He staggered back as pain exploded against the side of his face. The impression of her heel was left embedded in his cheek. He spit blood out of his mouth as the venomous woman threw another kick to his gut. The man clenched his stomach as he fell to his knees. She approached him from behind after pulling the athame out of her heeled boots.

Rosalie gripped his shoulder length hair and pulled it back. His eyes stared up at the night sky as a scream erupted from his lips. Rosalie placed the athame against the left side of his throat and slid it towards the right side. She smiled to herself before releasing his brunette hair. She watched as his lifeless body fell completely to the ground. She pulled a napkin out of her pocket and wiped the knife down.
"It's complete." She asserted, placing the phone against her ear.

"Alright. Come home. I'll send someone to clean up the body."

Rosalie disappeared into the crowd of the nightclub. No one would know that it was her who killed a man on the roof of the building. She tied the black trench coat around her waist before stepping out into the cold night air.

She couldn't help but smile as she watched small families walk along the sidewalk…or drive pass her in a car. Rose always wanted that type of lifestyle, but she never had it. She was home-schooled so she never made friends. She never attended a school dance. She wasn't allowed to play outside. She never had a pet, or a boyfriend. She's been with men, but none of them long enough to say she was in a relationship. Training started when she was five. School work and training was what her life consisted of. By the time she was 16, she was a highly paid trained assassin.

Mark and Matthew were her only family. The brother duo trained her. They made her who she is today.

Nobody wants you Rosalie. Your family left you on our door step.

Mark would constantly bring up the fact that she wasn't wanted. It caused a nine year old girl to be consumed with hate. That hate is what they used to train her…to guarantee that she ended lives.

They didn't even bundle you up. They placed you in a cheap basket with nothing on, but a diaper. They rang the doorbell and left. They didn't even wait to see if anyone would answer. I bet they were happy to get rid of you.

They got rid of her, well she's going to get rid of them. Rosalie stopped in front of the post office box and slipped in the black gloves she wore when murdering Vladimir. She couldn't have anything connecting her to the crime.

I bet they're happy and raising a beautiful family. They probably have the best Thanksgivings and Christmases. They have a lot to be thankful for…one thing being that they got rid of you.

Rosalie pulled the photo of Esme and Carlisle out of her pocket. She glared down at the happy couple. They won't be happy for long. Abandoning her ruined her life. Now she was going to ruin there's.

In the photo, Carlisle and Esme were embracing each other. It was the only thing they had in the basket. No clothes or a blanket were in the basket. It was just her and a folded up picture of her birth parents.
"Get in." Mark ordered, pulling up beside Rose.

She looked around to make sure no one was watching before hopping inside. The drive back was silent. Mark evened out his breathing as he drove her back home.
"Did he put up too much of a fight?"

"No."

"Matt is handling his body." Mark informed, patting her thigh, "You did a good job."

"Thank you."

Rosalie held no emotion on her face. She didn't know how to take compliments. They hardly ever came so she felt no need to get use to them. Rose would never understand why Esme and Carlisle chose this house…this family…this neighborhood. It was horrible. She walked up the three creaky porch stairs before entering the house.

The sluts of the week sat in the living room, smoking a cigarette. They waved at her as Mark directed Rosalie towards the basement.
"I'll send dinner down soon." He informed, watching her walk down the stairs, "Have fun."

He shut the door and she heard it lock. The small room seemed huge when she was a little girl. Now that she's a twenty year old woman, the room seemed rather small. She didn't have room to walk around. Pulling the picture out of her pocket, she set it down on her quaint sized bed. Going into her closet, she grabbed what clothes she owned and stuffed them into a bag. Her life was hell, but paying Carlisle and Esme back was going to be worth it. It was going to be worth all of the trouble she had to go through for 20 years of life.

Rosalie took a seat on her bed and waited for Mark to come down with dinner. That was when she was going to leave. The young blond took this as her opportunity to take in her room. Bed. Bathroom. Closet. Training equipment. Television didn't exist in her room, and neither did laptops, iPods and anything else electronic.

She grabbed her bag as she heard the basement door unlock. Meeting Mark halfway up the stairs, she rushed past him. After kicking the door shut, she locked it.
"Rosalie Hale you better unlock this door!" he demanded, banging erratically on it, "I swear! I'm going to kill you when I get out of here!"

Rosalie smiled as she grabbed the car keys off of the coffee table. This was going to be one hell of an adventure. She tossed her bag into the backseat before hopping into Mark's car. Esme and Carlisle are going to get what's coming to them, one way or another. It was time to make things right. It was time to show them what they gave up. It was time to show them what their precious daughter has become.