of things. I closed my eyes, unwilling to watch any longer.

I'd never been that close to anyone my age. I'd never had that feeling of belonging, not like those kids had. Watching them prance about aroused too much jealously, too much want for what I could never have.

Suddenly, the voices were closer. My eyes snapped opened to find myself closer to the festivities. Not close enough to be seen directly, but close enough that, if someone decided to seek privacy, he or she might discover me. If I took three or four steps, some of the stragglers might have even been able to see me.

"I'm right here, man," Jacob- it couldn't be anyone else- smiled brightly at one of the other boys. They were both golden brown, dark headed, and buff in some manner or another. He looked like Nessie's Jacob, but that couldn't be right, could it? This was definitely not mid-Oregon. It was much further north, maybe even as far north as the upper half of the Washington Peninsula.

"Who do you got with you?" another boy cocked his head. He was another look-alike.

"This," his huge palm rested easily on a smaller girl I hadn't noticed before. She looked like a toy doll in comparison to him, "is Isabella Swan."

She colored a pretty red that caused her dull brown eyes to sparkle with life. A small smile curved her lips upwards as she pushed a strand of her brown hair back behind her ear.

"I'm Quil Ateara, but we've met already," he gave her a cheeky grin before sauntering off into the crowd.

Jacob scanned the crowd, obviously looking for someone. Suddenly, his eyes locked on his target, "Hey, Seth, come meet Bella!"

"Roger that!" a younger boy loped over with a bright dopy grin. His eyes practically danced with joy as he stared at Bella. I couldn't help be jealous that she was the object of two rather handsome boy's attention.

Well, Jacob was perhaps not as handsome as Seth. Seth could have had an eighth layer of Hell made just for him, no a ninth layer, or, no, no, a tenth. Whatever the case, he was just too hot to handle.

I did not just think that about a flipping fourteen year old boy. I mentally face-palmed myself, mortified. Thank goodness no one here was a mind reader.

"It's nice to meet you, Bella," he took her hand in his large, all-encompassing one. His eyes sparkled with a sincerity that left me quite indignant that he was touching her, though I wasn't sure why. I didn't even know the guy. As he whipped his head back up, I lost track of my thoughts. My mind was a white space, filled completely and totally by Seth.

His hair was the darkest ebony I had ever seen in my entire life. It fell over his eyes in a manner that had my heart somewhere near my throat and my stomach. I'd never really cared about hair, or eyes, or anything on a boy for that matter. But this, this boy's hair was beautiful.

I felt heat on my cheeks as I looked away, looked anywhere but at him. "Hey, who's that?" Seth's voice seemed to get louder. Was he coming this way?

"Who? I don't see anyone," Jacob paused, waiting for a response, but Seth didn't deign reply. "You're cold," Jacob suddenly accused Bella. His voice diminished as he began to presumably lead her to the fire, "Let's get you closer to the fire."

I didn't dare look up as I heard his footsteps draw near me. His sneakers made a soft, comforting sound, gently tapping the earth with his purposeful strides.

Before I knew it, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. It was almost too warm. I winced, unsure of what to say, what to do. I didn't know this boy from Adam and he was touching me- okay, it was just on the arm, but still!

"Hey," his hickory smooth voice was almost too quiet to hear. "I haven't seen you around…" I finally collected enough nerve to look up, barely peering at him through my lashes. "Whoa," he gasped. His dark eyes captured mine within their depths. My heart skipped a beat then two then it beat no more.

"Ah," I gasped, eyes popping open in surprise. Terror flooded my veins as I realized that I'd stopped breathing. Even if it was for a few seconds, I had ceased to draw breath.

What had caused such an odd phenomenon? I struggled to recall my dream, but I drew a blank. Whatever. I became aware of an extreme pain in my right shoulder; I'd slept on it all night. I shifted around, trying to ease the pain so I could get back to sleep. It wouldn't cease causing me problems. After a few minutes, I rolled onto my other side- into nothing.

"Argh," I shrieked as I hit the floor with a thud. My covers came with me, piling on top of me like whipped cream on a particularly delicious Jell-O cake.

"Honey, are you okay?" Mom's voice drifted up from the stairwell.

I groaned in response, which appeared to have been good enough for her. I was still breathing. What more could she ask for?

"Laurie's making chocolate chip pancakes with bacon and egg whites. I'll get you when they're done!"

The prospect of chocolate chip pancakes was just enough motivation for me to get up. I pulled myself from my blanket puddle and staggered to my dresser to gauge the time on my old-school clock. Nine fifty three. Way too early.

I flopped back on my bed, already reaching for my pillow. My hands stilled as I caught sight of, of- what was that? Flipping onto my stomach, I stared at my far wall in shock, unsure whether to be proud or appalled by what I saw.

