Chapter 2 – Celebratory Detachment

The walk to the main house would help to clear my head.  The fresh air filled my lungs with the scent of nature.  I couldn’t imagine a more pleasant home.  Trees crowded in to comfort me, branches reaching out to brush my arms as I passed, encouraging me onward.  They were greeting me, wishing me a wonderful evening.  I stepped cautiously, not wanting my heels to sink into the earth below them.

I heard a rustle in the leaves about a quarter mile behind me.  Instinctively, I sniffed the air, annoyed that the creature was downwind of me and I couldn’t figure out which one of them it was.

It wasn’t the vampires.  They could be trusted to fulfill their end of the bargain; the conversation about my birthday party.  My attendance had specific conditions.  Alice was the only one to argue my wishes, and she had hoped that she could embellish with child-like motif for one more year.  Being in charge of the decorations always delighted her, and the inspirational themes she suggested were nothing short of spectacular.  Helium Hysterics had been one of my favorites.  Everyone had to speak in a high pitch, faux helium type voice the entire night.  It was amusing, to say the least.  Alice had a way of getting everyone involved, whether they wanted to participate or not.  When manipulation and bribery didn’t work, threats were effective.  That was my first birthday party, the beginning of a ritual she delighted over each year after.

Again, the nearly inaudible shifting of undergrowth came from behind me, and I grumbled, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stalk people?”

Not waiting for a response, I picked up my pace.  Whoever it was didn’t really matter.  It wasn’t Jacob.  It was one or another of his little minions sent to do his bidding.  In the last two years, I had spoken to him once in human form.  It was a very brief altercation, void of personal contact.  I let him think I was clueless to his constant vigil within my peripheral vision.   If he’d wanted me to see him, to know he was still watching, he would have made it apparent.   Maintaining a distance between us said far more than words ever could have.  Had I asked for closer contact, he would have given it.  Punishing myself by being without him was the only thing I could do to apologize for what I had asked from him.

Imprinting was far more complex than I’d realized.  I thought it was an easy matter of all life’s forces shifting, and when they did, tunnel vision had the Imprinter seeing nothing but the Imprintee, sewn to her by a million invincible, invisible threads.  Obviously, it wasn’t so simple.  If the puppeteer was unable to move the marionette, then the cords would hang motionless, rotting.  My wolf was torn with grief and disgust about the connection, fighting against it.  I knew the battle wouldn’t last forever, but I had no desire to be the second best selection when the big, bad wolf finally stopped trying to rival Fate.  After all, I wasn’t the one who had Imprinted.  As the Imprintee, I did have a choice.  I didn’t have to settle for anything, regardless of the linkage he thought he had made.  My future might have caused me discomfort and worry, but that was only because it was my future.  No one else could tell me how to live it.  I wouldn’t live it for anyone else.

“Nessie,” called a feminine voice from behind me. “Wait up.”

Leah Clearwater was in Jacob’s pack, and because of that she knew everything about me that Jacob knew and vice versa.  Wolves held no secrets; the pack mind was completely united.  We had formed a sort of friendship, though it surprised everyone.  Leah despised vampires, and since I was half, no one really understood why she would be drawn to me.  I wasn’t suspicious.  Sure, I couldn’t tell her anything I didn’t want repeated, but that was expected, accepted.  She wasn’t deliberately reporting my every move to Jacob.  She didn’t have a choice.  We had that in common.  Our bond stemmed more, in my opinion, from the fact that I was the only other female she felt comfortable with, and I happened to have 14 chromosomes. I sympathized with her,  Like me, she had no one to share her pain with.

She slowed her run when she caught up to me, and we walked quietly together.  While I didn’t generally mind silence, the lack of communication between us shook my nerves.

“Someone thought I needed an escort?” I asked glumly.

“Sorry,” she replied, and I instantly regretted asking her.

