The Peace Keeper

It was around eleven at night when Quil and Embry left my house. They claimed they had to get home before their parents noticed how late it was. I bid them farewell, and Jake just "hn-ed" as a goodbye. After the two left, Jake and I continued to watch another half hour of TV.

As the show we had been watching ended, I pipped up, "Are you tired at all?"

With a shrug, Jake answered, "Eh, not really. Are you?"

I shook my head. It was true, I was completely awake. A moment of silence passed before I continued, "You know..." I glanced around the still unfamilar room, "I haven't really checked out this place throughly, yet. Wanna explore with me?"

An interested expression crossed his face as he nodded.

Grinning, I grabbed his hand, "Alright, let's start in the sitting room. That was the picture that I liked the most from the website..."

The first floor of the house had five rooms. When you first came in the door, you would see the front parlor, decorated with simple wall decorations and an oak chest. Going to the left, you're in the living room, which right now only had a fireplace, a couch, love seat, recliner, and television. This was probably the most modern room. From the living room, you can get to the dining room. It only had a very large table and chairs, all neatly set in two rows. From both of these rooms, you can get to the farthest room, the kitchen. Tile floor, sink, fridge, oven, etc. it was a pretty typical kitchen. But, it was only from the dining room, could you get to the sitting room.

So, I dragged Jake through the house, all the way to the other side, standing in the large, open doorway of the sitting room. From the doorway, you would see a large bookshelf directly across the room. It had been previously stocked with old, leather bound books, as well as new ones (courteously of the Cullens). I awkwardly pranced over to the shelf, and plucked up a book. It was one that I had not seen before, so I assumed it was probably from Edward and his family.

"'1000 Most Challenging Words,' By Norman W. Schur..." I read aloud from the cover. It peaked my interest, so I flipped open to a random page. "Pogonology." Was the definition that caught my eye.

While curiously examining the rest of the antique room, Jacob glanced over at me with a confused gaze, "The study of... Pogo Sticks?"

I shrugged, and began reading again. "'Pogonology: n. Pogonology has nothing whatever to do with the art of using a pogo stick, a long upright stick with a crossbar on a strong spring.'" I giggled at the author's bluntness, "No, I guess not, Jake."

He cutely pouted, "Then what does it mean?"

Skimming the rest of the page, I answered, "It's the study of beards."

"Beards? Like... Facial hair?"

Snapping the book shut and returning it to it's home, I nodded blankly.

"Weird." And he continued to study the room.

I, too, gazed about my barrings. The sitting room had come with a basic decor, left by the previous owners. Esme, Alice, and Rosalie had (what they called) "spruced up" the room up a bit. There was an old and faded tapestry falling down the bare wall to my left. Perpendicular to that wall were a scattered bout of chairs and uncomfortable looking couches. Opposite, there were a few tables and a desk, all modern, but looking baroque. Although, most of the room was filled with stacks and shelves of... Well, books.

Jacob picked up a few older looking copies, "'The Rise and Fall of King Julius III,' 'Advanced Astrology,' 'Normal Breathing Habits for Labored Cats?'" He looked to me, flabbergasted, "Where'd you get these?"

"I honestly have no idea... Most of them came with the house. You'll probably be able to tell which one's are actually mine."

He picked up another, book. This one was colored, and had a new shiny cardboard cover, "'Italy's Ghostly Population.'"

I grinned, "One of my favorites."

"Have you been to Italy, then?" He sat on one of the chairs, ushering me to sit with him. Instead of plopping down on a seat of my own, I plopped down on his lap.

Jake didn't seem to mind.

I nodded in response to his question, "Loads of times. My family and I used to go every summer to visit Victor and I's Godparents." I was just about to elaborate a bit more, but something caught my eye...

Another presence in the room, one that I could tell was otherworldly. Between the desk and a corner stood a stark white figure. I could only really make out the face: the thing was probably a female... and boy, did she look angry. It gave off a familiar sense of loathing that most ghosts directed towards me when I trodded on their territory.

I just smirked back confidently, knowing that showing weakness was not going to help. The top corner of the high-backed chair was cutting off some of her figure, so I leaned up, over Jacob's shoulder to get a better look. Jacob, of course, thought I was just trying to cuddle, and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist while reading the book around my shoulder.

If anything, my arrogant expression got the specter even more enraged. Before I knew it, the figure had completely disappeared. Not even a second later, a loud and high-pitched crash was sounded from our right. Jacob immediately bolted from the chair, pulling me up with him, holding me for a second before placing my feet down on the ground again.

"What was that?" He questioned frantically, dark eyes darting around the room.

I gazed to where the crash had came from, finding a pile of decorative glass shards scattered on the ground beneath a table.

"Looks like a vase broke," I told him, "No big deal." Trying to play it off, as not to worry him.

He was silent for a minute while I hopped over to the glass pile and started picking up the larger pieces. "But..." Jake seemed baffled, "What made it fall?"

I shrugged, "This is an old table. It probably just wobbled a bit, and the vase fell." Cradling the glass, I stood from where I had been kneeling, and limped over to the kitchen to throw them out.

Jake followed, "That vase was on the middle of the table, Em. If the table had shaken enough for it to fall, we would have heard it..." I tossed the glass in the trash, and grabbed a small dust pan from a cabinet. "It's like it jumped or something..."

I giggled, "Vases don't jump! But it's no big deal, anyway."

He eyed me suspiciously, "You seem awful at ease with this, Emma..."

I nodded with a purpose, trying to put him at ease, "And you seem awful concerned with it! But it's no big deal, okay?"

He pursed his lips, "You're not telling me something."

"What do you mean?"

Jake took a few large strides across the room, successfully trapping me in a corner. He dipped his head down, shaggy locks falling into his eyes somewhat, so his face was level with my own. I stared back into his eyes. "I can tell," He explained, "You're not telling me something."

"There's lots of things I don't tell you--"

I was cut off by another loud crash. This time, we bolted around to see the shattered remains of a kitchen plate on the floor. The cabinet where the plates were stored in was wide open, where previously, it had been shut.

"That damn bitch." I muttered, "Broke my vase, now my kitchenware!"

"Who are you talking about?"

Speak of the devil, the ghost girl was here again, now standing in the middle of the kitchen a few feet from Jake and myself.