My mom drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down.It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix,
the sky a perfect,cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt-sleeveless,white eyelet lace;I was
wearing it as a farewell gesture.My carry-on item was a parka.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State,a small town named Forks exists under a near-
constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the
United States of America.It was from this town and its its gloomy,omnipresent shade that my mother
escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to
spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down;these
past three summers,my dad,Charlie,vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.
It was to Forks that I now exiled myself-an action that I took with great honor. I detested Forks.
I loved Phoenix.I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous,sprawling city.
"Bella,"my mom said to me-the last of a thousands times-before I got on the plane."You don't have to
do this."My mom looks like me,except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt aspasm of panic as I
stared at her wide,children eyes. How could I leave my loving,erratic,harebrained mother to fend for
herself? Of course she had Phil now,so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the
refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost,but still..."I want to go,"I
lied. I'd always been a bad liar , but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sound
almost convincing now.
"Tell Charlie I said hi.""I will.""I'll see you soon," she insisted."You can come home whenever you
want-I'll come right back as soon as you need me." But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind
the promise.