Jacob wanted to make sure I didn’t gallivant through the forest unprotected.  Leah had never tried to lie to me.  I really liked that about her.  Her bitter facade faded in my presence, like she could be open about how she was feeling, because it wouldn’t matter to her whether I thought she was tough or mean or sad.  There was no need to put up a formidable guard.  Like most childhood nicknames, pushed aside in maturity, Nessie was gone now, but it didn’t bother me that she still called me that name.  I would always be Nessie to her.

“I actually wanted to come, anyway,” she said, knowing her words had upset me.

Leah did want to come.  It just annoyed me that certain people couldn’t stand back enough to let nature take its course.  So, instead of it being a gesture of friendship, it had been warped into some territorial desire to protect.  It turned a perfectly common stroll with a friend into something weird and unwanted.

“How was your day?” Leah persisted, obviously as distraught as I was.

“It was…quiet,” I admitted.

She sighed dreamily, and I knew she was envious.  We both felt the same sense of intrusion, on different levels.  In her wolf pack, Leah had no private thoughts.  Every little thing she felt and saw was thrust upon the others.  Bitterness and anger helped focus her thoughts, and sometimes she was able to go days without the boys picking up on anything other than the annoying commentary she threw their way.  It was the same with Dad.  He heard everything in my mind, and I was jealous that Mom was the only one gifted with shielding.  Leah had something of an advantage though, in this department.  Not only could they hear her mind, but their thoughts and feelings belonged to her as well.  So, while the struggle continued, at least it was two sided, a glass wall that allowed them to work as a team, as one joined unit.  I couldn’t read minds.  My ability didn’t work like that.  Mine was a giving talent, one-sided, a mirror reflecting back all that I saw.   Was anything ever truly one-sided?  Could I take something, and if so, what would it be?

When we broke through the trees, Leah stopped abruptly, wrinkling her nose at the smell she still hadn’t gotten used to.

“This really stinks,” I joked, watching the smile form at the corners of her mouth, knowing she took my words in the entirely wrong context.

“Yeah, I know,” she retorted.

“Ugh, Leah,” I grumbled.  “I didn’t mean literally.”

She laughed.  She knew what I meant, and backed into the woods a few steps.  I knew she wouldn’t come inside.  No matter how much time passed, she just couldn’t fight the feelings she had about the vampires.  The history and purpose of her being wouldn’t allow her to evolve.  The Quileute tribe and the Cullen Clan were beyond the need for a truce.  The treaty existed as a formality.  My vampire family considered the wolves a new branch of supernatural friends, ones they could share their secret with.  For the wolves, well, they trusted the vampires as individuals, but not their species.  They knew there were other bloodsuckers out there all too eager to wine and dine on humans.  Their purpose shifted from destroying the Cullen name to destroying anything that wasn’t a “vegetarian”. 

That’s what we called ourselves, vegetarians.  We did not drink human blood, and so we were safe from their scrutiny.  Other vampires like us existed, though few and far between.  It was always easy to tell one type from the other, and while the vampires accepted the darker side of their kin, the wolves meant only to protect the mortals, no matter the cost.  So, while it was not a strong friendship, it was an understanding between them.  I stood in the eye of the storm.  Maybe I was the storm. 

Grandfather Cullen very carefully explained to the wolves how to determine the difference by way of the eyes.  Blood-drinkers had red rims, while vegetarians held a golden tint.  He felt it was an important conversation, because with so many strangers drifting in and out over the past years, he didn’t want any unforeseen complications with the Quileute protectors.  While the stand-off with the Volturi had passed with minimal consequences, there was no need to initiate another round.  If the wolf pack started eating a bunch of vampires, it would certainly have grabbed their attention, inviting complications.   

Most of their kind were solitary creatures, traveling in twos.  Groupings were rare, and it sparked certain curiosities that my vampire family held so many unique talents all under one proverbial roof.   Vampires travelled to our home with the intention of finding out what exactly had been powerful enough to stop the Volturi.  The excess visitors had been a joy for the Cullen family, who were finally able to entertain guests.  Grandfather got the opportunity to spread his ideas of vegetarianism.  Alice got to decorate. 

