All rights to these characters and to the Twilight Saga belong too Stephenie Meyer! Enjoy!(:

The Unexpected Change

Chapter 1:

The only distraction from my own thoughts of how severe the fire burned was the scalding pain itself. It overtook any cognitive mental response I could come up with, even the voices shouting behind my shut eyes were just a blur of syllables I couldn't decipher. The flames wouldn't extinguish from my skin, they only continued to envelop me, as if I was placed into a kennel, being prepared for cremation, but instead of being dead, I was alive, feeling everything. Screaming for someone to hear me and open the doors to let me out, but no one was there.

My throat had to be filling with blood as knives ripped through the tissue. It was painful to even moan, or yell properly as I had been doing for no identifiable time. Has it been an hour? Six hours? A day? I couldn't tell count anymore. I just knew no one could hear my cries or at least no one cared. But I continued because maybe the strain of my vocal cords could distract me from the fire melting my skin.

And as if the silent prayer was answered, as it had done many times throughout the unbearable agony, the blackness rushed over my eyes. Like a thick blindfold, firm and fast. Covering not just my eyes but also my self with a crushing weight. It almost became exhausting as I got pushed against it when it came, but I knew it was easier to give in, to let it push me down where there was no pain and no weariness and no worry and no fear.

And as I drifted into this darkness each time, I would dream. I would be floating under the dark water, hearing the most familiar sounds that my mind could conjure up as if the darkness behind my eyes were replaying my life on a continuous repeat. I would see Renee and Charlie smiling down at me, cooing softly between me and each other. As my eyes drifted, the image changed. It was now the both of them, holding a small infant in their arms, as they smiled back at themselves and back at the child.

Hotter.

The flames woke me again from the deep body of water I was drifting through. Too hot. Much, much too hot. I wanted to claw through my skin, anything to keep the fire from burning any further. The fire only continued to blaze hotter as my screams rang in my ears. I begged for someone, anyone. I begged for the darkness before I lay one more second in this torture.

Kill me, kill me, kill me.

Let me die, let me die, let me die.

Why hadn't the flames taken my life yet? Even in movies, I knew that after a minute or so, the person's body would drop to the floor, lifeless. The only thing that would move was their skin, curled into ashes as it shrank away from the flames. I couldn't imagine how I had looked now, but I knew I was still fighting, thrashing, kicking, screaming. How long would this continue? Days? Months? Years? No, not even I could imagine a torment of this magnitude lasing this long as nausea over swept me.

It was as if on cue, my body was turned onto its side before I could choke on my own vomit. Cold hands pressed against my back and firmly onto my shoulder, holding me in place as the contents that remained in my stomach poured out of me. But not even the chill of their hands could cause me relief. The fire was much too hot.

I couldn't properly remember where the flame first settled on my body. I couldn't form a thought of when this began, or how it had occurred in the first place. Only the darkness that clung its talons over my mind was my savior now, taking me back under the black water again. And there I was, looking out at the ocean. Was it La Push? Charlie would take me there when I was younger— and as if that short thought answered back, my eyes were now on Charlie to my right, smiling at me as he ran next to me. I was on a bike. Charlie was teaching me how to ride a bike for the first time on the sand of the beach, encouraging me to use the pedals to keep going forward. And then the betrayal as he let go, and panic swept over me as I saw his arms shoot into the air, chanting for me to keep going, but alas, I had fallen over.

I wanted to cry, or at least I think I had been this entire time. Crying for my own pain instead of crying for Charlie's and Renee's pain. They would lose their only daughter to a fire. Renee would never be the same, whether she had Phil or not, I knew she would never be the same. And Charlie— he had only had me back in his life for just a day or two, and now he would lose me all over again.

My vocal cords tore again, answering the growing fire that blazed hotter now in my chest. I felt my fingers clawing at it, and my knees pressed so tightly against my abdomen to place pressure in hopes to subside the flames. It was a worthless effort.

"Keep her hands restrained," A voice echoed. It was the first time I could understand the words that were being spoken, and no longer just jumbled syllables.

Keep her restrained? So, they did know of my continuous torment—or at least knew I was in pain. But they could see the flames erupting over my skin, could they not? Did it not occur to them to extinguish the fire, or was this their own sick way of self-pleasure, watching women burn into agony?

"We don't want her to continue inflicting her own self-injuries."

"Turn her back over," A higher-pitched musical voice urged, like wind chimes ringing with each word. I felt my body gently being placed back onto my back, but I felt my wrists being restrained above my head, held together in one hand as another was placed onto my thigh, holding it down. I couldn't move. I couldn't thrash, I was secured. "It shouldn't be too long now. She should wake in a few hours."

A few ours? How long did it take for someone to die from being set aflame? And how were they not catching the flames onto their own skin? Was I alone— just producing the flames that would only affect me, melting the flesh from my body?

