Warning this is rated M for decribing rape, if this bothers you dont read. I do have ### to mark where so you can skip if you wish.

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles

It's a very, very... mad world... mad world...

Adam Lambert- Mad World

I always thought love would be easy. That once you find the one person you are meant to be with that everything will fall into place.

Obviously not a "and they all lived happily ever after." There is always more to the story; however, I just thought that being in loved made everything flow smoothly. I, of all people should have known better. My life, my love story was never easy.

But didn't that make it better? Didn't that make it stronger, more real? I guess I thought that once I passed the obstacle of marriage, of getting over my own insecurities of a wedding right out of high school that all my dreams would come true.

And yet, here I lay in a pile of my own cooling blood. Choking on that life-force.

How did I get here? Of all the ways I could have died in the last two years I never imagined that this would be it. Left for dead on the living room floor in the Cullen mansion, my blood staining the carpet once again. Bruised, repeatedly stabbed and assaulted as I wheeze in my last few remaining breaths I see my life float past my eyes.

I see Renee and me throughout the years, the laughter and tears of adolescence. I see Charlie teaching me how to cast a fishing rod, the long drives to various outdoor related events. The few friends I had in Phoenix and the warm sunshine of the desert.

Then my flashes became more detailed. I saw every moment that ever happened with the love of my existence. The wonder and mystery, the confusion and love I held for him. The hopes and dreams. The emptiness I felt after he left. I saw my reunion with him under the clock tower and the fear of losing him all over again. I saw how we pulled ourselves back together, became stronger and yet I realized why it is that I'm here, unmoving on the floor.

Fear of the unknown.

I was afraid to express how desperately I needed him, how much I needed him to make me his in every way that was possible. His fear of hurting me physically that led to emotional pain. It became so clear to me the fear he had that I would learn to hate him because of the thing I wanted so badly without fully contemplating the consequences.

I saw how trepidation filled his face on our wedding night. His fear that I would become angry or leave because we did not have a 'real' wedding night like I had hoped. I saw his tender caress and how he held back. I simply wanted us to 'try.' And we did, for a few weeks. I saw our joy of being together in college, the past semester at Dartmouth with my love choosing the same major as I so we could take all our classes together.

Then the last week played before my eyes. Our reunion with the rest of the Cullen family in Forks for Christmas, the teasing comments from Emmett, the prying conversation with Alice and Rose about married life. The awkwardness when they realized that there really was nothing to tell.

The conversation I had with Carlisle two nights ago in his study when everyone else was out shopping. How he told me he would change me before the year was out if I still wanted it. The sad look in his caring eyes when I told him "We both know he prefers I say human. He doesn't want me to stay by his side for eternity, but I will take what I can from him."

And finally the last hours of my life came to view. I convinced Edward to go with the family on their day long hunting trip, to not worry about me. I spent the time wrapping gifts and cooking extra frozen meals for Charlie in his yellow kitchen. I saw the joy on Charlie's face as I spent the afternoon with him, happy that I did not wish to participate in the 'traditional Christmas break hunting trip' but wanted to spent time with him.

Then the last horrifying moments came to me. It was dark out and I had the lights on downstairs and the curtains open, easy for anyone to peer inside without my knowledge. I turned the radio on and was skipping around to the lively pop Christmas music after finishing giftwrapping my last minute purchases. I moved into the kitchen to make dinner for myself, chopping up vegetables singing off key to the music when I heard a loud bang.

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Startled, I dropped the knife and turned towards the sound. Facing the entrance to the kitchen from the entranceway was a man dressed in dark clothing. Fear griped me. I stumbled backwards, tripping over my shaking feet, my rear landing onto the cold tile floor. Before I could right myself back up the attacker was on me, slamming my head on the hard surface.

I struggled to push him off me. Wiggling my torso in an attempt to unpin myself and begging for mercy. My assailant backslapped me across my right cheek. I screamed out and managed to free one hand. Using it the best way I could I trust the base of my palm into his nose, hoping to push the nasal bone into the brain. Unfortunately I only angered him more from my failed attempt.

"You like it rough, babe?" his vile words breathed on me.

Leaning in he bit the side of my left jaw. I screamed and yanked my right knee up, finding contact between his legs. With him distracted from pain I leaped up and ran towards the entrance hallway, aiming for the front door. I heard a metallic scrape on stone as I reached the hallway crashing into the opposite wall in my rush to flee.

Feet slipping as my socks refused purchase on the hard wood floor. I didn't hear him coming. The only sound ringing in my ears was my own shallow breaths and the thudding of my racing heart. Reaching for the door that was wide open I was thrown into the living room, landing on the coffee table.

Rolling off, groaning in pain a new level of fear emerged as the intruder crawled on top of me holding a kitchen knife to my throat. His words fell on deaf ears as I left out an ugly sob.

Sharp pain entered my chest. The knife in the vile excuse for a human hand was covered in blood. My breathing sounded wet as I tasted blood in my mouth, my lung was punctured.

I was unable to fight from lack of air as my pants were violently torn from my body. Both my wrist trapped in one of the creatures above my head as he roughly entered me. My gasp from pain caused blood to spatter on his face earning another slap to my face.

########

Soon enough I was alone, breathing blood into my lungs wondering how this happened.

Gazing up at the ceiling a face appeared. The face of an angel. Pale, unblemished skin, piercing onyx eyes and the most curious hair of bronze. Is this my angel? He looks so sad. My angel, especially one as perfect as him should not feel such sorrow that is written all over his face.

My angel is speaking to me, murmuring words to me that sound foggy. Almost like we are both underwater.

Are we under water? Is that why I feel so cold? No wonder why I can't breathe.

I want to touch my angels face. My hand is so heavy I can't move.

Oh, my angel is so kind he's holding my heavy hand to his face. I can't feel his face. Is that my hand touching him?

My angel moved his head and kissed the palm of the hand that touches his face, and then leaned down and placed his warm lips on my forehead before moving to the side of my neck.

He's saying more watery words in my ear. Is this the language of the angels?

My vision is so blurry. Did my angel just kiss the inside of my wrists?

I've must have done something wonderful to be in his warm arms.

So tired. I want to say here in my angels arms forever.

Forever.

There will be another chapter of two. Please review.