Disclaimer: I may not own Twilight or its characters/setting/plot/or anything relating to it, but I do own the characters I write here that are not included in the Twilight series. I own the ideas I put on this paper. And that's about all I own here.
Several hundred years I have stood here beside these supposedly royal people. For several hundred years I have gritted my teeth in utter disappointment when situations have arose and I was never placed in charge of their handling. Things here in the vampire world are to be taken care of in a particular manner, one that has the whole world bowing down to those who are responsible for the glorious outcome.
That person should have rightfully been me.
Through the first dozen years I had earned the right to that sort of response from the people I so graciously helped rule over. It became something I saw as a deserving reward and to this day I have yet to receive even a small ounce of what I originally planned to gain here.
Upon my arrival in Italy years ago, too many to trace, too many to attempt to remember, I was solidly placed next to Aro. Together we had taken apart towns, had people at our knees begging for the mercy that I fed myself on when blood was not enough. Jane came along and pushed me into the dust some odd years ago. It is needless to say there is a sufficient amount of distaste towards her now, even centuries later.
Now I stand in the shadows of every decision, breathe in the accomplishments of others and envision myself earning the same satisfaction from everything other people around here do.
My day will come when all those who neglect my appearance, who simply push me aside to watch the actions of others from the sidelines, who mutter my name with no meaning, no feeling, my day will come when they will be bowing down to me, kissing the feet they have stepped on cruelly with their pride and selfishness. The day will come when the name Emma Chaplain is spoken through loyal lips, with every emotion I have desired to gain from people. I will make sure this outcome is one that has been played by my hand for once and the several hundred years I have kept silent, kept my lips under lock-and-key will all come crumbling down in a single day, with a single word.
Edward Cullen will regret the day he ever spoke of what he was, of what lies in the darkness of night, of what truth there is in the horror stories of vampires and goblins. And although he will regret it, I will relish in it, for without him I would not have the opportunity to obtain the glory I have dreamed of, have lusted over.
Edward Cullen, I thank you.