"8:53," A musical growl answered to no one in particular, but I could hear it clearly as it trampled through my ears as if the sounds were heightening and coming full force. I wanted to flinch away from it, hide, but my body clung to it. I could tell that the voice was coming from the person who was holding my body still. Not allowing me to move or react to the heat, but I just wanted to crawl towards it, for the help of that someone to save me.

Say something, again. Anything, please. I wanted to shout. But it was only the death-curdling howls that rolled out of my throat.

I had no clue whether he had meant 8:53 in the morning or at night. Time only continued to pass. Had it only been several hours since it began? I just didn't know. And, for a never-ending space, that was all there was. Just the fiery torture, and my shrieks, pleading for death to come. Nothing else, not even time. So that made it infinite, with no beginning and no end. One infinite moment of pain.

The burning would only grow hotter— rising and peaking and rising again, surpassing anything I'd ever felt. And I could feel the control of my body coming back to me in increments as the cool hands lightened their grip, offering me markers of the time passing.

And then I could count the low, even breaths that came from that someone. These breaths moved the slowest, allowing me to concentrate on them. These breaths would allow me to count the seconds as they meant the most time passing. Each breath, more even than a clock's pendulum, those breaths would pull me through the burning seconds towards the end.

I could recognize the darkness trying to pull me under again, trying to bring me back to my sanity— heaven, but I didn't understand why whatever God was out there wouldn't let me stay under the dark water. The dark water relieves me from the impossible pain through my shoulders, and stomach, scalding its way through my throat and licking my face. With the weight of those hands holding me down, it felt like I'd gone from being tied to the stake as I burned, to gripping that stake to hold myself in the fire. Maybe if I welcome death in the fire, it will sooner take me away.

My hearing got clearer and clearer as I listened to each breath drawn from the one beside me. It was the only thing allowing me to focus my mind. I was counting, counting each one. Each breath took approximately three seconds, and each exhale took four. I could even count the shallow breaths that gasped through my teeth. I had counted over two hours now, and I wondered how long until the clock would hit 8:53.

I continued to get stronger, and the pressure against the insides of my wrist no longer felt cool anymore. The fire must have blistered away every memory of cool. And no longer did they feel heavy, but instead of the grip of a child, but I couldn't imagine a child with hands that large, no. It was just me. I knew it must have been the adrenaline coursing through my body, wanting to push through the flames. And even my thoughts were becoming clearer as the new noises around me came, and I could listen.

I could hear light footsteps, the whisper of air stirred by an opening door. The footsteps walking nearer to me and the lightest pressure, breath against my scorched skin.

"It is only getting closer to time, son." It was a cool voice. The first voice I had heard hours ago that rang. He sighed, and I only assumed at me, but I couldn't open my eyes to even look. "You are going to have to be careful. She won't understand what has happened to her, and the changes will be disorienting."

"I know," replied the musical voice my body railed towards. It sounded disappointed, maybe. Possibly unhopeful. I couldn't decide. Maybe my endless torture wasn't pleasing enough to him. And then there was a faint pressure inside the crease of my elbow. "I am so sorry," the voice whispered closer to my ear, sending a cool chill down my body, almost enough to extinguish the flames.

My mind settled until the racking fire went right on burning me. I wanted out of his grasp, I wanted to have my hand gripped to his throat as I tore my teeth through his artery. I wanted to maul him, to tear him to shreds for allowing this torment to continue. I wanted to kill them all. All of them deserved to die for this disgusting kink they find amusing to inflict on me. How could he be sorry? He wouldn't stop the flames. He only held me down to continue to burn through them. How could he be sorry for forcing my parents to wonder over whatever happened to their only daughter? He didn't care. None of them did.

"I wish I only knew," the musical voice whispered again, but not to me.

"An interesting situation," the first voice began. "Even before, and now, you cannot hear her?"

Hear me? How could they not hear me? I knew by the agony in my throat that I had been screaming. I had even heard my own deafening screams as I cried in agony.

Then another light set of footsteps walked into the room. I felt its weight settle against the far wall in front of me. I couldn't believe there were more. This must have been some kind of club or headquarters for sick beings who enjoy watching this torment.

"The house is progressively being packed up." The southern drawl of his voice was clear, though, the idea of this being a house had distracted me. So, this had to be someone's home where they took me too. Someone had opened their doors to allow this kind of behavior. "I would suggest we leave soon after she awakes. The search party is getting nearer now that you didn't show up at the hospital today."

"We will worry about that soon enough," the first voice replied to the southern voice. It must have been referring to him, the doctor. "I will go back in the morning to deviate the suspicion. We won't be able to move her for another few days. She won't be controllable at first, and we will need to keep her thirst under control before we can get through the cities." He paused, stepping a foot closer. "You'll need to go back to school Monday, son. Your absence only is causing further weariness."