Rosalie even broke through her chilled shell a bit, finally able to embark on the life of a socialite.  Still, her barrier never completely crumbled, and she sometimes left the house for months at a time, with Emmett in tow.  This happened only when she became too comfortable with her current form, guilt-ridden for moving on from the past.  She would take a sort of sabbatical before coming back, Emmett as jovial as she was icy upon return. 

Rosalie and Emmett were suited, each complementing the other.  She was selfish and hard to please, and he thrived on challenge.  They were incredibly passionate about one another to the point it caused confusion.  In one minute they were throwing each other across the lawn into trees, the force shaking through the forest.  In the next minute they were sneaking off together privately, to release frustrations using alternate means.  Their love was strong, and each needed the other.

She claimed she could never leave me.  I took it at face value, knowing Rosalie always did what Rosalie wanted, and if she wanted to come back because of me she would have.  I think she just didn’t like being alone, with only Emmett to marvel over her beauty.  Her ego craved feeding, and it wasn’t hard to notice how accomplished she felt when people awed at her splendor.  She did help me learn the importance of confidence, but I didn’t take it overboard like her.  Vanity wasn’t something I learned from her, but then again, I never had to work to earn my appreciation either.   People gravitated toward me, like I was the spinning core that held everything in place.  I didn’t like being the center of attention, having earned that trait from Mom.  So it was an awkward position to be in.

 “Happy Birthday Nessie,” Leah whispered, as she moved back further into the trees, leaving me alone to celebrate a day reserved for me.

There was a silent moment, and then a rustling, before she phased back into the forest.  Alone at the edge of the lawn, I really wished she would have at least walked me to the door.  Had she stayed another few seconds, I would have begged her to come inside with me.  She probably knew that, and that’s why she bolted.  Smart dog. 

I really didn’t want to face everyone; didn’t know what they would say, what they would expect.  The last seven years had led up to this one moment, the moment of my adulthood.  What now?  Would they fake cry, throw confetti, breathe a sigh of relief that I had finally made it so they could all stop worrying that it would happen? 

The previous year was meant to mark this closure, but apparently I was a late bloomer.  The advancement crept along slowly, not nearly as evident as in my first years of life, but progressing still.  There was worry that my existence would be much shorter lived than anyone anticipated, and it caused everyone in my life to hover too closely; so close, in fact, that I was sure I would be smothered from the attention.  Having personal boundaries was a luxury I went without.  Based on his notes and experiments, Grandfather had calculated that this day, my birthday, would mark the end of my development.   I’d never known him to be wrong.

Taking a deep breath, I was thankful Leah had walked with me.  Had I been alone to stew in my thoughts, I would have never made it to the house.  Annoying or not, Jacob had been right to send her, even if he was too drool-minded to realize she would come on her own.  As an Alpha, his brain worked mechanically, full of tactical and revised plans.  I was his back-up plan.  If he couldn’t figure out how to break the binding, he would settle for me.  Well, I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for that to happen. 

That night, I would tell all of them.  I wasn’t sure where I would go, but it had to be somewhere far, far away.  I needed some me time without all the confusing connections.  I needed to be somewhere without expectations, without my guilt or emotions making my decisions for me.  I needed some freedom.  They could no longer make me stay.  Yet I was tethered by my love and inability to go against their wishes, because I wasn’t capable of causing them that sort of pain.  As a child, a minor, I felt an obligation to maintain my place and respect them as much as any rebellious teenager might respect their parents.  While I was never a regular being, restricted by typical immaturity, I did look like a child.  That would have created some difficult explanations I didn’t want to have to make to strangers.  As an adult, roles would shift.  I could take my leave without so many lies required.  I needed to start by being honest with my family, telling them how I felt.  I needed to give them the honesty they had always given me.

