Untitled - Continuation of "Rosalie's News" from Edward's Perspective

What I’ve wrote is a continuation from Stephenie Meyers own creation of Edwards perspective. “Rosalie’s News.” please don’t judge me too harshly; I don’t claim to be even on the same level as Stephenie Meyer. Please leave a comment of any constructive criticism or thoughts. Thanks.


I shut the phone.

Love, life, existence over.

I had nothing left to hold, to love, to feel, to breathe, to be…

I barely realized that the phone was crushed in my hand that the snarl of fury, of pain had erupted from me.

I felt numb, there was nothing left, the pain was sickening, worse then my rebirth, worse then the look of intense pain on Bella’s face when I told her that I didn’t want her—that I didn’t love her. I thought there was nothing worse then that —but I was terribly mistaken.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, my actions were running away before I could catch up with my thoughts, it didn’t matter. I erupted from the small dwelling, flying past the four stories of families without notice. —Until I shattered through the front door, the old wood cracking and splitting unable to resist my granite bodies force. Then the blinding sun mixed with the debris and dust of the air swirled around me.

I was barely aware of the people around me, obviously surprised at my sudden dramatic appearance, and how my skin reflected the sun and threw rainbows in their direction, I took in some of there faces their expressions mystified squinting at me because of the bright light. Horrified.

I barely had time to register my surroundings before I was running, running so hard, trying to run from the pain from the guilt from the complete anguish.

I saw her. Her eyes filled with tears, her eyelashes danced with tiny diamonds that clung to them. They spilled over her pale cheeks as she tried to comprehend what I said to her.

“Goodbye, Bella.”

“Wait!” she barely manages to get out, reaching for me helplessly.

God how I wanted to reach for her and tell her I’m so sorry, hating that I caused her pain.

I thought she would forget me. Bella…threw herself off a cliff I cringed from the words, hating myself.

I was vaguely aware that I arrived— From San Antonio to Houston, — in record time. I slowly entered the International Airport, the suns beams didn’t bounce off of me, I turned back looking at the sky realizing it was twilight…

Bella’s warm hands using all their force, pressed against the skin of my face pulled me out of my reverie and brought back my lost thoughts.

Her small delicate hands held my face close, her deep brown eyes burning with passion, boring into mine.

“You must never, never, never think of anything like that again! No matter what might ever happen to me, you are not allowed to hurt yourself!”

Her voice was so clear; I could even taste her scent on the back of my tongue. And tried desperately to keep her in my arms before the warmth left my face, her eyes blur and her voice melt back into the buzz of the crowded airport.

I tried frantically to remember her warmth, her scent, her eyes, the curve of her lips, the brush of her hair, the colour of her skin. My mind came up blank and all I could feel was the mounting pain, I was no longer numb.

I didn’t heed my own subconscious trying to remind me of Bella’s plead.

I felt my pockets; the dry material was filthy, and almost crumbled in my grasp. But I came up with what I was looking for and grasped my wallet witch held my passport.

Wow that guy smells disgusting. Hasn’t he heard of soap or a magical thing called a shower. Jeeze its common courtesy.

I locked eyes with a girl, about 16.

Her thoughts revolted, and she turned away quickly, her mind fluttering in a panic.

A scowl twisted my face as I stealthily walked up to the line leading to the front counter. I didn’t miss the glances that people gave me. Seeing myself reflected in all their anxious thoughts. I looked like a vampire. The rings around my eyes were never this black, that they almost matched the depth of the coal in my eyes that showed my thirst. My face was unrecognizable. I didn’t care, even as they all cringed away from me.

All thoughts seemed to be centered on me, as I finally approached the front counter. The middle-aged women’s bored plain eyes glanced at me as I approached her counter. They widened significantly as they took in my demeanor, and appearance.

“Hi there welcome to George Bush Intercontinental Airport.”

My scowled deepened as I dropped my visa and passport and sternly growled “Two to Rome, first-class.”

Her thick eyebrows rose.

Excuse me! No need for the attitude.

I leaned close to her my black eyes frightening her internally.

“No, there’s definitely a need for the attitude.”

Her eyes widened even more, but I blocked out the outrage of inane chatter. And concentrated on anything but the throbbing in my insides, the most real pain I’ve ever experienced.

The women’s eyes shrunk and she glared at me through the small openings her eyelids allowed.

