𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘔𝘚𝘖𝘕 ° 𝘑𝘈𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘓𝘌 ✓

01 | FORKS |

edited: 7/9/2020

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GREEN.

That was all Rory Aden could see for miles and miles on end as she leaned her head against the car window. From the grass to the trees that were even covered in green moss, it was like entering a secret world. She had never seen the brilliant color saturating the terrain so much before in her life, the endless hue of life and nature offered her comfort from the landscape of death and tragedy she had escaped from.

The 17-year-old girl had exhausted all possible hollow attempts to occupy her mind, blasting music in her ears, reading, and sketching; which resorted her to blankly stare at the sea of trees as her mother drove them to their new home. The breathtaking views offered her a stable comfort throughout the hour and a half drive from the small Port Angeles airport, which was the nearest city to their destination of Forks, Washington.

The small town called Forks was home to a population of exactly 3,120 people and now Rory and Stella Aden. As far as the eye could tell, Forks was surrounded by miles of forests and a cover of impenetrable clouds that only perpetuated the apparent sleepiness of the town.

The further they drove into town, the more convinced the family of two were that they had made the right decision. As far as the eye could tell, like most of the state of Washington region, Forks was like an oasis in a sea of endless green; if an oasis consisted of three total intersections, two local grocery stores, and no shopping mall in a twenty mile radius. There were no towering skyscrapers or franchise stores with bright fluorescent signs. Life was profoundly ordinary and quiet.

It was perfect.

At one of the two stoplights in town, Rory watched as a group of teenagers helped an elderly woman who had dropped a paper bag of groceries. Once the people noticed the unfamiliar car, they waved to Rory and her mother welcomely before parting with smiles as the light turned green.

Everyone knew everyone, had grown up with the same people and cared for one another as a community in a way Rory had only imagined happened in books and movies and tv shows. It was a drastic change from the bright lights and fast-paced lifestyle of the busy streets of San Antonio, Texas, but it was a welcomed one too.

As far as Rory was concerned, Forks was her home for the unforeseeable future.

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"Well, this is it." Stella Aden unbuckled her seatbelt as she parked the new Range Rover—one of the few luxuries she allowed herself in the last six months—in the driveway of a modest two story home. The movers with the truck carrying the rest of their belongings and furniture would be arriving soon. The 40-year old woman whose wavy black hair had been recently streaked with grey turned her head to meet her daughter's anxious gaze. "What do you think?"

"It's great," she said optimistically.

Rory scanned the entirety of their new home, which was a lot smaller and older than their old one. The house was a soft red color that popped out especially with the million shades of green from the forest that peaked out from behind the house. A path from the front yard led to the overgrown garden in the backyard, which Rory had seen in the pictures from the realtor.

The tire swing that hung from a large oak tree brought a sudden dryness to Rory's throat when she thought of her sister who would've loved such a small detail. The teenager swallowed away the pain as she noticed a peculiar detail–the oak tree seemed to lie on both their land and their neighbor's land, which brought her attention to their neighbor. The house next to theirs was similar in design, except the wood paneling was painted white with a police chief cruiser and a rusty red pickup truck parked in the driveway.