Renesmee’s Diary – Shadows

October 17, 2010

Dear Diary,

I didn’t understand how I could be lost in such a beautiful scene. How a voice so beautiful and as captivating could do quite the reverse of it’s purpose; haunt. It was almost as if I were dreaming, but I wasn’t. The visions in my head of the pale, blond-headed creature were so realistic, yet so distant. I could only picture her with a blurry watercolor aura.

She was moving swift, thrashing through every thick branch and leaf, itching for satisfaction. One whiff of my scent and she was pursuing me like no other mortal I’ve ever seen or heard of. She stalked me everywhere; like a shadow, she never let up. One moment she was there, then she disappeared in a flash.

I was curious of her and wished to see her in my visions, hoping I could decipher her whereabouts and her intentions. Was her motive to kill me? I understood she had something to do with me because her voice was mine.

Then a gruesome thought blossomed….could this girl possibly be me? Could the pursuer with the blonde curls and evil twinkle in her eye actually be me, Renesmee Cullen?

No, of course not I scolded myself, shaking off the unpleasant thought.

I managed to creep down the stairs into the Cullen kitchen hustling with activity. Instead of nibbling on my typical cornflakes, I devoured an entire glass of blood.

“Yeah, I was just going to have the same thing,” Jake said with sarcasm as he strolled in, obviously ready to munch on whatever breakfast delight appeased him.

But I wasn’t giggling like I should have, like I normally would have. There was nothing more awkward than having your werewolf boyfriend actually witness you drink human blood. And to add even more frustration, all these visions and a sense of unexplained fear had me thinking uncanny thoughts.

No, I couldn’t see the future. But I was certain I was having these visions for a reason. Perhaps they were to protect me? Maybe there is a buried message beneath each image of the blondie.

“You’re not laughing. Is everything ok, babe?” Jacob was now crunching on bacon, attempting to be serious admits the utmost distractions of breakfast treats.

“No, it’s not. Everyone is keeping a secret from me, and I intend to figure it out,” I spat out, throwing away all the exasperating thoughts in my mind. I knew I shouldn’t, but this sense of being in danger was biting at me.

There was only one person I could rely on to reveal the truth; Jacob. Why? Because of imprinting abilities, Jacob cannot turn down any request. Now before I’m called to Satan’s throne, I have reason to do this. If I am in possible danger, or someone is in turmoil, it is just that – as a member of the family – I should hear of it (especially if it involves me). If an immortal is plotting to kill me, I prefer to have it known, rather than unknown.

Jake just raised his brow, taken aback.

“Nessie, I assure you there’s nothi–”

“Tell me Jacob, now. I need to know what it is this family is buzzing about,” I ordered, not sparing him any sympathy, engulfing in my own selfishness.

“Alright, alright. On the night of the pack’s day off, your father and uncles picked up an unrecognizable scent. It’s just the occasional nomad passing through and your father just wanted to keep precautions with you.” He glared into my eyes,  uncontrollably spilling every detail.

I nodded, feeling the wave of guilt flood through my body.

“Thank you,” I returned with a genuine kiss. He deserved far more than a simple peck of the lips, but I needed to investigate my situation further. I skipped my way over to the massive living room – that now served as home to the 100-inch flat-screen T.V.

Could this nomad be the unforgiving creature in my visions? Was this “nomad” even a nomad “passing through?” Or was their more on her agenda then a few human bites? Was this all a coincidence? And most importantly, if my assumptions are correct – based on my visions – why is this hunter fishing for me? Particularly me?

These are questions that would never be answered because……

“Why did you tell her, mongrel? Now she’ll be worrying like there’s no tomorrow!” I’d never heard my Uncle Emmett so furious. But of all people, I’d rather have it be him angry than my own father. Is it too late to defend Jake’s relentless position?

“Emmett, please stop. I’m trying to accumulate a plan,” my dad hissed. He was endlessly rubbing his temples as if searching for peace. Should I offer the truth? I certainly didn’t want Jacob to suffer for something that wasn’t his own fault; something that was my fault.

“Leave him be. It’s not his fault, Emmett,” Esme chimed, placing an encouraging pat on Jake’s shoulder.

To my dismay, my father already began to unearth his plan. Jasper did the best of his abilities to wave peace amongst everyone.

“…….We’ll have to be aggressive. Alice senses from her visions that this nomad is not in a pure state of mind,” my father continued, addressing the entire family. My mom rushed to his side incapacitated with worry while Rosalie kept a firm stare on Jacob.

It was quite awkward though, however, that Carlisle presented no sign of resentment towards my father’s brutal strategies against this nomad. If a compassionate character such as Carlisle was agreeing to the plan, there was definitely something off about this nomad. Of course, the Cullens always take care of passing nomads cautiously, but this was obviously out of proportion.

Though I was in another room, they were all discussing the details at a volume high enough for my ears. I was left with nothing but curiosity. Why would my family let me hear the plans? Sure,  I know there is a nomad on the loose; but with Carlisle agreeing to such viscous ideals…. I just couldn’t tolerate how unusual this seemed. Carlisle must have had a reason to concur to my father’s proposals. This reason, I fear, deeply involves me.

Jake would have to rally the entire pack which added more exasperation to my concerns on this nomad matter. It was a simple formula: The Cullens + The Pack=Major Battle Trouble.