“Enjoy your flight.” She said icily

I warped my scowl up into a twisted smile (that frightened her more then the darkness of my eyes.) “Thank you.” I said curtly.

I barely remembered passing through security, or waiting to board.

I entered the plane in the line of humans; the buzzing around me never annoyed me so much. The plane took off.

“Can I get you anything?” asked a flight attendant through her smile.

Her smile quivered as I met her bright earnest gaze.

“No nothing at all, and please don’t ask me again.” I answered her briskly.

Whoa, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!

“Of course” she answered timidly

I rolled my eyes. And closed them pinching the bridge of my nose, and contemplated the ways to spend the endless time until I reached my goal that lay within Volterra.

I now could perceive why humans thought flying a very ghastly experience. I settled in my seat and tried to remember…

Nothing. I could barely make out her face and the pain doubled as the realization hit me.

I concentrated on anything else feeling my control waver, and my muscles coil; I’d never be able to wait out a minute let alone an hour.

I contemplated the Volturi, my body relaxed immediately and I took comfort from knowing that the pain would soon be gone. And maybe…

No.

I couldn’t think about that, I mustn’t give myself the most improbable hope, I so much cleaved to. —that maybe I’d see her again.

No.

I made my wandering mind focus even as the pain seared uncomfortably in my throat.

I planned my strategies, thought of different ways to provoke the Volturi. Our loyal family. The plan was so they would give no mercy and kill me, simple enough. They were friends of Carlisle, and I didn’t want to bring him any harm. The Volturi had special talents, I remember Carlisle telling me the stories —there was a new pain, over the already existing pain; the pain of hurting my family.

What would Esme do? What would they say? My mind shied away from the thoughts that erupted from me, the pain I would inevitably cause them. They must understand! I thought of Alice, she may already have told them all, would they try to stop me? My head spun at the realization that they most definitely would. I can’t waste any time.

I have to prepare for every improbable circumstance. I would ask them. The Voturi may simply take pity on me, and consent and take my anguish away. But what if they refuse? They might not do it out of loyalty to Carlisle. My stomach clenched.

Damn Carlisle then. I would have to do whatever necessary. I’ll trash the town and bring the beams of the city down, and expose myself; I’ll go through the city and kill whoever in my sight …

My mind suddenly conjured up Carlisle face, and knew immediately that I could never take the life of an innocent. Just out of loyalty to my father, if nothing else.

“You…don’t…want me?” Bella said in monotone.

“No” I answered

“No!” I said the pained quenched in my throat, as I involuntarily jumped from my seat.

I glanced over into the eyes of the few startled passengers.

I slowly settled back in my seat and buried my head in my hands, resting it on my knees and focused on my breathing. “I’m sorry Bella.” I whispered.

We finally landed in Rome and I took the next flight out to Florence. The sun was just rising.

My goal was just barely in my grasp.

Then I reached Florence.

The sun barely had a chance to summon rainbows off my skin. As I ran through the glass door of the airport, and bolted towards Volterra. Just outside the city I stole a slow car, the only advantage of having tinted windows. I let my actions fly ahead of my thoughts. And finally reached the heart of the city.

