Gravestone of Two Lovers

Disclaimer- I do not own Twilight or anything that goes with that. I only own the idea for this story.

This is after Edward leaves Bella in New Moon, and Eclipse and Breaking Dawn did not happen. Thanks to my Beta AliceDianaBrenner for reviewing a third of this for me. I did most of the editing solo this time so hopefully it will not be too bad. The first chapter of my story does not have dialogue, and I know that I really do not like reading a story that goes on forever without dialogue, but I promise that this was necessary and if you don't read all of it, you will not be able to understand a lot of my story. Hopefully there will be dialogue in the 2nd 2.

Chapter 1- I Hate Flowers

BPOV-

It's been 77 years since I was turned. 77 long, painful, useless years. After denying my thirst like Carlisle, mourning the loss of my boy, my love, the only thing worth living for like Esme, curling up in a ball like being mauled and sliced open by a bear like Emmett, and a furious desire to be under a gravestone right now like Rosalie wanted to be. Jasper would be in extreme pain if he was near me now, he would feel all the suffering I felt so greatly.

The other names, the names of the other vampires I loved, were too painful for me to speak, let alone think. It would make my life – no, I had no life now – existence much more painful.

But now I was in my old home from when I was human. Police Chief Charlie Swan's house had never been owned by another soul, he had been so grief ridden by the untimely death of his precious daughter, Isabella Marie Swan, until now. Isabella had been murdered seven days after her heart had been ripped out and torn to shreds (figuratively) after her beloved abandoned her.

Nobody knew who killed her because her throat had been ripped out viciously and her head mauled. There had been no marks as to who or what had been the killer. But I had not died, I had been turned. Turned into what had been my past's most deepest desire, but was now the most extreme torture to me.

One lifetime without him was not enough for her, Victoria. My whole existence had to be without him. I was completely and utterly miserable. Of course, I had killed her for subjecting me to this torment, but I could not bring myself to kill myself and put myself out of this world that had become my Hell on Earth.

He had told me hundreds of lies, but what if one of those lies actually meant something? What if he really could not live in a world where I did not exist? I knew I really shouldn't care no matter what, and I should hate him with every part of my soul, and in some ways I truly despised him, but my heart, even though it has been cold and silent for 77 long years, still belongs to him. I was also silly, but no matter how silly I was, I will never give up on my argument with him. Vampires have souls, no matter what he says. I even believe that I have a soul, though my soul is dark and empty because of all my pain and loss. My soul now owns my old house, in my old town of Forks, where I had lost everything. I have had this conversation over and over again every day in my head for fifty years, and I have finally started to move on, or start a new life, to the very best of my very poor abilities.

With a soft rustle of wind, I was out the door and in front of my own gravestone in 7 seconds (A/N I have a thing for the number 7- on with the story). How I always wished that I could be in the earth right now. I could be resting, though I know not peacefully because of the pain I was in when I supposedly died. But I am still in pain, and just like Victoria wanted, I will be in pain for the rest of my worthless existence. This is the third time I have visited my grave since I came back to Forks, and again there were those beautiful flowers on my grave. I hated them. I hated the fact that people still mourned over me. I wanted to be forgotten. I hated it that people still cared about me when I didn't care about myself. Even though, I felt anger and sadness, I still felt a little hope. Not enough for me to give up everything I had just built back. If I opened myself up to all the hope I could feel building in me, I would be worse than the walking dead, since vampires are technically dead.

I looked around me carefully, and used my extra hearing to make sure no one was around me. I thought I sensed a presence in the woods behind me, but my subconscious told me not to worry- it is nothing to worry about. I bent down to the flowers and pressed my hand against them. I released some of my pain into the flowers and they wilted and became brown and dead.

My power is being able to take pain away from any living thing, but more specifically people. I did not have to have contact with them to do it, but I did have to be within seeing distance. My power was two sided, meaning that I could also give pain to living things, but I had to touch them to actually give them pain. I had to want to take or give pain for my power to work, but that just made my worthless existence a little bit easier, when I did not have to worry about controlling an already tame power.

The wind started to blow lightly and some of those dead flowers, that were no longer pretty, turned to dust and went with the wind. That was when I caught it. That sweet, sweet scent. The scent that always came with the beautiful flowers that were always on my grave. It was never strong enough for that person to still be around, but just an extra scent that came with the flowers.

This time it came with the wind, and it rode the wind like it was a knight, and the wind was its trusty steed. This scent was more concrete. I could feel that the dreaded person was close, and no doubted coming here. I knew I had to leave before I was spotted, but for some reason my feet stayed rooted to the spot. Took a deep breath, trying to regain control over myself, and that wonderful scent started caressing my face. For the first time in 77 years, I felt whole again. It was like I found a little piece of my old heaven, right in the middle of my personal hell.

I stopped breathing altogether. Was this how he felt? When I had been in his life? Was this what the scent of my blood had felt like to him? But I knew it was nothing like that. My throat did not burst into flames like it first did when I was turned. But this was different. This was not blood that was calling to me, but it was the scent of a vampire. The thought was like a shock to my system. My breathing spiked and I knew that if I was still human, my heart would be beating, that now unfamiliar, jointed rhythm. But I was not human anymore, and even thinking like that was crazy.

Then I heard footsteps, and my head whipped around to look at the source of the noise. I froze like a deer caught in headlights, then I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could, not knowing where I was going, and not caring either. I eventually collapsed and let my dry sobs shake my body fiercely.

I was on my knees bending over the Sol Duc River (A/N the river near the Cullen's house I do not have my book) clutching my chest. I did not know why my legs brought me here, but I did not care right now, and I doubted that I would care ever again as my body heaved more dry sobs. For now I was pouring my heart out into this calm memorable river.

Thanks to everyone who read this, and stuck through it. I really do not know what to think of it, so please review. Any kind of comment is appreciated.

Thanks,

7HSVO7