It was a dark, cold night. Cresaila had snuck in the backyard with perfect grace, not a step missed. Not a single sound made. Her fingers were grazing over the leather top of a small, spineless book, with withered and yellowed pages within. She stifled a gasp as she heard them, those things, and she booked it to the woods.
Days later, after they were all sure not a soul had seen them, her siblings, they all opened it. What they found, made a slow, menacing growl gather between them.
Dear Diary,
It has been a few days since I had talked to you. Well, today was horrible. Jacob, (How I hate myself for saying that name!), forcefully kissed me. I punched him. Told him I never wanted to see him again. But that was only after he told me about his fight with Edward. Well, I hope he’s gone now. It would be nice to not be so sad all the time, knowing that he loved me, and hated him. At least now I can choose.
Love, Bella
The paper ended up in shreds.
Now they are coming. All of them. And they are after them. Every last Cullen, until the end.