By the time I realized how close I had come to the house, it was too late to shake away the thoughts.  How stupid could I be?  Every image in my mind was being shared for the last fifteen minutes, at least.  Embarrassment washed over me, and I clenched my fists tightly at my sides.  He would have been listening.  He always listened.  How incredibly moronic I’d been.  Everyone in the house would know by now my plans.  What would they say?  Would they try to stop me?  Would they agree with me? 

Struggling with my emotions, I started up the steps.  Maybe he’d kept quiet, because it’s not like he enjoyed rifling around in my head, and he was very respectful about it.  If I didn’t want to talk about things, Dad would never mention them.  If I didn’t already know he could pick through my brain, I wouldn’t have been able to guess it.

Anxiously, I put my hand on the door and turned the knob.  I was about to find out just how much information I had given away, and just how many people aside from Dad knew my plans.  Way to go Renesmee, I thought to myself.  Score one for your first mature act.  Trying to avoid a counter-attack in my mind, I pushed open the door.

Tension nearly shut it back against me.  Oh, they knew, without a doubt.  The vampires present were sitting in their usual positions in the living room, trying to maintain composure.   They were too relaxed, too controlled.  Biting my lip, I surveyed the attendees, preparing myself for the onslaught of accusations and feelings of betrayal. 

Emmett sat, eyes focused on the television screen.  His left hand held the remote control, which he clicked rapidly, the channels shifting from one sporting event to another.  His right hand twitched under Rosalie’s strong grip.  Surprisingly, the sound of breaking bones didn’t echo through the silence.  He was a trooper.  He never even flinched.  She dared to glimpse in my direction, and quickly shifted her eyes when she found the answer she was seeking.  What she had heard was true.  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize I was edgy.

Grandfather and Grandmother stood at once, forcing smiles onto their quivering lips.  Neither spoke.  She opened her mouth once, to speak, but nothing would come out.  He draped his arm around her shoulder, in a gesture of compassion, understanding.  I was pretty sure Rosalie was burning a hole through their backs, looking through them to me, and I was glad their forms were blocking her line of sight.

Sighing lightly, I noticed Seth Clearwater at a table prepared, helping himself to refreshments that were meant only for him.  He was the youngest in Jacob’s pack and the friendliest.  He was Leah’s little brother, which sort of made him my brother too.  It didn’t bother him in the slightest to surround himself with stinking bloodsuckers.  We were his friends, just as much as anyone else.  He was like a little vampire mascot.  He was obviously oblivious to what had just transpired moments before my arrival.  Good, I needed some back up.  Blissful ignorance wasn’t much of a help, but it would have to do for now.  As I turned to move in his direction, I could feel eight eyes beating into my back, unable to say a single thing to me.  They didn’t have to say anything.  I could pretty easily pick up that it wasn’t going to be an easy night, but I had come, right?  That had to count for something.

Alice broke the silence first, skipping in from the back door, a strained smile plastered on her lips.

“Ness...Renesmee, you look amazing,” she said, instantly correcting herself. 

The words were upbeat and whimsical as always, but her voice was somewhat forced.  I cautiously smiled back, and she moved forward to kiss me once on each cheek.  There was no gentle hug, no excited commentary about her approval of my attire.  The greeting was very un-Alice-like.

For the first time, I looked around the room, and noticed how much effort she had put into subtly decorating for the night.  Several vases were filled with flowers in varying shades of blue, as though she knew what I would wear.  Hyacinths, Hydrangea, and Delphiniums perfumed the vicinity with their floral scent.  Veronica laced all free surfaces.  From behind her back, Alice pulled out a bracelet meant for me, made from Forget-Me-Nots.  My smile wavered as she slipped it casually over my wrist.

