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Rosalie was raised in Toronto, Canada, in a family that consisted of a mother, father, and two older brothers, 15 and 17 years her senior, though the eldest of the brothers would move out two years into her life. They were a loving, doting family who were very protective of Rosalie, and so she'd grow to be fairly sheltered and a bit naive, but otherwise happy little girl.[break][break]

Her family lived a modest life, squeezed into a three bedroom apartment. Both her father and brother worked to support the household, while her mother did part-time work she could do from home. They never had a whole lot of expensive belongings, their budgets were carefully balanced and much of their income went toward necessities and practical items. Anything pricey and unnecessary, was carefully saved up for.[break][break]

This was never a problem for Rosalie however, she was fine with the toys and things she had, and the love and attention her family showered on her, more than made up for it. She had a particularly close relationship with the brother that lived with them. He had assisted in her care just as much as their parents did, and throughout her life, much of the free time he had, was spent with her.[break][break]

Rosalie's brother would play his guitar for her, they'd both sing the songs together. They also took many photographs, of each other, and also going out on the town and taking shots of the urban wildlife and scenery. At home, she also enjoyed reading, and having her brother read to her. She's developed a vivid imagination and an interest in story writing that has stayed with her to present day.[break][break]

Though she might have been limited in friends and had a bit of trouble with people picking on her in school, Rosalie had always considered her family life to be perfect. She'd never expected there to be any huge secrets among them, what she saw was what she thought she had. One day however, sometime after she turned 12, her family would sit her down and a serious talk would be had.[break][break]

It turned out, whom she had grown up to believe were her parents, were really her grandparents, and that the second-eldest brother was truly her father. They'd apparently kept this to themselves, feared the impact public judgement of teen parents would have on her, and had felt this was something she should learn, when she was old enough to understand. [break][break]

Rosalie did not understand however, and the realization that her family had lied to her, her whole life, and all the questions it raised, quickly overwhelmed her. She bolted into her room, and blocked herself in the rest of the night. She'd spend the next few hours, between bouts of crying, stuffing her favored belongings into her book bag. In the middle of the night when everyone slept, she'd slip out of her room, grab a few small food items and then hurry out the door.[break][break]

She could hear her brothe- father? Her father's voice call out to her, but she'd break into a run and head straight into the elevator. The doors would close before he could catch up. Now, running away wasn't something kids did without hesitation. Many would think about it, some would, like Rosalie pack a bag, but often times, they'd back out and it'd take more time and pressure before they truly did it. Before the elevator reached the ground floor, Rosalie was already chickening out.[break][break]

In her distress, she hadn't even noticed that strange things were happening around her. Unearthly patches of digital matter appeared in the walls, and her phone lit up, flashing wildly. Then it suddenly felt like she was getting sucked into it, and everything went black. When the elevator finally stopped and the doors slid open, the elevator interior had returned to normal, but Rosalie was no longer inside.