This is a One-shot. Because I can.
She had learned to appreciate silence by the age of eighteen and a half. Her room became some kind of shrine where she could dwell on daily occurrences and the fact that she was feeling lonely. Abandonment tugged at her heart and drew out the inner beast she had, sleep evaded her for most of the nights and when she managed to fall asleep nightmares plagued her vision. The creatures that haunted her became more and more violent with each passing night. Dark circles marred her face, her eyes were constantly red-rimmed and hollow.
Femicide.
That single word written on the crime report was enough to pull her out of her everlasting reverie one afternoon while she cooked dinner for herself and her father. Charlie was studying this new case with great interest; the Police Department was bewildered by it to say the least. Never in the twenty-something years Charlie had worked as a police officer had he hear of such a horrendous crime in this small town. Major crimes were almost unheard of here, only big cities had that type of problems.
A twenty-nine-year-old woman (name classified) had been last seen two days ago walking from work to the grocery store. She had been wearing a grey suit, black stockings and high heels. Her family had reported her disappearance after searching the whole neighborhood and the surrounding buildings. Her coworkers had searched through every 24-hour establishment but hadn't found a single clue of her whereabouts.
Twenty for hours later her ex-boyfriend had turned-up to the Police Station holding a bloody knife and the key to his apartment. He confessed. Mad by jealousy, he had decided that no other could share her love and murdered her. The photographer had done an excellent job covering the crime scene, blood covered every surface of the tiny bedroom and signs of violence were everywhere. A shudder crept up her spine and horror filled her gut.
How cruel can a person be?
Cruel enough to murder his lover. Cruel enough to rip his soul and commit an unspeakable crime. Cruel enough to end another person's life and not care about the consequences.
The criminal was now being sent to a maximum-security prison and face a lifetime sentence.
That had pulled her head out of the gutter.
Silence filled her mind and the realization hit her.
She could have been her. Anyone could have been her.
Twenty-nine was way too young to die, that woman had been at the prime of her life. She will not experience a great deal of things and her opportunity to live had been cut short. She will not be able to walk down the beach and feel the cool breeze against her skin again. She'll never be able to watch herself grow old and grey, she will no longer be able to listen to her favorite bands or read a good book.
Thinking back, she realized how stupid she had been. Her eighteenth birthday was just the cherry on top of her grand stupidity. She had been willing to throw her life away and go to some random place to start afresh with her immortal family turning herself into a bloodthirsty monster just for that fun of it. In the past ten minutes, she had done more growing up that the whole past year.
She finally realized, she finally understood why Edward was so reluctant whenever she asked him to turn her. The name that had become almost a taboo flew out of its cage and left a bittersweet taste in her tongue. No hard feelings were held against any of them but it didn't mean that she missed them any less. She saw the reason behind it and was thankful for it.
She was way too young and to naïve to let her guard down just now. She was too trusting for her own good and had fallen head over heels with a brooding immortal who had been alone for a very long time. She realized, that she hadn't fallen in love with him, but her version of him. It would have been easier if they had become friends first, that way they could have at least known each other better before jumping head first into a relationship.
She quickly climbed the staircase and entered her room without a second thought. A package was placed on her bedside table, clearly it was a book wrapped in bright yellow paper with a big pink bow on top. Elegant penmanship wrote:
It is still too soon.
She kind of understood the message. She tore the wrapping paper and was pleasantly surprised by the title. The Metamorphosis by Kafka.
One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug. The first line was stunning.
She wouldn't stop reading for the rest of the evening and by the time she finishes the book, for the first time in months happiness overwhelms her.
One year later she will meet the person who sent her the book that day.
"Nice of to finally show up." She greets.
He grins back.