From this point to forever after (unless she says otherwise), the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

1. Suicide

I was losing her.

Even under the influence of death, Bella looked lovely. Her cheeks, pale and snowy white, looked to me like delicious pools of red. Her mouth, closed and colorless, appeared as beautiful doors of sweet breath and life.

I was losing my mind. Taking a deep breath, I was disappointed to realize that her scent would never come fully at me now. The blood I smelled was still singing to me, but I had no right to drink it.

Of course, my disappointment did not come close to my grief. My sadness, anger, hopelessness, melancholy, all triggered by one moment: Bella's death.

It was for the best that her eyes were closed. I do not know if I could ever leave, if I were to look into those haunting wells of warm brown. That's one thing to be thankful for.

Did I dare look away from her lifeless form? From the flowing puddle of crimson that lay beneath her body, and the knife that had caused them all? I would eventually, but right now, I had time.

I followed the route of Bella's blood. It seeped through the floorboards, blessing them with the color red. I felt the venom almost spilling from my mouth, but I suppressed all my urges.

My eyebrows furrowed. How could she do this?

But furthermore, how could I let it happen? How was Bella able to commit suicide? My body shook just from thinking about it.

I wonder what Bella's up to now, she's been moody lately. But she always tells me she's fine. I'm starting to worry, and my schedule's been crazy this week... It was Charlie. My head reflexively turned to the direction he was coming from. He would be here in five minutes, and he'll come home to his personal hell.

Not for the first time, I didn't know what to do with Bella. Should I leave her body? No. I would stay here. I'll let Charlie lash out on me as much as he would want. I deserved more than that.

Waiting for the minutes to tick by, I searched my mind for the why in Bella's action.

I took a ragged breath.

"Bella, how could you..." She didn't want this life anymore. This was her way of running, and I was letting her go.

I wouldn't follow her. Existing without her was the worst form of death, and I deserved it all. A masochist I will forever be.

Edward better be up there with her. It seems like the only times they're together, she's content. But Jacob, poor lad. I only wish Bella knows what she's doing...