A warm sensation flooded my body, and I was glad he had arrived before the tears spilled over the corners of my eyes.  Jasper had a way of calming people, adjusting their emotions to be more manageable.  His gift was warm and welcomed, as he shifted the tense atmosphere in the room into something more breathable.   The stiffness was released, and while I knew it didn’t change the coming hours, it was nice to be given the chance to explain my side of things, to defend myself.  I didn’t expect anyone to turn on Dad.  I just wanted a chance to be heard through a voice I rarely used.  If that didn’t work, I wanted to be given the chance to let them see things from my perspective.  That would make things easier for them.  I would try words first, because my sight was far too persuasive.  I wanted them to accept things without having to cheat my way to my ultimate goal.

Of all my vampire family, Jasper had the easiest time dealing with my temper-tantrums.  In fact, it was a bonding experience to know that he was not the only one whose transition had been difficult.  When Mom had been turned, her first few years were supposed to be a very trying period, full of rampages and emotional outbursts.  An old soul in mortality, when she became a vampire, that old soul made the transition with her.  She was nothing like what a newborn should have been, which was incredibly difficult for Jasper to accept.   He wasn’t the baby anymore, and yet a newborn had more restraint than him.  It was a very humbling experience and exceptionally hard to bear. 

When my personality started to shine through, in less than appropriate ways, Jasper formed a bond with me, an understanding and acceptance.  He stopped feeling so inadequate and regained more of his former self-esteem.  He was needed, and his empathic gift was very useful.  Most of the time he was able to talk things through with me, listening to my concerns and calmly showing me another side, another way.   Of course, there were times when I was beyond reason and he cheated, using his power to break through my bad mood, my fit.  It pleased him to be of such a valid and necessary service.  It pleased me that he cared enough to want to help, especially when I was so often out of line.

They all played roles in my life:  Jasper my counselor, Alice my inspiration, Emmett my bodyguard, Rosalie my confidence, Grandfather and Grandmother my educators.   Each member of my vampire family held a specific and unique place in helping me reach adulthood.  The logical course forward was for me to find my place, my goals.  I couldn’t do that when I was so swept up in everything they already were to me.  I couldn’t find my way unless I stopped seeking direction from the people around me.  I couldn’t tag along anymore; I couldn’t be content with only that.  While the future was an unknown, it held too many possibilities to let them slide by because I was too scared to seek them out.

 When I felt myself getting worked up again, nerves shooting through the calm, another flood of warmth washed through me.

When he walked in, the idle chatter that passed between the guests stopped.  She walked beside him, anger flickering in her golden eyes.  Swallowing hard, I forced a smile across my lips.  They were a menacing pair, beautiful beyond belief.  Mom wore her emotion like a badge, lips lifting to snarl at me.  Dad was more cryptic.  I couldn’t tell whether he was angry at me, or whether he was about to have an emotional breakdown.  Their steps came in what looked to me like slow motion, and I contemplated backing toward the door and making a run for it.

 Just when I thought Jasper couldn’t do more than he was already doing, he came to stand beside me, gently taking my hand in his.  Alice mimicked his movement on my left side, and I wondered, with them holding my weight, how I had managed to stand on my own two feet before that.  Were they protecting me or providing me moral support?  Did they really think I would be physically attacked?  Maybe they were making sure I couldn’t escape. 

Cringing, I watched the pained look in Dad’s eyes, and realized the blow had been low.  They would never hurt me, whether I deserved it or not.  If I was going to prove to them I was ready to be on my own, standing there cowering was not the way to do it.  Flanked by two people that I loved gave me strength enough to realize I needed to solidify my wobbly knees and meet their approach. 

Taking a step forward, the hands on either side of mine released their steadying grip, and I met my parents as an equal.  Whatever they wanted to say, I was ready for the rebuttal.  However they wanted to argue their case, I would diplomatically counter with mine.  Regardless of any unforeseen emotion, I would be compassionate, yet firm.  They wouldn’t make me stay, I knew that.  I could see it in Mom’s instantaneous mood swing, the way her lips moved from a snarl to a quiver as my parents stopped to stand in front of me.  The three of us realized it wasn’t their allowance I was looking for, it was their blessing.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, Renesmee,” said Dad in a voice smooth as velvet. 