"I won't leave her," the musical voice snarled. "It'll be sorted out later."

"You created more suspicion onto yourself," the southerner replied firmer. "If she doesn't wake any sooner, they'll come here."

So, someone was looking for me. I hadn't even thought of Charlie creating a search party, but of course, he would. He was the Chief of police, and his daughter was missing. I hoped— I prayed he would make it here on time.

"Nonsense," the high-pitched musical voice rang into the room. "They haven't thought of the sort, just yet. We have another few needed days like Carlisle said, and then some. Going back to the hospital in the morning will also increase our time here."

Carlisle. A name to place to a voice. A name I could give to the cops once Charlie finds me. A name… a name. It had to be the name of the doctor.

"I won't leave her," he growled. "This is my responsibility."

"You won't have to," the girl replied. "The rest of us not missing classes has created less suspicion enough, but we will need to devise a plan for the weekend. Her father is going to re-visit the hospital in the morning to check if anyone has turned her in anonymously, and after that, he will go to the station in Port Angeles to broaden the search."

There was a long moment of silence, and then the boy beside me sighed. It was filled with frustration and anger.

"Everything is going to be fine," she spoke again in a soothing voice.

I felt my pelvis buck forward underneath his grasp as a new rolling flame flowed throughout my legs once again, but a new set of hands were on my legs, helping the other hold me down. I yelled once more. I was able to concentrate on my voice, on the words I wanted to say, but a repeated swearing only sounded out. I swore words I had never said before. Words that Charlie and Renee would have a heart attack over. I wanted those in the room to die. All of them.

"Hold her steady," the southern voice growled. "She's enraged."

"Could you concentrate for me?" The voice beside me rasped. "On the clock — give me an estimate."

"It's the same as before, no changes," she replied, but her voice grew brighter. "She's absolutely dazzling, just look at her."

The voice didn't answer. I knew I had never been the most flattering to look at before the fire burned through me, but I must have just been a pile of charred skin and bone by now. Every cell in my body had been razed to ash, and I couldn't fathom how I could have possibly been dazzling, though, that was hardly important.

After moments, the voice beside me snarled to the girl and Carlisle, and I heard the light footsteps of the girl breeze out of the room, hearing the swish of the fabric as she moved, rubbing against itself. Carlisle seemed more hesitant to leave. I heard the quiet buzz of the lights in the room, and I could hear the faint wind brushing against the outside of the house. I could hear… everything.

Downstairs, I could hear whispers of other voices. I could distinguish the voices between the television program I did not recognize, and the voices that were present in the other rooms of the home. I listened for more, but there was nothing else. The television now had moved on to a commercial about a new device for baking cakes. Something with hollow pockets to fill cakes with different fillings. Though, that wasn't interesting enough to distract me. So, I listened to the breathing of the man beside me. Counting the seconds as the room cleared from everyone except the two pairs of hands holding me steady. And soft words of apologies and guilt

Ten-thousand, eight hundred twenty-four and a half seconds later, the pain changed.

The fire began to fade from my fingertips and toes. Fading slowly, but at least it was something new. The flames were distilling, and I knew this had to be it. The pain was on its way out and I would have to find my own strength when the flames resided to form an attack on my captors. Growing up with Charlie in my life for only a couple of months throughout the years didn't offer me much self-defense, but I had to muster whatever I had read in books, seen in movies to use.

But the pain settling away brought my attention to other changes. The fire in my throat wasn't the same as before. It now wasn't only on fire, torn apart from my cries, but I was now parched, too. Dry as a bone. So thirsty. Burning fire, and burning thirst…

Another change: the fire inside my heart got hotter.

How was that possible?

My heartbeat, already too fast, was picking up— the fire drove its rhythm to a new frantic pace. Was it not enough before? Did they douse my chest with more gasoline?

"Carlisle," the strained voice next to me, calling for the corrupt doctor. His voice was low but clear. The fire retreated from my palms, leaving them blissfully pain-free and cool. I could almost sigh from the relief as my fingers clenched, but it was retreating to my heart, which blazed hot as the sun and beat at a furious new speed. My body was trying to retaliate against the injuries. The adrenaline was spiking.

Carlisle entered the room, and at his side, I recognized the footsteps of the girl before. Their footsteps were so distinct now, I could even tell that Carlisle was on the right, and a foot ahead was the girl.

"Listen," the voice beside me told them.

The girl squealed beautifully. I could even hear her bouncing on the balls of her feet, but the loudest sound in the room was my frenzied heart, pounding to the rhythm of the fire.

"Ah," Carlisle said, I heard the fabric of his sleeve move. "Just another forty-six seconds."

