A/N and disclaimer:
This is my first time ever writing a Twilight fanfic. I've done some other fanfiction and some original work but I've decided to continue the lovely works of Stephenie Meyers through anothers eyes. I enjoy constructive criticism and hope to read plenty of reviews for that is the only reason for me to want the world to see the stories I keep near and dear to my heart. So with that said I need not to remind most of you that I do not own any original "Twilight Saga" characters or their past plots, however all new characters are of my own imagination and that is where they will stay until I tell their stories for you. Hope you enjoy. I know its short but most prologues are.
Prologue
I could feel the ice burn me. The intense cold that seemed to freeze my very veins as it also burned me alive. Sweeping through me like a plague. It was like the ice age was happening inside my organs. It was cold to the point of feeling like fire was ablaze in my very soul. I screamed, I bucked, I thrashed. At least I think I did. I wasn't sure what was reality and what was my imagination playing tricks on me. What had I done to deserve this hell? Was love really worth this. That's the only concrete thought I could process. Did I truly love him to much. Did I honestly love him to the brink of death. For I was certain I was dying or already dead. That was the only thing certain. It just seemed to bizarre to be dead or dying because the ice storm was still continuing and I should have stopped feeling days ago.
After all no one could survive the wound I inflicted onto myself. Yet hear I was suspended in this atmosphere of pain and ice. Burning, cold ice. It was everywhere. I was it's prisoner. I only loved him. I only cared enough to not be able to live without him. He was my destiny. My fate. My soul. Now the burning passion I felt for him burned me for real. If loving him was what brought this on then should I have loved him at all?
Just when the fire ice peaked and I thought this was it. This was the end. And I was going to die, I heard him. I could feel his burning hand cool my even hotter arm. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be dead to. He was supposed to live. The world could not turn without his beauty and kindness.
"Everything will be alright Gracie." He rubbed my arm with the lightest touch that still felt like a hundred pounds.
It wouldn't be alright as long as he was dead. And with that, it stopped. Everything stopped the fire ice, the pain, my heart. It all stopped. I was dead.
Or at least that's what I thought.
"Open your eyes."