~Nicki~

Remains by Bleeding Statue

Remains
By Bleeding_Statue

I'm stupid. And even knowing that, as mentally aware of my stupidity as I am, I'm still following her home. Still slipping into her room at night. Still humming her lullaby in her ear when she got restless. Still loving her.
I don't know why I still hung around. My family had moved to Maine, and everyone thought I had gone with them. Did I really love her that much? That must be the case, because she was alright without me, she had fallen in love, she didn't need me.
Maybe if I'd come sooner. . . but it was too late for what-ifs. My punishment for not making it in time---No. My punishment for coveting, loving, wanting, craving with a need that was stronger than any blood lust he'd ever felt. . . I now understood the punishment, (understood, not accept) they'd given me a taste of love, that powerful all consuming love that kills everything in it's path, that love that had left me weak and sobbing, and then ripped it away, which had ended in physical pain. Always pain. Born by pain, love by pain, die by pain. The pain of knowing where she was driving, not to my house, but his: Jacob Black.
I could still remember Jacob's expression when he had found out. He'd asked me about it later, unable to understand why I had given her up, and for a minute, he forgot what he was talking to.
And I think that's why Jacob chooses to ignore my sent on her from time to time.
Now I understood why tragedy after tragedy kept happening to me and Bella. We weren't meant for each other. Even though I loved her with all my heart, maybe that wasn't enough. It was fate she and Jacob ended up. He followed her to prom, he stayed with her when I didn't, he got her to fall in love with him. I used to think Bella was my soul mate, but maybe it was meant to be. Maybe she was supposed to have lost her memory, maybe vampires weren't supposed to fall in love.
I've been following her truck for some time now, but Bella has just crossed the line into La Push, so now I have to sit and wait (and trust that dog with the heart of the girl I will forever love), because that's one thing Jacob can not ignore.
***************************************************
It's almost midnight when I hear the roar of Bella's truck clank it's way out of La Push. I pause my pacing and lift my head to watch as it idles by me, then I catch sight of Bella through the driver's side window. I froze as I noticed for the first time the salty track of tears on her face.
My first instinct is hard to fight down but I controlled my need to launch myself at her and cradle her in my arms, like I used to, before she forgot. When it was okay. I suppose this is what I got for trusting her heart to another.
Then I remembered something I had pulled out of Jacobs mind a while ago.
He knew it would happen someday, but he stubbornly sticked to his motto: ''If I can't see it, it can't see me.''
Jacob had imprinted. Sad but true, a shy fourteen year old from the reservation had come with her friends to hang out with the 'hunky' tribe boys, attracted to their 'wildness'. Jacob had called Bella over today to tell her.
And now she was driving home alone, wondering if she'd ever find someone to replace him, but not wanting to replace him because she loved him and wanted to be kept company by his memories, but memories don't talk with you, or hold your hand when your sad, or kiss you when you feel alone and ugly and foolish.
I knew how she felt. And I could tell her that the pain would probably never go away, but that was life, and that was the price she would pay for loving and living. That pain I knew, and I still lived with, today, right now, and it flared as I remembered Carlisle words, sounding hard and cold, even in his fatherly sympathetic tone. '' She has amnesia, and I don't think her memory will come back.'' His sad, painful expression bore into mine. ''What will you do, Edward?'' And I didn't know. I just stared at him and backed up, my back hitting the wall as I backed away from him, from this horrible reality, and slid down to the floor. My head in my hands, I'd made the decision to let her go.
If I left now, she would never remember, she wouldn't feel the pain of my departure, like she had before, and if I left soon enough, she wouldn't have a chance to fall in love with me again, and I wouldn't have a chance to change my mind. But I hadn't left soon enough, and ended up staying. How weak and pathetic I was.
She ran right past a sleeping Charlie, straight up to her room, and I shadowed her every move. Like a ghost, an imaginary thing, a monster that belonged in shadow. It broke my heart to see her crying, crying for a loss I knew, oh too well, but there was nothing I could do about it.
Was there?
Well, of course not, I mean, she didn't remember me, she had no idea who I was, or what. She would be shocked and appalled if I (a vampire) slipped into her room at this hour. Or at all.
I mean, of course she was the same Bella, so she might be able to accept me again, or maybe she had spent too much time with werewolfs, listening to the tales, the hatred, and now wouldn't be able to accept who and what I was.
That had to be the case, I thought with a grimace. She would have such a grotesque picture of vampires painted in her head, that she would never be able to accept this, not now.
Bella sat up in bed, wiping her eyes, sniffling, whimpering, killing me with those glassy , chocolate eyes. And for a minute, I could have sworn she was looking right in my eyes. She looked down abruptly, as if embarrassed. The move was so much like when we had first met, I couldn't help but smile. Then she did something that took me completely off guard.
She started humming her lullaby. She was quiet, but I could here it perfectly from my perch on the tree outside her window. I couldn't grasp it. How could she know that song? She had learned it before she lost her memory. . . So it didn't make sense. I had been very specific when removing myself from her existence, all her belongings that I had given her or would remind her of me were carefully tucked away in my room, under our bed. I hadn't forgotten anything, had I? I had taken the CD, right? Yes, I'm listened to it almost every time she was in La Push for a long period of time. (It helped me forget where she was, and who she was kissing.) So she shouldn't know this song.
Perhaps this was some sort of sign from God, I thought idly, almost kidding, but liking the sound of it more and more as I continued to think, what if God actually wanted us to be together, that he appreciated our love that was more than love, and wanted it to continue. Earlier, I had believed fate had driven us apart, but now, was it possible we really were fated together. . .
It was a hopeful thought, and it excited me, making my smile widen. Hope. Believe. The thought made me brave, made me hope, made me believe, made me love. Brave enough, perhaps, to slip into her window, tonight.

