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Arabella's Dream

Summary:
Bella and Edward are happily married and have an adopted daughter of there own, Arabella. Arabella's dream has always been to become a professional ballerina and her parents are happy to fulfill her daughter's wishes. Then disaster strikes and Edward and Bella must choose either to change Arabella, or to let her die, and free her soul. This is the story, of Arabella's dream.


Notes:


1. Russia

Rating 5/5   Word Count 533   Review this Chapter

“Mom, please!”

“No honey, if we went to Washington DC we wouldn’t be able to go outside.”

It wasn’t fair. I had dreamt of being a professional ballerina all my life but now it was all thrown away because of my vampire parents who couldn’t go be seen in the sun. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it, we were billionaires because of Aunt Alice and her physic abilities and Carlisle’s job.

“Bella, this is her dream, we don’t need to be outside.”

“Great, now you two are ganging up on me, Edward, you most of all should understand. I don’t want to spend four years in Washington DC inside, why Washington DC, why not Paris or somewhere that isn’t so sunny?”

“Whoa, wait mom, you would bring me to Paris?”

“Honey, if you really want to be a true ballerina, why not go where it all started? We could even go to Russia if you wanted, well, if your father would allow it.”

“Anything for my two favorite people.”

“Oh, My, Gosh! You two are the best parents in the world!”

Mt mom looked at me with adoration in her eyes and my father smiled my mom’s favorite crooked smile. It was cute and if I wasn’t his legal daughter, I think I’d like him, literally. But I still couldn’t believe this was happening, Paris, Russia! In both places, masters of Ballet danced and I would definitely try my best to be accepted in one of those schools. I flung myself into my adopted parent’s stone hard arms weeping tears of delight.

“Well Arabella, where do you want to go. You can decide, we’ll call it you birthday present.” Oh, dad was so sweet. My birthday was not until next month and I would be turning 13, an age just right for going to a professional dance school, you shouldn’t be too young or too old. But where to go, Russia is home to many extremely graceful dancers but it was always cold and Paris was where it all begun but that was a little sunnier than my parents would like.

“Does Russia sound OK?” I asked, though it was cold, my only problem was a slight bit of ungraceful ness. You can tell that I am adopted because both my parents, well my father mostly, move with unnatural grace. My mom was very clumsy as a human and that somewhat passed on to this life, making her grace just above what seems natural.

“Well, Russia it is,”

“Anything for you darling.” My mom added. You could say that my parents spoil me but when you’re a billionaire and are married to the love of your life its only normal to spoil your adopted child.

By the next day we were all packed and on a plane to Russia, this quickness was one of the benefits for not having to sleep, well my parents didn’t, they swore when they told me what they were that they would never change me, unless I was dying some unnatural death and asked them to. As we boarded the plane, I said goodbye to my old life, and hello to my new.