It was of my mom, Laurie, and I, somewhere in the future. Mom and I were lounging on a fairly large rock in the middle of a heavily-wooded forest, staring at whoever was observing the wall. Laurie was off to the side, holding a Polaroid loosely in his left hand, back turned to the viewer. Mom looked the same as always, with her shock of red hair and equally red eyes. I, on the other hand, was nearly unrecognizable.

It wasn't that I appeared older, though I did. It wasn't that my skin was paler than Mom's, though it was. It wasn't even that my eyes were like twin ruby's, beautifully unnerving, though they were. I was flawless, as stunning as an airbrushed super model.

I got to my feet and drew closer to the painting.

Closer up, it was easier to see infinitely small details that mattered way more than they should have. There were a few twigs snarled in Mom's unruly curls. Laurie's jeans were caked with mud. My shirt was torn in several places. And- none of us had shoes on. I don't know why that bothered me most, but it did.

My eyes roamed the ground, searching for three pairs of discarded shoes. Instead, I discovered a figure blended well into the surrounding forest. It wasn't directly perceptible, the figure. Most would just assume it was a shadow, a stump, or even, I dare say, a mistake by the painter. It wasn't.

It was a wolf, a wolf I'd drawn before. Or, maybe I hadn't. Maybe it was just a likeness to the many wolves I'd drawn before. It was roughly the same size as the other wolves, if not just a tiny bit smaller. I couldn't really discern its fur color, but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew it was sandy blonde; I knew it was my wolf. I could see him every time I closed my eyes. The wolf was as tangible as anything else. All I had to do was touch him…

Oh, who was I kidding? It was just a painting. I turned away, but not before catching sight of- A shriek ripped through my lungs as I scrambled away from the rat that had stolen its way into my room.

"Anne, what is it?" Mom came bulldozing up the stairs in an instant, panic rich in her voice.

I was incapable of proper English. Only one word was echoing through my head. "Rat! Rat! Rat!" I hollered at the top of my lungs.

There were many things in the world that I was absolutely terrified of. This creature was one of them.

"Oh, ma-fifille," Laurie chortled as he came barging in, hot on Mom's tail. "Victoria, should I?"

"Hmm," Mom tapped her forefinger against her chin thoughtfully.

"Vi- Mom! Get that thing out of here!" panic made my voice unusually shrill.

"What word is magic?" Laurie inquired.

I blatantly ignored his request, rising to his bait. He'd given me something to focus on besides the pesky critter. "You really need to learn your English, Mr. Frenchman."

"I am an American citizen," Laurie protested. "Besides, I'm not completely French. My mother was born in France, but she met my father on a trip to Germany."

I cocked my left eyebrow, "Then why don't you ever speak German?"

"I am my mother's child, ma-fifille. Besides, the women don't like German so much, here. To speak French is to speak the language of love," he winked coyly.

Insert snort, "Sure. How has that worked out for you so far?"

"Better than you think," he gave me another wink before directing my attention to the critter-less corner. "Behold, the devil-rat has vanished. Where will he appear? Perhaps in tonight's stew."

I gagged at the thought. They had all sorts of diseases. What was Laurie trying to do, kill me?

Laurie gasped in pure delight, forgetting our conversation. "Who is this handsome man you have drawn on the wall? Surely it isn't me?"

He stood admiring his backside for a moment before turning his gaze to the rest of my painting. Mom followed suite, having dispensed with the rat with incredible speed. "Is that me I see?" Mom smiled brightly, getting into the game. "And you! You're so beautiful. Just like your grandmother."

The tension was palpable. Mom didn't like it, not one bit. "I'm sorry, Mama. I've got some primer paint left. I'm going to get rid of it. I prom-"

"Anne James Still-Heart! Don't you even consider getting rid of this masterpiece! It's beautiful. I love it. Would you say this forest could be somewhere in Europe, Laurent? It looks dreadfully familiar. Perhaps I've seen it in a catalogue before? Oh!" she drew me in her arms and squeezed me tightly. "I love it, Anne. I simply love it!"

"Mom, you're killing me," I choked.

She laughed lightly, relinquishing me from her bone-crushing hug. "Come now, Laurie's got breakfast all nice and done up for you."

"Thank you, D-Laurie," I beamed at him. I couldn't call him the d-word. He wasn't. He wasn't. He wasn't. He wasn't. Mom was Mom and Dad was Dad and Laurie was Laurie and that was how the universe worked. You couldn't choose your parents; you could only love them.

So another chapter done. Interesting things are coming. My writers' block has come to a close and I am so happy!