Royce,
I laugh now to think of you.
I laugh to remember how grand you always seemed.
How heroic.
How handsome.
How rich.
How…dead.
I do recall you, though, with what remains of my human mind: your statuesque figure, your strong chin, the thick dark hair that waved so elegantly atop your head. You were, if anything, the perfect match for me. As handsome as I was beautiful, as strong as I was graceful, as manly as I was womanly, you were my perfect equal.
I still remember the roses you sent me, and the violets, and I remember very, very well how still grotesquely inattentive you were to my actual thoughts compared to my face, my body. Still, I thought with hope, somewhere deep down inside, that you loved me, with, when beauty and riches faded away, you would still wish to speak with me, not to me. I wanted to be like Vera, but more. I wanted you to be more.
I have grown from then. I understand that I was nothing more than a naïve girl, who's best friend was a mirror and who fed on compliments.
Fortunately, though, I am now more beautiful than ever, more graceful, more perfect. Fortunately, I have found my true equal. Stronger, faster, more handsome, and even, ironically, more lethal than you.
His name is Emmett.
Darling, I say now, in hindsight, I regret killing you all those years ago. Nothing now would please me more than to have you meet Emmett, to look him in the eye, to explain to him what damage you did, and then to see you torn to shreds.
You, silly, selfish man, are nothing more than the catalyst for my true life. As much as I loathe you (and I will, forever more, make no mistake) I do find that I must thank you for your actions.
Because you chose to sell me to your friends, because of your choices to put me forth, because you raped me and left me abandoned in the night, I would have never became what I am now. If I had never been found, never been changed, I would have never found Emmett. I would have spent the rest of my life in a miserable existence, pining for what I couldn't have, stuck in a dismal marriage to the swine of the Earth—you, your friends, and your job.
So, thank you, for being the disgusting being that you were. I truly lament your unfortunate mortality. If I had the choice, you would be alive now, suffering from now until eternity.
Sincerely, and with all of my beating heart: Love,
Rosalie Hale