I felt the back of my skull press further down at my relief at the closeness of time, but my relief was overshadowed by the excruciating pain in my heart. More swears flashed from my lips, aimed toward them. I could hear a loud, bellowing laughter from downstairs. Laughing at the words I swore as if the person could hear them, but those in the room were not laughing. They must have understood my threats.

My wrists and ankles were now free from the pain. The fire was totally extinguished there, though I felt the grip of two sets of hands placed tighter there.

"Soon," the girl said eagerly, but the edge of her tone grew urgent as I heard the swish of wind as she darted away. "I'll get the others."

"We will need all the help we can get," the southerner mumbled.

My fingers twitched under the grasp— the irritation shining through as I tried to bend my knees. Anything. I needed to move, to extinguish this fire. I counted a set of thirty seconds that had pas had passed. I counted another ten seconds that passed before new multiple footsteps entered the room. I counted three new pairs, one louder than the others, and the familiar girl's steps as she re-entered. Another pair of strong hands were placed down onto my shins, keeping my legs from breaking from their grasp. How many did it take to hold down a slender girl with no coordination and strength of their own? Maybe they had taken my threats seriously as I continued to swear.

"Should we all be in here?" A soft, worried voice spoke. It was only aged slightly more than the previous girl's voice. "Won't we only heighten her panic if she sees so many of us?"

Another woman snorted. "I just hope she makes use of her threats and aims for Edward first for causing this mess."

"Everyone except Emmett, Edward, and I," the southern accent barked an order. "Clear to the corner of the room."

Oh, don't you worry. If I make it through the three of the owners of these hands holding me down, I will make sure to attack that corner soon after.

A union of short gasps echoed in the room. The room went silent besides the jackhammering of my heart as they all stopped breathing for a second in response.

"Isabella?" A hand squeezed my wayward fingers.

"Twenty-two seconds," Carlisle spoke. Even though the rage that I was feeling for this man continued its presence, the thought of kissing him for keeping me updated ran through my thoughts.

Another death coiling scream erupted from me as my body tried to buck off the table as the fire ripped hotter through my chest, draining in from my elbows and knees.

And then— oh god no! Please!

My heart took off, beating like helicopter blades, the sound almost a single sustained note, grinding through my ribs. The fire flared up in the center of my chest, pulling and sucking the last remnants of the flames from the rest of my body to fuel the most scorching blaze yet. The pain stunned me as my scream roared louder in the room. I almost couldn't even recognize it as my own. My back arched further, bowed as if the fire was dragging me upward by my heart.

Was God finally allowing me to enter his realm?

It became a battle inside me — my sprinting heart racing against the attacking fire and both were losing. The fire was doomed the minute the pace quickened, already having consumed everything that was combustible. My heart galloped toward its last beat.

"Oh Carlisle, that poor girl," the older woman's voice spoke, her tone laced with worry.

"Five... four…" Carlisle whispered so quietly to the worried woman, but I couldn't listen anymore.

The fire constricted, concentrating inside that one remaining organ with a final, unbearable surge. And my heart shuddered, giving up it seemed. The surge was answered by a deep, hollow-sounding thud, and my heart thudded quietly again just once more.

There was no sound. No breathing. Not even mine.

For a moment, the absence of pain was all I could comprehend.

And then I opened my eyes and gazed above me in wonder. The thoughts of rage and inflicting death did not come across my mind as my hand grabbed onto the last place of pain I could find on my body. The burn in my throat.

"It's showtime," A deep voice near me chuckled with eagerness.

Chapter 2:

"Isabella?" The voice was like an echo now, as my eyes scanned above me.

Everything was so clear. Sharper and more defined than they were before— before?

I felt my body become rigid, the muscles in my legs tightening as I stared above me. I could plainly see the glowing strands of the filaments inside the bulb, but I knew that was unnatural for my eyes, right? I continued, seeing each color of the rainbow in the white light, and, at the very edge of the spectrum, an eighth color I had no name for.

My eyes didn't stop there as they investigated further, distinguishing the individual grains in the dark wood ceiling above. In front of it, I could see the dust motes in the air, the sides of the light touched, and the dark sides, distinct and separate. They spun like planets, moving around each other in a celestial dance. So… beautiful

This wasn't right— these eyes could not be my own.

I inhaled in shock, watching as the air whistled down my throat, swirling the motes into a vortex. My hand collided against my chest at the awkward feeling that had occurred. It felt wrong to breathe. I felt no relief from breathing, but the tastes of my surroundings swirled onto my tongue. The tastes of the dust, the warm scent of the wooden walls, the old smell of the home, and the stagnant air mingled with the flow of slightly cooler air from the open door. The taste of the lush whiff of silk sheets beneath me.

