Disclaimer: I did not write or own any rights to the Twilight books cause if I did I would have realized that making a werewolf imprint on the very thing that he was born to destroy is not exactly right in any way.
AN: Hello all amazing fanfic readers and writers! I am a long time reader of the fanfiction site but this is my first time actually publishing a story. I do not have a beta so sorry if this first chapter is kind of rough. It would be great if people put some feedback on how I can improve my own writing. I hope you enjoy the first chapter and if you have any questions feel free to ask and I will answer. That is all for now! --SacredWritings
Prologue
Pain, guilt, emptiness. The feelings were on a continuous loop. Like a new song that a radio station plays until it goes out of style. Until that very new song is no longer cool but irritating and for some reason no matter what I do I can't stop humming it. That is what my feelings were like. I don't know if I can feel anything else; I don't know if I am even capable of feeling anything else.
Pain. It is unbearable. It is not like the pain when one skids their knees on the gravel or when you break your arm cliff diving. This pain is emotional and I would trade anything in the world to not feel this way. Hell I would settle being in the hospital with a full body cast then feel this. I thought it was tough when I caught Sam with Emily, not even a week after he broke it off with me. Broke it off with no reason. I thought that I could never feel as bad as I did that day. I was wrong.
Guilt. It consumes me for how I left things with him. I was mad, beyond mad. I should not have said what I did but I did say it and now I can never take any of it back because he is no longer here. You know what is really messed up is that I can not remember exactly what I said to him. All I remember is his eyes that were pained and clouding over with tears before I turned my back on him and walked out the door. That look has haunted me for the past two nights. I can hardly sleep anymore knowing that when I close my eyes I will see the reason why I yelled at him and wake up with those eyes as the last thing I remember.
Emptiness. With the pain and the guilt one would think that it is hard to feel emptiness. Those people are wrong. The emptiness has nothing to do with feelings but about being left out of something important. Something that is bigger than me. Looking around I see only close friends and family, even people that I feel should not be here. I have listened to their conversations and I have watched how careful they are with their words when I am around. Even my own mother is in on it for the fact that when I asked where Seth, my own brother, was she looked at the people around us as if asking for permission to tell me. No one seems to give her the okay and she says that he just needs time to himself. I want to call her on her bullshit but I can not bring myself to upset her more.
So here I am sitting uncomfortably in a dress in a plastic chair that has made my ass go numb. The sun peaks in and out of the clouds passing by. The air is chilly but I don't really feel it. I hear the sniffles around me. The weight of my mother's head is on my shoulder as she cries leaving a large wet spot on the fabric that cools my skin. Everyone (except my brother, who is not here) around me has somber looks and are wiping their eyes with tissues, sleeves, hands, handkerchiefs and the like. Me, I can't cry. I can not bring myself to cry. I should be crying; I loved him. It would be acceptable if I did. After all this is a mourning period but I can't. I have to be strong for my mother, for my brother (if he ever shows up).
I had to be strong while we made the arrangements. I had to be strong when I made the final decisions on what coffin and headstone to use. I have to be strong as my mom can't seem to be able to get out one syllable let alone a sentence at the end of the ceremony. I have to be strong and thank every single guest for coming. I have to be strong even though the pain, guilt and emptiness are eating me up on the inside. I am the one that has to be strong while I watch him be lowered into the ground. I have to be strong at my father's funeral. Harry Clearwater's daughter will not cry, not here.