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"Deal."

I carried on as if it was not my body speaking; they were not my limbs agreeing to cohort with this bedazzled, flame-haired monster-bitch. It was not me stating that I would turn my back on all that I once knew to hand my mind over to her wiry claws.

"Follow me," she hissed. Flashy embers seemed to cascade from her hair to the dried grass laid below as she twitched with each snapping branch, frantically. We were in the meadow, Edward's den of choice. How ironic it was that this place, once safe a haven that represented all my sweetest deliriums and carnivorous fears, would turn into my final stand.

The whistle of the trees suggested incomprehensible speeds, fascinating and terrifying me at the same time. To this day, this moment in time, I could not understand my pull to their world; the beauty garnered from it was a speck compared to the audacity of the ugly truths my subconscious would not let me accept. As she crushed me roughly to her hard, cold body covered in the deceptive furs of something that once was and the noxious fluids from my body, I thought of Jake. Or Sam's Jake.

His rejection would forever be my last interaction with not just La Push, but the whole of the Washington state body; the whole West Coast if I had any say. His words, laced with lies and malice, were prodding rambunctiously at an already gaping hole, oozing with disdain-ridden, tainted affairs.

I could hear the replay as if it happened moments ago, not the three sunsets it took me to overcome my Victoria induced coma and the one-day hike to her.

His hair was gone; that was the real zinger. The locks and strands I used to compare to rays of sun were not there. Assuming that his hair will grow back, the cult-influenced tattoo should have affected me more; it looked as if he was branded by Nature herself.

"Sam's just trying to help, Bella." he muttered.

If only I were not human the, hopefully, vicious snarl of a laugh I let loose would be less mundane. Normal, something I never had to strive for, bred into me from the fetus; only after coming to the dull and wet town of Forks did I realize how I should have relished being in the backround, that being 'special' was not all it was cracked up to be. Hell, it was looking pretty nonchalant right now.

"But you promised," the meek reply fluttered out of my mouth.

This was not who I wanted to be. I never imagined myself as the whining heroine from some crack-fic fairytale, dependent upon the actions of her blonde-haired, blue-eyed, shiny-toothed martyr; I didn't want to become the opposing side of the Girls Roller Durby spectrum- weak.

Jake watched me with the fierceness of a top-class predator, prying and scoping the strength of my defenses; which, if I was to be honest to myself, next to nil. Though I didn't know where the piercing calculation in his gaze derived from, I was rendered no less vulnerable as whenever his chocolate coated eyes met mine.

"I'm not good, Bella." This statement confused me more than its predecessors. If my Jacob, my over-grown, 'roid obsessed ray of sunshine, was not good, then what did that make me? "I used to be, not anymore."

"No, no Jacob! Is this Sam?" I spat out my new 'ring-buddies name', "Is he pressuring you? Just say no." I thought it funny how I would've said the same thing to a sexually active teenage girl.

"This isn't Sam's fault, Bella; you can't put this on him. But, if you want someone to blame, blame those blood junkie's, the Cullen's! This is their fault; their decision to remain here started a chain reaction within La Push. All of this could have been avoided, Bella. We could have lived here, at home; being with me would be as easy as breathing. You would have eventually loved m-"

"But Jake, I'm trying, I'm really trying." I begged helplessly.

"No!" Jake roared. "It's too late, Bella. Everything has already been decided. Everything we could have had has been was torn apart because those leaches can't handle a little fucking sun! But you wanna know the most fucked up part of all this?"

"Jake-" I tried to speak through the not-so-proverbial, mucusy lump in my throat. The feel of his eyes went from hard to murderous. Violent tremors tore through his body like the heroine addict's latest fix, clenching and squeezing for the pleasure of the pain. My body reacted to the animalistic showcase in its most natural reflex- by taking a cautious step back. The most revolting part of my reaction being the satisfaction I got out of 'mister-calm' losing his cool. I couldn't tell which of the 'Jake's' I respected more.

"It's the fact that I can see your need for him, still. If that blood-sucker walked up to you now, you'd take him back with open arms and ready veins. I don't understand your sick need to be hurt constantly by a sparkling carcass!"

"Jake," his words hurt- understatement. "What is all this? What's happening to you...? Why are you hurting me?"

"Because it's my turn, Bella. For once, I'm gonna say what I feel about your stupidity." He seethed.

"...Ouch that hurt..."

He continued on as if I said nothing.

…I'm thinking of writing one hell of an epic story out of this and I need to know if people will actually read it before I invest all of my precious summer into getting at least an outline for a trilogy and 30k words out. Comment/review on what you think and if there's anything you'd like to see in this piece.

Thanks for Reading,

Gabby