Although in literal terms it had only been seven years, this was one of my attendance conditions.  His voice never wavered, never showed any sign of hidden emotions.  Maybe he’d given up quicker than I hoped.  Maybe this evening could be one of celebration after all, a pleasant goodbye without the theatrics.  He flinched a bit, and I knew I wasn’t getting off that easily.

“Thank you Father,” I replied curtly. “It felt like it took me forever to get here.”

“Not nearly long enough,” Mom retorted. “I hope you enjoyed your day.”

She wished she could have spent it with me, knowing at that moment the consequences of my desire for solitude.  Mom had never wanted to age past eighteen.  It was bad enough she was one theoretical year older than Dad, but she never meant to go beyond that.  I was in between them, as though fate had a sense of humor. 

“It allowed for necessary reflection,” I replied cautiously, carefully choosing my words.

Just because Mom was no longer capable of beating Emmett in an arm-wrestling contest did not mean she didn’t have the power to break me in two in the blink of an eye.  Even stronger than her physical form was her advice.  Her words were always logical, sifting through confusion and pulling out the very fragments that would make me second guess my decisions.  I could not let that type of manipulation occur.  This was far too important.  No short term contentment could sway me.

“Oh?” she asked, feigning surprise. “Please tell me, if you don’t mind, what decisions you have come to in your newfound adulthood?”

Dad shifted a bit, uncomfortable about the way the conversation was going.  He had hoped we could experience some pleasantries before moving right to the point.  The presents would have to wait.  He sought my face in confirmation to what my mind was telling him, and I saw the line of his jaw flex strongly.  I imagined his teeth breaking into a million tiny pieces.   He unclenched his jaw at that.

“You know already,” I grumbled. “He didn’t let me explain myself before telling you.”

He remained silent.  In fact, everyone had grown silent.  Even Seth had stopped his chewing, standing in the kitchen with his mouth partly open.  Aware of the audience, Dad smiled lightly, trying to minimize the spectacle I was about to make of myself.  A million voices would have been raging through his head, but he hid it very well.

“Perhaps we should take this conversation to a more private venue, Renesmee,” he suggested, hand gesturing toward the front door.

“Why?”  I asked defiantly, my voice raising a decibel level. “This conversation affects everyone here.  You’ll just go off and tell them everything that happens anyway.  They might as well get a first-hand account!”

I felt the warmth again, a surge more forceful than the previous two times he initiated the flow through me.  Turning to face Jasper, I shook my head in protest.  He nodded once and the pull lifted, but I knew he wouldn’t be far in case things got out of hand, as they had a tendency to do with me.  Folding my arms across my chest, I prepared for the onslaught of arguments, for the bribes and threats.  The pleading would come last, and while I knew it would be the most difficult to pass, it would be the final stage before acceptance.  This is what I assumed would happen.

When Mom opened her mouth to speak again, Dad interrupted by taking her hand and pulling it to his lips.  She never could maintain focus when he touched her.  Their love was an endless love, stronger than any desire, any craving that existed.  There could not be one without the other, no need greater than being together.  So, they would still have each other, even if I slipped from the triangle for a while.  Maybe it wouldn’t take an argument.  Maybe a decision was already made, and they were preparing for acceptance all along, knowing it was inevitable.  It wasn’t a permanent goodbye.  It was only a short time, and they had forever.  I was foolish to worry over telling them.  It was going to be fine.  Sighing in relief, I felt the knots slowly work their way out of my stomach.

“You misunderstand,” Dad quickly countered. “You won’t have our blessing.”

My head tilted to the side a bit, confused.  Fear shifted to relief shifted to confusion.  How could I not have their blessing?  What more was there to argue?  He didn’t say don’t.  He said won’t, meaning never.  Could he not see my side?  Did he not know how incredibly important this was to everyone?

“You’re not ready,” he argued.