My attention grew back to the pain. The overwhelming dryness in my throat. I had never felt so parched in all my life that it hurt. It absolutely burned. My hand flew to my throat, pressing onto it hard in hopes that the pressure would alleviate the pain— an unsuccessful attempt. I sat up immediately from the bed, feeling my eyes going wild as I became distracted at the site above me once more. Looking back at the light at the designs on the wooden ceiling, at the swirling dust motes. It made no sense.

I couldn't understand what I was seeing, or how. It was much too clear. My eyes nor dreams have ever been this clear.

Through the other tastes, there was a faint hint of something warm and desirable, something that should be moist but wasn't. I felt my shoulders become rigid once more as the smell brought back the pain that was determined to attain my attention. I wanted to cough, but I couldn't find that giving me relief. My throat burned, but not such a burn that water could fix it. I couldn't identify what could quench my thirst.

There was a small shuffle of fabric towards my right, causing my attention to fall directly onto the form of a man beside me. My eyes widened as I took in the detail of him. A man who looked so similar to the mythical Greek god, Adonis. His features were almost perfect and angular with high cheekbones and a strong jawline with perfect eyebrows, a straight nose, and full lips. The only unperfect thing about him was his untidy hair which was such an unusual bronze shade along with the purple bruise-like shadows under his eyes. And his eyes were so dark, almost an onyx black. He was so perfect, that I almost felt as if I could go into shock.

Though, the thought didn't stay long. I looked bewildered at him as air hissed up my throat, spitting through my clenched teeth with a low, menacing sound like a swarm of bees.

"It's showtime," A deep voice from another direction chuckled with eagerness.

My muscles bunched and arched, twisting away from the unknown being in front of me, but two pairs of hands were still gripped onto my legs, holding me down. I looked back at the two of them. Two of the most threatening individuals I have ever seen. The blonde one was tall and lean with skin that was absolutely covered in bite-mark-like scars, thickly placed along his neck and jaw. The thought of where they had come from unsettled me. The other was huge and burly, with dark curly hair. The big muscled one looked at me with a challenging grin, and the blonde looked all too serious. His eyes were hard on me as if he was preparing for my every move. But their grasps were so light. The pressure against my legs was almost nothing.

"Isabella," the musical voice beside me spoke. I didn't get a chance to answer him before I was out of their grasp as I flipped off the table in a spin so fast it should have turned the room into an incomprehensible blur — but it did not.

And the dust motes, I could see each one. Every splinter in the wood-paneled walls, every loose thread in microscopic detail as my eyes whirled past them.

No, stop getting distracted.

I found myself crouching against the wall defensively as I surveyed the room. The blonde and the burly boy were on their way toward me as if seconds were the length of minutes. Time was passing all too slow in the room. And panic took over once again as they grew closer.

I felt my legs extend from the crouch, feeling myself launch into the air into a flip over the two of them and the bronze-haired boy. It was as if my body knew exactly the direction it should go to avoid the danger, landing me directly in front of the window.

My feet slid to a stop, and my arms widened behind me as my fingertips flexed. I was in a half-crouch again, looking at the three boys, and then noticing four figures in the corner. The first one I noticed was a tall, pale man with white-blonde hair. Next to him was a woman with a heart-shaped face and caramel-colored hair. And the two others: perhaps the most beautiful blonde woman I had ever seen, as if not too long ago I had recognized her beauty. It was almost too painful to look at. And then, next to her, smiling in delight was a short, pixie-like girl with dark spiked hair.

Another unrecognizable but maniacal sound slipped through my clenched teeth at the rest of them. My eyes once again slipped to the Greek statue of a man whose face held guilt as he stared back at me walking so slowly in my direction. As if he were trying to hide his movements towards me, but my attention was placed on my throat once again as my fingers clenched around it.

I fell to the floor, snarling as I cried in agony at the burn.

"Isabella," The musical voice was next to me, so close as his arms enveloped me. I pressed my face into his chest, tasting his scent that was an almost-honey-lilac-and-sun-flavored scent. The scent was so strong, filling every inch of my senses, pooling into my throat. But I remembered his voice. I remembered it all too well now.

I had wanted to cling to him to safety when I was writhing on my deathbed. Begging him to stop the fire, and he did not.

"Edward, wait—" a voice began.

I heard the growl grumble from my throat I moved out of his arms, lifting my own up and around him as I hooked my right arm over his shoulder around to the other side, encasing his head against my chest. I felt his hands protest, but the force wasn't enough to break mine.

But before I could make another move, I heard a feminine scream, and two large arms had grabbed me instantaneously as the boy broke free from my grasp. My body was pushed against the wooden wall with a loud thud, causing the bookcase in the room to tip over and rattle onto the floor.

"Stop this," The southern accent barked at me. "Heal!"

