The Dark Side of the Moon

(Anabelle's Point of View)

Whenever we have to move to a new town the experience is always similar. It is a smooth transition for us, and acquiring a new estate is never an issue due to my family's vast fortune, having been gathered over hundreds of years. Fitting in with the new locals however, well, the truth is, we never quite do.

It was our first day in Forks, Washington. My wet, sunless, and incredibly green new surroundings exuded a sense of familiarity, and it amused me. It was always the same. I stepped out my window, floating lightly down to the mud-covered ground below. My face instinctively turned upward letting the rain beat steady against my face, softer then feathers on my skin. I heard my brother Avis before I smelled him. The rain was, however slightly, weakening my senses.

I immediately whipped my body around when I heard him make a sudden movement. He had propelled himself across the lawn, sliding towards me on his stomach through the mud. I did not bother moving, and I giggled as I let him tackle me across the slippery ground. It was not long until an all-out mud war had broken out. Avis's twin, Malcolm, was quick to join in, never one to be left out of the fun.

My last brother, Reed, stared out at us, shaking his head at our childish game but laughing despite himself. He was accompanied by our father, who watched us proudly through wise eyes. I stopped, and took a brief moment to pause and glance at the members of my family. Malcolm was the older twin by five minutes, but Avis and him were completely identical. They were both tall, extending to about 6'5'', but their lofty frames were easily compensated for by the bands of muscle that bulged and stretched around them. Their perfectly messy light brown hair added to their inhumanly beautiful faces, and their matching sets of eyes, framed by dark lashes, glowed a warm liquid gold.

Reed was just as jaw-dropping as his brothers, but in a different way. He was shorter, but still reached six feet. He had the same bulky muscle, but his were more human. They were not as eerily defined, less like they had been carved in marble. His hair shined a darker brown and hung longer and shaggier, coming to a rest just above his bright hazel eyes.

And then there was Cyrus, our adoptive father. Still breathtakingly attractive, he looked different then the rest of us. My siblings and I all possessed smooth olive skin, even Avis and Malcolm, though their's glowed under an unusual pallor. Cyrus's skin had the same smooth pastiness; however, his was white as snow. He had the same colored eyes as the twins as well, but his rested under golden lashes and light curly locks. In my opinion, he was the most remarkable man, emotionally, physically, and mentally, that one would ever meet. Though the term "man" is used loosely. He had been a wonderful father, supporting all of us, his "children". And what a strange lot we were! Just try to picture this. A vampire father protectively leading two other identical vampires, vegetarians in their own right. Plus, a gifted shape-shifter who was unique and powerful in human or animal form, and one incredibly different girl, who's origin would not, could not, be believed. Not even if one was presented with indisputable evidence.

I smiled as my eyes soaked in the view of my family. Nonetheless, I had looked away for half a second too long, and was snapped out of my reverie by the slap of a large mud ball against my face. "What's up sis," shouted Avis, "Thinking of how exciting tomorrow will be?" He was laughing, and I rolled my eyes at him. Forks was anything but exciting. If only I'd known.