Authors Note: In case you didn't get what happened here, Bella got in a car wreck and lost her memory, Edward decided to leave (but didn't really) and Bella started going out with Jacob. Then Jacob imprinted and blah blah blah. You got that part. I'm planning on making a sequel, as well, when Edward attempts to go out with a girl who is convinced vampires are evil. Eeeeeeeee!!!!! R&R!!!!!!!

Edward and the Traffic Violation by M*star

Title: Edward and the Traffic Violation

Author: M*star

Chapter: Prologue

Summary: Edward gets caught speeding by those new-fangled radar guns and loses his license! Whatever will he do?

Edward and the Traffic Violation

A Story by M*star

Prologue

Edward was late. Considering his driving habits and track record of punctuality, Bella was getting worried. Alice had dragged her off shopping that day, and when they returned to the Cullen abode (where Charlie had agreed to let her spend the night, as he was going to away on a fishing trip for the weekend), Edward had apparently stepped out to get something.

“Where’s Edward?” Bella asked Emmett as he sat down next to her.

“No clue,” he replied. “Rosalie and I were… preoccupied when he left.”

“TMI,” she informed him as she rolled her eyes. At that moment, the phone rang.

“Hello?” they heard from the kitchen, where Esme had picked up the receiver. There was a short moment of silence as whoever was calling spoke, and then, “No! Edward, you didn’t!” More silence. “You know that you’ve just made your life quite difficult.” A short pause. “Well, I’ll send Carlisle over right away. Should Bella go with him?” … “And whose fault is that?” … “Sure, whatever. Take care, dear.”

The group of vampires (and Bella) in the living room looked at Esme curiously as she entered the room. “What has our son gotten himself into?” Carlisle asked from his armchair in the corner, where he had been reading the newspaper.

Esme sighed and answered, “Edward is in jail.”

“What?” the rest exclaimed in unison.

“He was caught speeding,” she explained to her baffled family.

“How?” Emmett asked in disbelief. “Can’t he detect the police?”

“Yeah, and how come you didn’t See this, Alice?” Rosalie added.

“Like I spend all my time looking into my brother’s future,” Alice scoffed. “I have more important things to do. Like shopping.”

“Esme,” came Bella’s soft voice, “what exactly happened?”

Esme smiled at her would-be adopted daughter and replied, “It appears that Forks has installed some radar guns throughout town. You know, those things that can detect how fast something is going. Well when the police got a report from the computer that recorded the information, they were so alarmed by the speed that immediately looked up the license plate and went out to find and arrest Edward.” She turned to her husband and continued, “Edward used his one phone call and asked for someone to come bail him out.”

“I take it that ‘someone’ means me?” Carlisle asked as he rose from his seat.

“If you’d like to be.”

Carlisle looked as if he was going to leave, but before he left the room, he stopped and returned to his chair. “Actually,” he said, “I think I’m going to left him spend the night there.”

“What?!” Bella shouted, alarmed.

Carlisle smiled as he picked up his paper to continue reading and replied, “Edward has lived a long life and has never been to jail. I would hate to deny him the opportunity, which he may never have again in a long while. I think he could use the learning opportunity.” He winked at Bella and the rest of his family from behind his paper, and then resumed his perusal of it.

(\/)

(O.o)

(><)

/_I_\

How could they do this to me!, Edward thought angrily. I called almost eight hours ago, and they’ve yet to come and bail me out! He was not very happy about having to spend the night in jail. It was one in the morning and he was bored out of his mind and pissed off. Since sleeping was hardly an option, all he could really do was pace the short length of his cell and think angry thoughts.

He was still doing this (there was a vaguely noticeable indent in the floor) at ten AM the next day. “Hello, Edward,” came a sickeningly familiar voice, stirring Edward from his thoughts.

“Good morning, Chief Swan,” he greeted his girlfriend’s father warily. “I thought you were going to be away for the weekend.”

“I delayed my departure just for you,” he said with a wry smile. “So, you were caught speeding.”

“I guess you could say that,” Edward replied grimly.

“And at such a speed as to warrant your arrest and the confiscation of your license.”