Heal? Was I a dog to these people? A dog that they held under flames and torment.

My head was slammed against the wall once more, my right cheek pressed firmly against the splintering wood that did not harm me.

"STAND DOWN!" He ordered.

"Get the hell away from me!" I yelled, but my voice was unrecognizable to me. I inhaled in shock once again, and the burn in my throat grabbed my attention. I wanted to cry, to scream in pain as it was the most uncomfortable feeling that I could not identify how to relieve.

"Jasper!" The older female voice scolded. "Stop being so rough with the poor girl! She is still a lady and she's terrified! Possibly starving!"

"You don't think I don't know that?" He voiced hissed in her direction. "She's a goddamn newborn! Her emotions are uncontrollable right now."

"Between the two of us, I think we got her, dude," The deep voice echoed above me. I looked up at the amused smile on his face and the tilted eyebrow. Was he taunting me?

It was like my body was creating its own reactions — my teeth chomped in his direction as ravenous noises came from my own throat.

He chuckled, wrapping his large arm around my back, holding tight onto my waste, and the blonde one with his hands held tightly onto my shoulders. But it was the boy again who reminded me of Adonis that walked towards me, his palm raised at the two holding me firmly.

"Isabella," Adonis spoke softly to me. "Do you remember who I am?"

As I tried to break free of their hold, my eyes locked back onto the beautiful man before me, and I blinked.

"Do you remember what happened to you?"

I blinked at him again, unable to form a thought in my mind. Everything I tried to conjure up was as if they were blurred memories of someone else. I recognized the people in them, but the quality image of the memories made me believe they were so distant ago, but then my mind placed his face. Edward Cullen from the cafeteria. The Edward Cullen, from biology class, who looked disgusted by my presence beside him. The Edward Cullen who ran out of the classroom and tried to change his schedule. The Edward Cullen who—

He was in my bedroom. The memory felt so distant as the image was blurry, but I could place him there in my room right after I got back from school.

I had gone home, deciding on ideas of what to cook Charlie for dinner that night, but it was a long day. I had wanted to go upstairs and put my things away, and when I opened the bedroom door, there he was, staring at me. I hadn't known how he had gotten into my room, but he was there, at the end of my bed. At first, I could remember he looked flustered. His fingers had gripped firm onto the post of my bed, staring at me with those black onyx eyes. It was his posture that gave him away that he was not sure of what he would do. He was so rigid and undecided. But his mind must have been made up when his lips curled behind his perfect row of teeth. And then, and then—

"You attacked me!" I snarled at him. "You— you set me on fire!"

He shook his head. Was he denying what he had done?

"You did!" I accused him again. "All of you did! You watched me burn and did nothing!" I could feel a sticky wet drool slipping off my teeth and over my lips as I snarled at the rest of them. They all looked worried, guilty almost. I didn't care. "I don't care what sick twisted crap you guys do to amuse yourselves, but you abducted me! You put me through agony and torment! You all deserve to rot in hell!"

"Isabella —"

"Don't call me that!" I seethed. "Let me go! Just let me go!" I writhed in their tight hold. My attempts were futile. All the effort I put into my freedom, and it not succeeding only increased my panic. I wanted to scream and sob, but only a burning sensation would form in my eyes. No tears would spill.

There was a long pause before he continued.

"Bella," Edward began in a low, calming tone, but the worry in his voice layered my name with tension. "I just need you to calm down."

My eyes shot back up at him, and I could feel the enraged fire that was coursing through my judgment once more.

"Calm down?!" I screeched. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" I shook my shoulders frantically trying to get out of two threatening holds. "What have you done to me! Let go of me!"

"Edward, she's not calming down," The deep voice echoed sarcastically. I looked up at him, and through my recognition, I realized this was Emmett Cullen. His face blurred through my memories of the lunchroom, but it was him. I just knew it was. And to my left, I recognized Jasper Hale.

Edward's eyes looked pointedly in Emmett's direction with annoyance.

"We will explain everything we can to you, but first—"

"She needs to feed, Edward." It was the pixie that answered for him, who I now seeing through my eyes had been able to recognize as Alice Cullen. My eyes widened at her. It was all of them. Every single one of them was here. "It's the only way any of this will de-escalate."

Edward nodded, turning his face behind him to the tall blonde male who I assumed had to be their foster dad, Carlisle. The doctor. My eyes narrowed on him. When he noticed, his smile grew apologetically as he nodded back to Edward and left the room through the door, closing it behind him.

A door! My escape!

But their grasp only was more solid around me. I felt my knees bend in defeat as I slumped in their grasp. I stared wildly at the door, hearing footsteps further away, possibly down a staircase as I could hear him making his way around the house. The place must have been large, but now I could hear him opening a door with a soft humming noise as he removed plastic contents from it and closed the door behind him. Then his movements shifted again, opening wooden cabinets, and removing an item from them as he placed the object onto the counter. He must have been in the kitchen.

