"Nobody wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven do not want to die to get there "
(Steve Jobs to graduates of Stanford, 2005)

It happened once, while I was driving down that last stretch of the muddy dirt road that leads to the house of Jacob, that a stone had hit the windshield of the Chevy, leaving a tiny mark. Much Ado About Nothing, and an outsized fright, as Victoria was hunting me at the time and any little noise out of the ordinary caused me, as well as a heart attack, the vision of myself on the ground in a pool of blood, under the clutches of a monster with bright red shining hair.
Jake had insisted that I immediately had the windshield fixed.
-But that's nothing! Look, I can't even see the sign- I replied.
He explained to me, then, that the invisible chip on the glass had caused a break in the deepest level of the whole structure of the crystal. An invisible break, but it would have exploded into a myriad of pieces as soon as it would come past the point of no return.
-Just drive into a pothole, Bells, and you'll find yourself in the oper air.
So, once again, I listened to my favorite mechanic, even if it the problem was not exactly in the engine this time, and I did had the chip fixed, in a fast-fit station.
But the thought of the invisible chip that one day, sooner or later, is destined to destroy the crystal, had strangely and deeply impressed on my mind. I had created a kind of mental picture very vivid and real of it. I saw and reviewed by the mind's eye the wound underground, corrupting the essence of the glass and finally causing the explosion, in a billion drops of light. The shining fragments sparkled of a bright brilliance, very similar to the fascinating vision of Edward's skin, a distant day in our meadow.

Now I felt as if I were the crystal and the silent work of destruction was done to myself. Not under the skin, but much more deeply.
If I had to identify exactly when the crack had begun to form, I had to necessarily return to the memory of days the mere thought of which made me bent over in pain.
I was on the very cliff that overlooks the stretch of beach called First Beach, where the Quileute boys throw themselves in the water to prove their courage. I watched the water, from far away, foaming under me and watched the horrified Edward in my thoughts, trying to convince me not to jump.
Hearing his words, his voice worrying about me was exactly what I needed. Even knowing it was a hallucination.
I took a rapid run-up and jumped.
People say that you review your entire life in an instant before dying; I had not sought death with intent, but something inside me, the little of me that was still healthy, knew that the risk of dying was much more of an hypothesis.
The rocks approached and the wind wrapped in a whipping spiral around my body, going up the rocky coast, and taking my breath away with him.
It was at that moment that I knew it was true. Not that I had not already tried to see the face of Death: James had brought me very close to her, that I could almost touch her. But everything had been so much slower.
Again I saw the rocks get closer, the black water increasingly immense and frightening, and a continuum of faces: Charlie and Renee. Charlie who was informed of my death and called Renee, my parents in tears ... And I could no more console them. And Jacob, Jacob, split in two by remorse like a tree struck by lightning. Jacob destroyed by another loss, and, plunged into the forest, a wolf howling in pain.
I finally hit the water and was now struggling against the angry tide that pushed me against the rocks, until I lost consciousness.
When I awoke, Jacob was there in disbelief and too happy to see me still breathing.
At that moment I also learned of the death of Harry Clearwater: it was at the right time for me to crystallize the excruciating feeling of the extreme fragility of the bonds with those we love. Only a moment, a fraction of a thousandth of a second: the conviction that nothing is obvious. I risked to lose myself to the people who loved me. And there were, oh, there were. Edward was not among them, so I thought at the time, but for a brief moment I realized the enormous fortune of being still in the world and still be loved, even though I was only the shadow of myself.
Only a moment, a small flash of light before plunging back into my warm numbness, which was cured only by the presence of Jacob, as a temporary and insufficient remedy.
I think it was just that split second. The microscopic, hard stone that started the crack in the crystal.