“Yes, Sir. Unfortunately.”

“‘Unfortunately’ that you were speeding,” he asked, standing close to the cell bars, “or that you got caught?”

“Um…” Edward started, unsure of how to respond.

Luckily, he didn’t have to, as another police officer entered the cell block saying, “Chief Swan, Cullen’s been bailed out.”

“Finally!” Edward couldn’t help but exclaim.

“We’re not finished with this conversation,” Charlie told him sharply, “and we’ll continue it with whichever parent came to bail you out.”

They were both startled to find that it was neither of the Cullen parental units waiting for Edward, but Bella instead.

“Hey, Dad,” Bella said reluctantly, clearly dreading the inevitable talk with her father.

“Bella, what are you doing here?” Edward asked, still rather stunned to see her.

“Yes, what are you doing here?” said her father.

“Well,” she replied, “Carlisle thought it would be, um… a ‘learning opportunity’ for Edward to spend the night in jail. But as he had to go to work this morning, I volunteered to come bail him out. Uh, Carlisle gave me the money.”

Charlie shook his head and informed Edward, “It’s nice to know Carlisle punishes you kids, but he had better be planning something more than just a night in jail.”

“Oh, I bet he is,” Edward answered dejectedly.

“Now before I let you go,” Charlie continued, “please enlighten me as to why you had to be driving so damn fast, because right now, I’m seriously considering never letting Bella into a car with you at the wheel ever again.”

“Sorry about that,” Edward said with a sigh. “It was, um… an emergency.”

“Right,” said Charlie, who clearly didn’t believe him. “Well tell Carlisle that he can expect a visit from me later. Also, you should watch the mail for a letter about your trial, where you’ll find out if you’ll ever see your license again.”

“And my car?” the vampire asked hopefully.

“It’s impounded, a matter that I will discuss with Carlisle.” Turning to his daughter, he continued, “I take it that you’re driving Edward home. Well when I get back from my trip, we’ll also continue this conversation. Got that?’

“Yes, Sir,” Bella replied, not looking forward to Charlie’s return home.

Inside Bella’s truck, on the way to the Cullen abode, Edward was clearly sulking. “So it looks like I’ll be your escort, for a change,” she said lightly, trying to cheer her boyfriend up. Unfortunately, it appeared to have the opposite effect.

“It’s like moving in slow motion…” she heard him mutter vaguely.

Bella sighed. She had the distinct feeling that it was going to be a long weekend.

AN- So how was that for an intro? I always wondered what would happen if Edward got caught by one of those radar guns the police set up on roads that people are always speeding on. The next chapter will be much longer, as this one was just the prologue.

In the next episode of “Edward and the Traffic Violation”:

-Edward is chastised!

-Why can’t Emmett stop laughing?

-How will Carlisle punish Edward?

-And most importantly, what will become of Edward’s CAR?!

Forgive Me. Forget Me. by Junaberry

Forgive Me. Forget Me.

By Junaberry

When I was in my late adolescence, maybe 16 or 17, my mother took me to confession. She said to me in her breathy, angelic voice, “Edward, confess your sins in the house of God for when in his home, all will be forgiven.”

I listened to her, wide eyed and hopeful. I was prepared to deliver the ultimate speech, running through all my wrongdoings. When I entered the small chamber where a thin panel of wood separated the Father and I, a sense of fear struck me. This man would hate me and curse me for all I had done wrong, of this I was sure.

“Father, forgive me for I have sinned. It has been 6 months since my last confession,” whispered a younger me through the opening, hoarsely.

“My child, continue,” said the priest calmly as if this happened daily which it probably did. I had done nothing out of the ordinary just yet.

I could smell him through the window; he smelled of incense and cedar wood. Like my father. Like my distraught younger years.

I couldn’t continue; I clasped and unclasped my hands and I opened my mouth only to have air come out of me and finally, when the priest made a comment of the silence, the tears I had been holding in for too long trickled down my cheek and splattered onto the wooden floor. The priest said nothing more; he waited. Although he meant well, it was almost like he was condemning me for soiling the house of God.

“I am sorry, father.” After some time, I spoke in throaty words.

“My son, there is no need to apologize.”

I took one more peer through the window and dashed out to take my mother’s hand. She looked at me and stroked my cheek fondly, “My dearest child.”

I brought her hand into mine and we walked back to the house. All the while, my father was dead across town from the Spanish Influenza.