"Bella," Edward began.

"Shh!" I quieted him. I was too focused on listening.

Then, the sound of something plastic ripped, and the smell… oh god the smell was intensifying. My vision practically was going red as I could feel my mouth salivating once more as my lips parted. The scent, even so far away, was so apparent to me. I could practically taste it on my tongue. And I knew then what would relieve the burn in my throat. I knew then what I craved. It was whatever was downstairs in the kitchen.

My thoughts grew into a frenzy. All I could think of was the contents downstairs, hearing the liquid drizzling, into what I assumed was a cup. I was snarling at my two captors that still held their grip firm around me as I snapped at the air. I was screaming, yelling for them to let me go. I didn't care about anything else. It was the scent that permeated downstairs that I wanted. It was all that I wanted.

Carlisle's footsteps raced up the stairs and into the room, carrying two large cups of dark liquid in each. He looked back at me his eyebrows pressed together as he frowned with an apology once again. But I didn't care for whatever he was apologizing for. I knew what I wanted. I knew exactly what I needed.

"You need to be the one to give it to her, Edward," He held the cups out to him.

Edward's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but they rested once again as he took the cups from Carlisle. He looked back at me, and I could see in the reflection of his dark eyes that I was practically feral. My entire body flung around as the two men still grasped their arms around me. I could see their own faces that appeared less confident than they had before.

"Just put the cup up to her lips, and tilt it into her mouth," Alice instructed.

Edward nodded as he approached, holding one cup outstretched towards me as he closed the distance. The scent was intoxicating. I felt as if I hadn't had a drink in weeks after walking a long distance in a desert. Even heaven took a new form, and that new form was the dark liquid in the cup. That liquid would be my savior.

Edward hesitated, looking back at the two boys who still held true to me. He looked behind him at the others and nodded his head towards the door. They seemed to have understood what he had been referring to, and left the room, closing the door behind them.

"What are you doing?" Jasper asked impatiently. "Give her the cup."

Edward shook his head. "Let her go first."

"Dude. That actually sounds like a terrible idea," Emmett replied.

"She's not an animal," Edward hissed. "This is what she wants. She's not going to go anywhere else."

But their grip on me only grew firmer as my eyes never left the sloshing liquid in the cup. It was practically glowing as if it was the most precious thing, I had ever laid my eyes on in my existence.

"Just do it," Edward growled.

They were hesitant, I felt it, but their hold loosened from around me, and once I felt free from their grasp, I launched myself forward at Edward.

Some of the liquids sloshed onto the floor, but I had been surprisingly careful about this cup as I poured the liquids down my throat. The taste wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped it would be, but once the second cup had been handed to me, I didn't care. The fire in my throat was extinguishing fast, and I was so relieved for it.

I hadn't realized Carlisle left the room again, but he had returned with three more cups in his hands that he handed to Edward who handed them instantly to me. I drowned down the rest of the contents of each cup, gasping at the air around me that gave me no relief. I hadn't even noticed before, but I wasn't breathing between my gulps. I didn't need to breathe or felt as if it was a source for survival. I only did it out of habit. How strange.

And then there were more cups on the table next to the bed. Edward held his hand up to stop me from proceeding toward them. Only moments ago, I would have wanted to rip that hand clean off his arm, but now I felt more in control. My throat still burned, but not as much as before. It was manageable now.

I didn't pay any attention to the blood that was splattered on my shirt from the first several cups, but now I paid very close attention to the last four that were handed to me. I wanted to be careful with each of them, wanting to savor every drop of dark liquid. I was slumped against the back wall, staring at Edward, Emmett, Jasper, and Carlisle as the cup was tilted in my mouth, allowing the liquid to pour down my throat.

I only stared, and they stared back. No words.

As I finished the last cup, I noticed there were no more extras in the room. I looked down disappointedly at the empty one in my hand, allowing my fingers to graze over my throat, noticing the lingering uncomfortable feeling.

"It still… feels strange," I admitted.

"It's always going to," Edward replied, slowing creeping towards me. "Animal blood only curves the thirst."

My eyes widened at him, feeling my jaw drop so slightly. "Blood?"

His mouth tightened into a line.

"Esme is going to be so upset about having to clean up this mess," Emmett chuckled, nodding towards the stained white carpet.

I don't know why I didn't realize it until now, but the contents in each glass were not only just a dark liquid— it was red. I waited for nausea to overcome me. Waiting for the lingering scent of the blood to cause me to keel over. But I waited and waited, and it never came. Only the burn in my throat grew again, and I could feel my mouth water once again as I stared back up at Edward in front of me.

