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There's a new girl in the town of Forks, she's smart, musical and down to earth. Sound like anyone we know? So what happens when she meets the Cullens? ES FINITO! Also some people haven't realized this, I changed the title of this from, 'A New Point of veiw' to it's current title 'Afterlife'. Sorry for the confusion! Also in this and all of my other stories the pictures do not belong to me I don't claim them in any way what so ever and I put who does own them in the chapter. Don't sue me please.colorful-12.gif image by Erka_03Someone left me a review with a banner! I was so happy but then my mouse got knocked and the review got deleted. So if you are that amazing person who made me a banner, can you please try and put it in another review? I would be eternally greatfull.

I own none of the characters in the fabulous Twilight Saga. The rest however are figments of my imagination. For anyone who knows me I picked the name for the main character because I couldn't think of a better one, and once I put it in there it just worked.

3. Chapter 3

Rating 3.5/5   Word Count 889   Review this Chapter

Chapter 3

I didn’t know what was really happening until I put a force field between the guy who was kicking, and whoever was cowering on the floor. I pushed the force field back far enough that the guy was backed up to the wall.

Then I ran over to the girl on the floor. She was hurt pretty bad and was obviously the source of the thoughts screaming:

No, no, please stop, not again no, no…

Thank goodness I got here, was all I could really think, it looked like she has some broken ribs, lots of cuts and bruises. Oh, why in my 107 years on this earth did I not bother to learn some kind of first aid?

Phone! I took out my phone and dialed 911. But I didn’t want to release the force field just yet. So, I made it looked like I kicked the door open. Hey, I was wearing Combat Boots! It could happen! Then held the girl’s hand till the police got there.

As soon as they walked in the door I put down the force field, and let the medics take the girl. She was about 30 and had a wedding band on her finger. Automatically, I felt sad, I just couldn’t help it, but I couldn’t get sad right then the police probably wanted to ask me questions. So I touched the ring on the third finger of my right hand and faced the police.

They asked me a lot of questions. I made up a story about how I lived two doors down and was feeling really sick, so I went outside to get some fresh air. I walked by the house and heard some screaming. This wasn’t the best neighborhood and was afraid that someone was getting robed. I knocked on the door, and when nobody answered I got scarred, there was still screaming, and I kicked open the door. I pulled whoever the guy was away and called the police. Pretty convincing right?

But it got to be a problem when they asked about how old I was. I told them I was 18 and going to college at Northwestern. I told them I was sharing the apartment with four other people who went there. I was sure they would ask to see our apartment and realize we were four under aged orphans who didn’t feel like being in an orphanage, when they hauled the dude away.

Okay fine I’ll admit it didn’t go off without a hitch. The guy happened to be screaming about how I was a freak of nature. But I figured no one would listen to a guy who was abusing his wife. So I went home and told everyone what happened. I had no choice in the matter there. The sirens woke them up.

I really wish I was right about they wouldn’t listen to him.

Two days later, social services were knockin’ at our door. Turned out they listened to the guy when he said that I was only seventeen and was living with three other seventeen year olds. Two of which being of the opposite sex. I guess he didn’t like that he couldn’t have me locked up in a mental institute.

Heck, we couldn’t compete with that. Technically it was all true. I was changed at seventeen and the rest of the guys were all seventeen too. Though we did stress the matter that we were not smoking, drinking, or anything else irresponsible. Maxi stressed that fact to the point of breaking when he nearly puked when they asked if any of us were seeing each other.

It still wasn’t enough though. They had so much stuff piled against us. We were sent to the dreaded orphanage.

I got really lucky when they asked me about my past. A few years ago I registered a family who came from Australia, with their fifteen year old daughter and wanted to become Americans. The fake family moved to Sycamore, Illinois. Then a year later the couple died in a car accident. There I went to the point of blowing up a car, and dressing up as an old lady to report the accident. I was relived when that story checked out.

I pretended that I got on a bus and came to Chicago. Met up with the guys at a café (which was true) and we started a band. Bridge filled in the rest of the details. How we got the apartment etc.

But then our luck ran out. The social services decided a big city was not good for us and opted to send us to a small town in Washington, called Forks. They wanted to separate us too but we all threw an organized fit, and with that happy note they decided otherwise.

They put us on a train to Washington, Forks and that was the end of our stay in Chicago. Maxi would not stop complaining that we were going to a town that was named after silver ware. All I could think about was how I was leaving the place where my life started, where I lost my parents, my twin brother, everything. I had never left Illinois, and now I was moving at 80 mph, half way across the country. And I was not happy.