English Coursework:
Personal Writing:
The later events of New Moon from Edward's point of view:
It was over. My previous efforts had been in vain. She had been my sole reason for existing, my whole life and now she was gone. And it was my fault entirely.
For Rosalie had said she had jumped off a cliff in La Push – committed suicide. Alice had gone back to Forks to comfort Charlie, she had had a vision of it, and yet she hadn't told me. I could have gone back as well, breaking my promise to never return lest I hurt her again, and I could have stopped her. But would I have been able to leave her again? Knowing that it was my disappearance that had killed her in the first place? It didn't matter now; nothing mattered. She was dead and soon I would be too – I would not live without her any longer and hopefully I would be granted my wish for death and go to heaven (if such a place existed for those such as us) and join her there. But even when I was ash, would I still feel the torture of her loss? Even one as strong as I was could not bear such a great pain. And as if to increase my torment the plane to Italy was painfully slow in comparison to how I had reached the airport.
After I had hung up on Rosalie's phone call I'd sat in the dusty darkness of the humid attic for a long, frozen space. It was like time had ended and the universe had stopped. Even though I had promised never to do so, I had turned my phone back on and dialled the one number I thought I could never call again. If it had been her, I would have hung up. If it had been her father, Charlie, I would have got the information through subterfuge. But it wasn't either of them.
The words of the strange boy on the phone that had confirmed my fears echoed in my head, "He's at the funeral". The funeral. Her funeral. Bella. Gone. Forever. I'd shut the phone and run. Ran from that dark attic space full of rats and spiders where the air was thick with the scents of cooking oil, rancid meat, human sweat and the nearly solid layer of pollution that was actually visible in the humid air, like a black film over everything, all of which was meaningless. My very existence was meaningless. Without her the whole world was meaningless. I needed to die.
All over the world the Volturi were considered to be almost royalty, they controlled our species and ensured our secret was never discovered. They lived in Volterra and had not left for at least two millennia and it was to them that I was headed. I would ask them to consider my request to end my life and then it would be over.
And if they refused my request for death? What then? I would have to force them to act, to protect themselves and all like us from ruin. They would not risk discovery and would act very swiftly. Lifting up a car with one hand in the Palazzo dei Priori? Or going hunting in their beloved city? Or perhaps doing something even more dramatic? All I had to do was flaunt their secret inside their city – the city they had secretly held (as vampires) for three thousand years, since the time of the Etruscans, of which they were so protective they did not even hunt within its walls. They had even made a huge spectacle of supposedly removing all vampires from within its walls; Marcus had even been made a saint for it, when in fact they had just lived there in secret. I was going to unveil them in the safest city from vampire attack in the world – and they were not going to like it.
I sat unmoving in my seat among the jet setters and businessmen in first class and considered my death; Esme would be distraught, Carlisle too, Emmett and Jasper would also mourn me although I had been gone so long already that it might ease the pain. Alice, who had been so reluctant to leave in the first place, would have seen my decision and would probably follow me and try to persuade me to live; she too would greatly mourn the loss. And Rosalie, who only ever thought of herself and her own happiness? She would not grieve for me, only for the impact that it had had on those around her that would detract from her own happiness; for to her, being as egotistical as she was, her happiness the most important thing in the world.
I chuckled darkly to myself, the closest I had come to laughing in months and earned a disdainful look from the woman opposite me. And then her expression changed as she looked closer – her thoughts giving away what her face was making all too clear. That was what I needed; the mind numbing chatter of the human mind. The woman's thoughts and those of the other people on the plane swirled around my head as if they were shouting them at me. I tried in vain to block out the monotony of their thoughts. I saw my face several times and felt nauseated. Were humans really so shallow? Even still, I would only ever love Bella. And now she was gone I would willingly follow her.
The plane landed with a jolt preventing any further thoughts of my end – the eleven and a half hour flight seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye (not that I needed to blink of course), my mind was now seemingly oblivious to the passing of such mundane measures such as time. On leaving the plane I was forced to quickly navigate the airport terminal and then I was running. The sun glinted off my skin so it sparkled like ten thousand diamonds as I streaked through the luscious green of the country. I did not see what was around me, only her face etched permanently into my brain, like a guardian angel, bringing me ever closer to the blissful nothingness of death. I would endure every fiery ring of hell if it meant I didn't have to be in a world without Bella.
"He's at the funeral" The words echoed once more through my tortured mind bringing with them new images; Bella, cold, white, and lifeless, laying in a coffin; the coffin closing on her beautiful face; then gone forever. No-one would ever her mellifluous voice again, or see her cheeks redden once more. She would never laugh, or talk, or cry any more. I choked back a sob realising that the only painkiller would be death. I pushed myself even harder, running so fast that to any human eye I would have been a mere flash of white, for there had to be peace somewhere. Or would this torture follow me even after my body was gone? I pushed these thoughts from my mind, focussing solely on the coming relief.