"You're still young, so your thirst will be more accelerated than ours."

Ours? My eyebrows knitted together in thought. Why would anyone need to drink blood? Why did I, and why did it taste so good?

"Bella?" The musical voice grabbed my attention again. "Talk to me. What are you thinking right now?"

I shook my head, looking around the room again as I thrummed my fingers against the empty cup in my hands. The dust motes were in swirls again around the room, clinging onto the furniture as they settled. I stared at each one in a small proximity. I couldn't even form coherent thoughts. Everything was so scrambled. Only repeated images of the last few moments, or maybe even days flashed through my mind. I winced at the reminder of the pain, where I then heard hesitant footsteps coming toward me.

I looked up, noticing Edward and Jasper were closer now, but Edward's arm was outstretched in front of Jasper, blocking his path towards me. I hissed at the blonde vampire whose eyes grew hard on my face.

"Edward, her emotions are rapidly changing."

"She's managing. Allow her to find her own way to control them."

"Ed—"

"She's fine," Edward growled. "Leave the house if you cannot control your own authoritative instincts."

My eyes gawked at the wavering tension between the two. Emmett was near the bed with his arms crossed against his chest as he stared at the two of them waiting for instruction or perhaps just watching for his own entertainment. He had noticed me looking in his direction and winked at me with the same amused smile on his face.

My eyebrows furrowed at him, causing him to laugh out loud.

Why was he laughing at me? My thoughts fumed in his direction, causing another bellowing laugh to escape from him as his head tilted back.

And before I knew it, I was at his throat, forcing him down onto the bed. It was so strange being able to so easily take down a large burly man of this stature. I almost hadn't been able to believe it myself, because it had even taken me by surprise. I stared back at him for only a second, trying to assess his resistance under my grasp. It was almost as if he hadn't even tried to stop me. But, that thought was quickly diminished when his eyes widened up at me. No fear was evident within their depths. His grin grew wide, with an expression that I could only decipher as amazement.

"Damn, Edward." His laugh was strained. "You really picked a feisty one."

My grip grew firmer.

He began to cough, trying to laugh through his closed airway as I snarled over him. I tested my fingers against the side of his neck, feeling for any room to grip further. But my arms were captured and restrained behind me as I was pulled off of him. Emmett coughed once more, sitting himself up on the bed and echoing another laugh.

"Rose would have gotten so jealous if she saw that," he continued his strained laughter.

I tried to break free of the hands that restrained me, but I knew who it was. The scent of him was grained into my memory. I almost didn't even want to look at him and see the betrayal as he restrained me. I thought he didn't want me to be treated like an animal? Completely circumstantial, it seemed.

But as the thought grew, I also looked back at Emmett once more. I may have practically mauled him and tore his eyes out if Edward didn't stop me. I wasn't even sure if it was possible, but I would have tried. Reluctantly, I craned my neck to look at Edward over my shoulder whose eyebrows were pinched tightly together. My eyes darted between his as I searched his face for a clue. I couldn't tell what he was thinking as he held my wrists tightly behind me. It was a mere series of emotions written in that one expression that was hardened on my face. But he didn't deserve to have the time to think any of his thoughts through. He did this to me. He set the fire to scorch my body without considering the consequences. Let this be difficult for him, I thought to myself.

"Bella," Edward spoke softly. "There is a lot we need to explain to you."

"Great," I snarled through my teeth, pinning him with my glare.

A/N

And there you have it. I won't go any further with this story. I just wanted to form this idea in my head and write it down in a word document. I basically wanted to explore an idea where Edward could not control his thirst and did bite Bella, but he had been so riddled with guilt that he couldn't completely drain her and thus, the transformation begins.

I know in Breaking Dawn she practically was the perfect newborn, but as we all know, that had a lot to do with her mental preparation for becoming one, and her love for Edward being a great distraction. So, this story was to bring in what could have happened if she didn't have all of that. If she went through this transformation without any knowledge of the supernatural world around her.

I hope you all enjoyed this short story.

-o- So, many of you have mentioned that you would like me to continue this story. Well, problem is, I have 2 other stories I haven't updated in quite a while because I am in a long, dreadful process of trying to finish my Biology Degree. Here is some advice about college: Don't get dumb advisors who ruin your track and put you in classes you've never needed, or didn't put you on the Veterinarian track the entire time so now you are missing classes that you have to make up for even though you were supposed to graduate this SPRING and cannot because you now have to come back in the FALL! :') ... Anyways. If I were to continue this story, the next chapter would follow after a discussion with the Cullens about everything Bella needs to know, and then probably a major time jump. Like... a year or 2. I would probably do some context before that to just express how Bella is handling the newborn phase, but my thoughts went elsewhere with that idea. So, a continuation is a maybe. Not a definite. So, please don't get your hopes up...