A/N: my first angsty one. Needed to try a new direction in my stories, needed some inspiration for my other story. Check it out!

My name is Renesmee Carlie Cullen. I am half vampire, half human. I appear about 17 or 18, but in fact am only 3 or 4. But I am wise for my age.

My human mother died giving birth to me. The pain of loss has never left my house, and it isn't unusual for one small thing to happen that makes everybody want to cry.

The time when I was young, and we were going out to the mall; I turned and asked my dad,

"Why is Forks so green?" He looked at me, and I saw the look he always got when I reminded him of my mother. I never got an answer, and it never mattered. I turned to look out the window.

Then there were the stronger, more painful things that happened.

Like the first time my vampire father dared to play my mother's lullaby after she died. It was so beautiful, but he told me he had altered it. More pain, and more love had been poured into it, he said. The love he was supposed to give my mother for the rest of eternity. He never finished that song, and it was hard to tell where his pain ended, and everyone else's began.

I felt the worst for Uncle Jasper. He had to deal with all of our emotions combined. He actually left for almost a year, to train with the Volturi to become strong enough to turn his power off. I don't think he ever turned it back on once he learned.

I cry every single night. I remember being in the womb, though I am not sure why. Grandpa Carlisle says that it's because I am special. I wish I wasn't special. Maybe my mother wouldn't have left us. I loved her, and I remember how happy she was to hear that when my father told her. The joy is so painful now.

I do have Aunt Rosalie, though. She always tries to be there, and I can tell she loves me. But, she is too pushy. She will never be close to my mother.

I know my father wants to die. But I am the binding rope, the only thing that he would stay for. He does it for me, and I know that. But, his death would hurt a lot less then the pain I know he is going through. Do you know how it feels to put someone so selfless in so much pain just for you? It hurts. He loves me, but he loves the vision of dying and being with his true love once more.

I have a shell of a family. My father was the center of the family. My mother was his whole world. When she died, he did too. All that's left is a pile of misery in a body that only functions. Not lives. Grandma Esme can't bear that he is like that, which offsets Grandpa Carlisle. He is the base of the family. When he falls, everything does.

Jacob. I love him. The only light in my life, no matter how bright that light is. It isn't bright. He is almost as bad as my family. I can barely believe he loves me when he says it does.

He has called me Bella or Bells 9 times, and almost called me Bella almost thirty times. Do you know how that feels? To have the person who is made for you get stolen because of your mother who died and stole the rest of your life with it.

Sometimes I hate her so much.

Sometimes I cry so much I feel like I want to die too.

The pain of having no real life is unbearable. It's all a hoax, all the 'love' I get in my family, or with Jacob. I love Jacob so much it hurts, and imprinting was not supposed to hurt, because both people were supposed to want each other. But he would trade the love he could have with me to have her alive, even though he wasn't his to have. I wish she was never born, because not living at all would be better then this sometimes.

I remember the last time we laughed in this house. Afterward, everyone was angry with himself or herself for being happy.

The hurt of not having her is bad too. I knew how happy everybody would be if she was here and not me. Whenever I think about that I cry. I pray to God, that this is just my dad's bad dream and he will wake up to his love, and I will not exist.

Though my family thinks God doesn't exist because he made us like this, and because he took Bella. I disagree. Maybe I'm supposed to be here. Is that wrong, for someone like me to be here while my mother is dead and gone?

I once saw something horrible when I was younger. I had put my hand up to my dad's cheek to tell him something. I saw my mother, lying on a table. It was right after she died giving birth to me. Her face was twisted in pain and her stomach had been torn out. All I could think was I caused that. It's entirely my fault. My dad knew I saw that, and he saw me run away, crying hysterically. He never followed me to comfort me. I didn't deserve it.

She was beautiful, alive and wholesome. I see pictures of her, she simply lights up the room.

But here I sit, a waste of space. Waiting, until something happens to clear up my unfailing desolation.

A/N: good? Bad? No flames, please!!!!!