The next day, a telegram came from the hospital informing us of his death. I held my mother to my chest while she wept and wept with heaving sobs. The hate for my father was always strong through my childhood; he had ignored me and belted my mother on several occasions so it was delicately astonishing to see my dear mother mourning the death of her husband so intensely. And then, as my mother reached up to my cheek and kissed my forehead, it occurred to me that even through all the obstacles of life, love, no matter how small or battered, perseveres.

Death is the cease of existence. You simply dissipate forever; never to love or be loved again, never to remember, never to feel. The day my father died, my mother died with him.

*

Late last year, Isabella Marie Swan was diagnosed with severe breast cancer. She was 77 and frail to begin with. At the hospital, each and every day, I was forced to tell the nurses I was her grandson. In her room, I couldn’t hold her and kiss her as we both wished; I had to stroke her hand and kiss her forehead as was expected of a son. The months that led to her death were torture. Like the months so many years ago when I strayed far from my beloved to long for her lingering touch each day.

In the winter of 2070, on a bleak and rainy day, she touched my hand and coughed violently. I fought my deepest urges to change her, then and there but when she spoke, I knew that I couldn’t.

“Edward.” Her voice was just as beautiful as the day we met. “I’m old now. I’m going to die soon.”

“I know, Bella. But don’t speak so morbidly. You still have time left.”

She said to me, “There is no time left. You have made me so happy but now you need to forget me. You need to forget my name; you need to forget the last 64 years.”

“I can’t do that, sweetheart.” Every word she spoke was like a needle to my heart.

She wanted me to forget her; she said this on her 82nd birthday, solemnly and honest.

“You can and you will, Edward. I don’t want to be the cause for your eternal misery.”

Her eye lids were half closed and drooping lower and lower but her grip on my hand remained as strong as ever; like my love for her. Undying, unfaltering.

“You won’t be, Bella. You have made my life worth it. You have made me happy.”

Her cheeks glistened with salty tears and I used my free hand to scoop one onto a fingertip.

“Do you remember all those years ago, when I was with Carlisle? We were in the old house and I was playing the piano for you, you started to cry. I took one of your tears and swallowed it, darling, because I wanted to stop your pain.”

I bent my head to my finger and licked up the tear quickly. She was smiling but her eyes were now closed. Her face, peaceful and serene, the only way I wanted to see her.

“You have stopped my pain and now I have to stop yours. Just forget me. You never met me, we never spoke, we never loved.”

I wouldn’t have cried even if I could; I refused to miss any last second of Isabella’s life. The tears I would have shed would be of waste. They would hinder my watching.

“We loved, Bella. Don’t make me forget that love.”

“You won’t forget it. You’ll forget me.”

*

Two days later, Jacob Black was reading Isabella’s eulogy in her father’s back yard. I forbade myself to go to the funeral; the questions that would be raised would be hard to step around. Isabella never had children, she never married and as far as anyone knew, her high school sweetheart, Edward Cullen, died 15 years ago from a boating accident in Bermuda. So while Bella’s closest friends and relatives crowded in the small, grassed area, I wallowed in the woods, mourning the lost of my one love. I clutched my heart desperately, trying to pull my heart out, to stop the stabbing pains but I couldn’t. When I should have been reading Isabella’s last prayers, I was cursing Jacob for loving her. When I should have been grasping my last opportunity to look at her face, I was tearing out a tree from the ground in a fit of despair. I was angry; angrier than I had been in decades. And the anger was directed at Bella. That fact was the worst thing.

With the passing of Isabella, I had officially lost everything I held dear. The old ways I treasured were gone, never to be found again, certainly. The people I couldn’t bear to live without had moved on, some to a higher place. Fear encircled my heart and this fear could not be left behind. I had no one to run to and no one to talk to, dissolve into a puddle of misery in front of. It terrified me that no matter how hard I looked, I would never be able to find my past again.

50 years ago, I lost my family, piece by piece. It began mysteriously and like all things in my life, it began with Bella. My sister, Rosalie, was murdered by Jacob’s pack of wolves. She died with kindness in her heart; she died with the spirit that we treasured from her. That seemed to cause more pain than anything, knowing that she lost her life for something she loved. We were all incredibly distraught, more so than I would have predicted of a family of vampires. It was like time stopped for her and time stopped for us. So when it began again, drastic measures were taken to make up for the stand still. Emmett would function no longer. Each day was a thousand times worse than the period in which I left Bella. Soon, the tight coil we had strung through the years unraveled more and more with each day.

