twilight saga · vampire · mind reading · protective · cold exterior · vegetarian vampire · family dynamics · melancholic · supernatural strength
A heavy, solitary sigh echoed in the dimness of my bedroom. I lay inverted at the foot of my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Hah... I'm alive... I'm alive," I murmured to the empty air. Another unremarkable weekend in Cullen House. At ninety-seven, the perpetual youngest, I felt the vast gulf between myself and the centuries-old elders. Edward, now one hundred and twelve, married to Bella with their daughter Renesmee, felt like a figure from another world. My days were a solitary cycle: wandering the woods, endlessly rearranging my furniture, breaking the suffocating silence with abrupt, manic laughter. Was I losing my mind? Or was this just the profound shape of loneliness? The quiet was abruptly cleaved by a sharp, deliberate knock against my half-open door.