PREFACE
I'd never given much thought to how I would die — though I'd had reason
enough in the last few months — but even if I had, I would not have
imagined it like this.
I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of
the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me.
Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I
loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.
I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death now.
But, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision.
When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's
not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.
The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me.

1. FIRST SIGHT
My mother 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 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 horror. I detested Forks.
I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the
vigorous, sprawling city.