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Walking. I have no concept of time. I've never carried a watch; never purchased one, or felt the need to use one. People checked the time because they were anxious for it to fly by; to pass them by, waving. I didn't care for time. I had an eternity of it stretching out before me.
Days fade into nights, and before I'm even aware the moon has risen, the skies lighten and the sun glides up again. I watch my skin sparkle, simply because it's the most interesting thing occurring. I hold out my wrist, twisting and turning it, watching as the sunlight hits it and causes to sparkle, like a thousand diamonds sewn into the flesh.
I realize, months later, that I'm mourning. Before, I didn't understand this feeling, like I'd been given a death sentence. The walking with no direction; passing through towns and cities and villages, never stopping, always walking, as if my feet are being somehow drawn to something inexplicably amazing.
They're leading me to nothing. Because there is nothing left for me in this world anymore. Walking, just like everything else, is pointless. Each step contributes towards nothing. For the first time since I'd become immortal, I felt despair. What is the point of carrying on?, I wonder, and realize that there is no point.
I was created, for him. He created me for himself. Much like a little girl would select the most prettiest doll in the shop, he picked me in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Maybe my flame-coloured hair reminded him of fire; and thought I'd be the perfect mate, with an equally fiery attitude. Maybe, he saw something in my eyes that he liked. A certain shine.
It was hard to harbour resentment towards him, even in the beginning, when my humanity was taken away from me, with no consent to speak of. Even then, a newborn, who should've been out of control with thirst, I could never hate James. He was my everything; the one I gravitated towards, the one who I loved, the one who made me like this.
My existence seemed like a mockery now he was no longer here, sparkling beside me.
I keep on walking. If I were human, my legs would've given way to exhaustion, but my kind don't crumble and break. I walk because I want to forget this grief that consumes me, the hollow feeling. For the first time in my vampire life, I wanted to cry. I willed the tears to appear. I may as well complete the mourning process and sob, shouldn't I?
My thoughts strayed to the Cullen's. My fists had clenched sharply into fists, and I longed to destroy each and every one of them, like they each in turn destroyed him. To terminate them, to end them. But even I had to accept there was no way of taking down that coven. They remained untouchable; only faltering and meeting their end in my mind, while I imagined the ways I'd torture, the ways I'd kill.
I remembered. A pale-faced human girl; a pet for the Cullens. How had she slipped my thoughts before? A human girl entirely out of her depth; fallen in love with Edward, the one whose very name caused me to see rage. He had done all he could to protect her… Such efforts wouldn't be made unless his feelings were genuine…
Mate for a mate. I