It was hard enough having the conversation in front of everyone, while no one bothered to throw in their two cents.  It was incredibly more difficult to have a one-sided conversation, where he was the only one speaking.  He was speaking and not listening.  What good did it do to invade my head if he wasn’t even going to really hear what I was saying, what I was feeling?

 “I was born ready,” I spat at him.

Yes, I was born with an advanced mind, fully developed, and my body had spent the last few years trying desperately to catch up.  It had caught up.  While I admitted openly that body and mind had some meshing to do, that was the whole point of this detachment.  I needed to remove myself from my surroundings so that I could be whole.  I couldn’t spend any more of my life fighting between the human side and the vampire side.  It was tearing me apart at the seams.  I had to figure out who I wanted to be, what I wanted to be.  Was it really so hard to accept?  Was it really so hard to look back and realize it wasn’t their blessing to give?  Yet, I asked for it.  I needed it to move forward with a clean conscience. 

I felt my temperature rise another degree, and was ready to raise my voice again, when he calmly repeated, “You will not have our blessing.”

I growled, and I heard Seth whimper from the kitchen, rushing toward the back door.

“That’s right!” I yelled after him. “Go run to your Jacob.  You’ll be disappointed to find out he could care less whether I stay or go!”

“Renesmee Carlie Cullen!”  Mom snapped in a completely parental tone.

“You cannot make me stay here.”

Keeping a firm grip on Mom’s hand, Dad stood his ground, countering coolly, “No one is making you stay, Renesmee.  You are an adult now.  The choice is yours.”

He pulled this same garbage on Mom when she wanted to become a vampire.  He claimed it to be a compromise, but it wasn’t.  Really, it was his way of controlling everything around him.  Feeling my body begin to shake lightly, he was hitting all the right nerves.  I wanted to show him why I had to do this.  I wanted to show him why I could not continue to exist without this chance, and I couldn’t go without their blessing.  He knew that and was using it against me. 

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

Dad flinched a bit.  Mom was looking at him now, reading his reactions from my lack of words.  She gasped, her golden eyes flitting back and forth between us.  She didn’t want to interrupt.

“You will give me your blessing!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice nearly in hysterics now.

I wasn’t prepared to be the one losing control of myself.  I wanted to handle the altercation in a dignified fashion and had been prepared to sooth and coddle my parents when they gave in to me, as they always did.  I wasn’t prepared to threaten and demand, as I supposedly had outgrown childish acts. And it wasn’t my fault that the idea had only now presented itself. 

You leave me no choice.

“Or…” I hissed. “it will be as though I never existed.”

Mom shuddered at his side; she’d heard those same daring words before.  The others began to whisper in hushed, shocked tones, contemplating my meaning.   Even though I was controlled by a pure sense of rage, I wouldn’t hurt her more than that one sentence, but my father needed to hear the rest. 

I have tried to explain to you why you need to let me leave, and you refuse to listen.  You’ve made your choice.  Now, I will make mine.  I won’t show you thoughts you can already see.  What I will tell you is that what can be given, can be taken away.  If I can put my thoughts into your head, into their heads, I can take them out too.   Don’t make me.

My father fell silent.  He would need some time to think about what I had said to him, and it was something I knew he wouldn’t be repeating anytime soon.  I had cut him to the bone.  He would need some time to weigh out the possibilities, to decide whether the threat was idle or not.  Could I really take away memories?  Could I alter someone’s thought process to that degree?  I wasn’t sure, and neither was he, but if there was a fraction of a chance, it was too much to risk.

Jasper and Alice weren’t looking at me when I strode past them toward the door; no one was.  They were all looking at Dad, and how his heart, if it could beat, would have exploded from his chest and impaled every vampire in the room.  His mouth was slack, and his mind had fallen some place beyond death, into a thick, black pit of despair.  The victory seemed shallow, but it was a victory, none the less.  They wouldn’t have a choice now.  They would give me their blessing, all of them; because being without me for a while was a far lesser pain than never knowing I existed.