Dear Diary,

When Jacob sent me to Emily’s kitchen, I didn’t assume – I knew – exactly of the events that were about to occur. A struggle. A battle to cease the predator from hunting its victim, me. Jake didn’t mention much but to prepare overnight belongings for a “sleepover.” Alice had already jumped onto to that, despite my pleas to stay home. Having packed for me, Alice  included a Chanel skin care set, Victoria Secret sleepwear (I’d have to scold her later), and other “sleepover” necessities.

Jacob’s surface was calm with reassurance of how much fun staying at Emily’s would be for the night – and I played along with him. I did it, not for anyone, but Jake’s sake. He was the most sensitive to my safety—in equivalence to my father, but more prudent towards me. So I faked a dainty grin and attempted to bear what ever fate was to come.

“I won’t let you suffer on that couch,” Emily implied, sanitizing Embry’s bedroom for my use. It was true, the pack’s couch was one not worth sleeping on, let alone sitting on. It was a scraggly haven that had been beaten up by the forceful pressures of the wolves that abused it.

“Thank you, Emily… for being so generous and thoughtful.”

“We’re all in the same boat, aren’t we?” She replied, and I questioned her words immensely. Was she relating to the fact that we were forever “wolf girls?” Or did this have to do with the fact that everyone has a downfall? That, my misfortune affected everyone? I didn’t want to make false presumptions so I abandoned the absurd thoughts.

Emily and I occupied the time by painting each others nails and applying the Chanel face mask and scrub. Emily certainly got a kick out of her cherry red toes as she had “never had taste for it before I convinced her.” I wasn’t the least bit astonished, I seemed to have a way with luring people to do the unimaginable. It was also a bit overwhelming for the both of us because neither of us had adhered to the concept of “sleepovers” before.

But the beauty results of the moisturizers – that Alice packed – really cleared our pores and doubtful perspective on sleepovers. We did enjoy ourselves, so much in fact that it distracted me enough to not constantly think of the horror that must be happening with my family and the pack.

Before hopping into bed, Em’ and I decided to look through her photo album.

At first, photos of Em’ as a young child on the Makah Reservation were displayed.

“Very adorable, Emily. Who’s that?” I pointed to a distant figure wading in shallow water. Emily chuckled lightly, as if remembering an inside joke.

“That’s my father, Matthew Senior. He was very enchanting and captured even the most bitter audience. He was known in the tribe as the ‘storyteller,” she explained, smiling back at the priceless memories.

“My father is dead. So, he won’t be able to walk me down the aisle or tell those magical stories of his.” The room collapsed in a sorrowful silence.

But we kept going; the pages were turned and unfolded to display high school memories of prom and graduation. Everything a human should experience in his life lied there in those pages. Because of my growth, I would never be able to experience these adventures and challenges in life until my growth came to a complete halt.

“And this is where I am today,” Em’ stated, shutting the album.

“No, not quite yet,” I said and Emily formed a puzzled expression, trying to decode my message.

I swiftly grasped my cellphone and snapped a picture of the two of us. After all, we did have a marvelous “girl’s night,” didn’t we? I guess Em’ and I are officially “close friends” now. It seemed a bit odd having a friend that was the same sex. Jake was all I had ever had, but it appears a girlfriend is necessary, too.

It’s so simple to talk, gossip and even cook with Em’. She makes chores a breeze by educating me on the history of the Makah Tribe (it is just highly intriguing). Maybe this new friendship and well-seamed bond also added more reason as to why it was us of all the other single females on this planet who were selected as imprints. Was this destiny? Or just a pure coincidence? Believe what you wish to believe, but I support the destiny theory. Sure, it might make less sense, but isn’t that what my entire world is about? The whole “mythical creature world?” Does any of it actually make sense?

It was then after more chatter of Emily and Sam’s wedding plans that my eyelids had a massive weight gain. After a final farewell for the night, I raced for my bed. If I hadn’t been so exhausted from all the girly activities, I might have began fretting over the possible events in action from this struggle with the nomad.

On top of all the headaches the worrying was causing, Embry’s mattress was not cozy. Yes, my bed at home is made of some expensive materials specifically designed to enhance lushness, but that doesn’t mean I have no knowledge of a decent sleeping ground. Like the couch, the mattress suffered grave damage and the springs wouldn’t let up, either.

With one-hundred percent desperation, I gingerly tip-toed through the corridor to Jacob’s room. One might smell repulsing body odor and an untidy room, but I didn’t. To me, I smelled Jacob, my love. Putting into consideration the circumstances and strain curiosity has placed upon me, I grabbed a wrinkled T-shirt. I climbed onto his ginormous bed (which I’d been told was more than triple the size of his previous bed back in La Push), and held the shirt for comfort.

Entering someone’s room without permission was indeed impolite, especially when you clutch their clothing dearly to your heart. In my defense, I’m positive Jake wouldn’t have minded the least bit. It wasn’t like I was inspecting his room or anything. Just breathing through these elements led me to serenity and sweet dreams.

Time for shut eye,

-Nessie <3


Renesmee's Diary

This entry was written by Alexandra Puccia. She was the writer of Renesmee's Diary before Sabrina took over. Alexandra is a true talent and we're so happy to have met her and believe she will go on to do amazing things!
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