AN: I don't own Twilight, Stephanie Meyer does.

That Old Rocking Chair - January 23rd, 2019

The idea of visiting your childhood homes took some convincing. Your sister came up with the concept, telling you that it might help to see the different places of the people that had such an effect on you. Of course, she also got the idea from a movie, but that didn't stop her from bugging you about it until you caved. Now, taking a step into your old room, the home of the first family you ever knew, nostalgia overwhelms you. This room, with nothing but a dusty bookshelf, a toddler bed, and an old rocking chair.

You all grew up poor, without anything but the bare essentials to your names. But that old rocking chair, it was a must for your Mama. She'd always sit down in that chair and pull you into her lap, hugging you with everything she had. As you grew, whenever anything made you sad, she'd squeeze you so tight the sadness would creep its way out.

Daddy always laughed at this room, your room. He'd laugh at you and Mama and how much that chair meant to the two of you. Laugh at how happy Mama made you, how she'd cheer you up after he'd put you down. He'd take a look around this room, when it was dusted and cleaned, shaking his head at the effort Mama put in. When she kept the cloud-shaped bookshelf white, the walls a vibrant yellow. Back when she could make you smile, back when you had something to smile about. She always kept the room in a way that reflected your mood. Now, as it sits dim, dusty, and abandoned, it still reflects your mood perfectly.

AN: I wrote this story for my Fiction class, and the whole time I was writing it as a Twilight fanfic in my head-I only just got the courage to post it. It will have six short "chapters" in total, and depending on the response, I might write Edward's story, present time, in first person.