Jasper soon left Alice. It was a day unlike any other; unexpected. We do not know and never will know for sure what Jasper’s reasons were but Alice knows. But what Alice knows, often, she will not give. One could predict that she would sag into complete desolation but she did not. Carlisle liked to call it a stage of denial. But all through this time, our parents stayed as stable as ever. They gave us all a loving home and hand, and refused to give in to depression. It was not worth it to them, making more sadness out of sadness. It was ridiculous to conceive such a thought, in fact. It was this stability that held Carlisle together when I told him that I wished to make a life away from them with Bella.

“Of course,” he said.

This nature is what brought the Cullens and Hales through. It was what made us a family.

So many years later, I have been left desolate with no one to love or be loved by. I would gladly sacrifice myself for those I love but without the inner call to bring Bella to the surface, I could not do as she had begged me to do for so long.

If only I had the heart to appease her judgments, but I do not. Like all those years ago when I urged Rosalie into the danger that I knew awaited her, I hadn’t the heart to call her back. The downfall of my life, it began with Bella and now it ends with her as well.

*

The morning of Rosalie’s death was a morose one. Carlisle had brought Esme to Chicago for a doctors’ conference for the weekend. Our friends in Alaska had called us down to visit them but only Alice and Jasper had decided to go. The rest of us were rather resolute in spending Spring Vacation in the more usual way. Sticking to schedule wasn’t something most vampires liked to follow but for our clan, this was necessary to appear as human as possible.

My flaxen haired sister sat opposite me with her fists clenched under the table. She had given in to my pleas for her to accept Isabella for once. With her last foul glance, she enveloped Bella into an embrace and although the air was stilted that night, it seemed as if it was the beginning of something incredible, something perfect.

“Where is Bella?” She seemed genuinely curious and her eyes were downcast as if she was missing her.
“With Jacob,” admitted me, grudgingly.

Bella - with Jacob? No, bring her back, Edward. It’s not safe for her to be with him.

“I haven’t a choice, Rosalie. Bella has demanded I allow her to spend time with that mongrel. I do not approve of it either.”

“Then I will do it, silly Edward. Jacob hasn’t even seen me before. Maybe he’ll be so blown away by my beauty that he won’t be able to comprehend what I am about to do.” An arrogant smile tugged at her voluptuous lips and I could not resist grinning in return.

“Be careful, sister.”

“Of course, dear brother.” With these final words, she flounced out.

These would be the last words I would hear from her. That would be the last time I would see her; speak to her. When I lost Rosalie, it hurt almost as much as when Bella passed on. My heart ached as I remember her tenacity or the petty arguments we used to hold. I loved Rosalie more than I could ever convey. She probably died thinking I only barely tolerated her.

From what I heard from Bella later that night, Rosalie arrived in full spirit, growling and challenging Jacob in true Rosalie style.

“She wouldn’t stop pushing him. She just kept telling him to fight her and she said that without a doubt, she would win. And then,” Bella had balked and lost all color in her cheeks. Her eyes filled with water. It struck me as strange to see her so torn up over the death of the woman that had once hated her with a passion. “And then the others came; the other werewolves. Rosalie didn’t see them until too late; they killed her before she heard me warn her.”

And so this was how the first member of the Cullen clan passed on; with a fiery spirit in their heart and a loved one by their side. But her passing on didn’t come and go as we had all hoped it would, it lingered in the doorway and brought strange misgivings to our household.

It started a revolution.

A/n: I have no idea, whatsoever, of where I am going with this story. I guess I’m just dragging it on a little to see where it takes itself. So, I do plan on writing a few more chapters, maybe recount a little of the troubles that led from Rosalie’s death and perhaps a sequel about how Edward deals with the situation without Bella. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Much love and thanks. Junaberry.

Edward - Bella by K. L-WOOD

Fanart by Ikaris - "Bring on the Shackles; I'm your Prisoner"

Fanart by Roxy

"Romeo & Juliet"

















"The Lion and the Lamb"

















"Intoxicated"

Avatars by Sara (TwilightSmokeyMt)

Fanart by Ikaris - Untitled

Drawing by Amy: "Bella"