I had a good life here, with the Cullens. Esme and Carlisle were like parents and loved me, not like my real parents, who only loved me for my looks, and Edward was like the lonely, desolate brother I never had. Yet I was never happy. The last memories of my human life still swirled around in my mind, terrifying me, capturing me in a web of pain. The only thing I wanted was revenge, yet I couldn't steal myself to go after him. For all that he and his friends had done, I knew, somewhere inside me, that Royce must have loved me. At least a small amount.

I walked down into the kitchen that no one actually used in the house, sitting down at the table and opening up the newspaper. As I was unfolding the front page, a smaller section fell out onto the floor. I bent down and picked it up, not really caring. And then the title caught my eye. Obituaries- Rosalie Lillian Hale. I unfolded it, looking first at the last picture that was ever taken of me, printed in black and white on the paper. Underneath was my name, my age, the year I was born, and the date the Royce and his friends had come after me in the alley. I gritted my teeth and began to read slowly, looking at the false words of love and concern from my parents, and the devastation of my siblings.

And then I reached the part that Royce had supplied. It read, "I am so devastated that my beautiful fiancé is dead. The pain that I feel can be matched by no man, living or dead. I will never love another woman as much as I loved Rosalie. I will always hold her in the closest place to my heart and never forget her. If I ever find who or what did this to my Rose, I will hunt them down."

I stared, shocked, at the lies he had told, the false love that poured from the words. I ripped the paper in half, sending it flying to the ground. The rest of the family turned to face me, their faces all identical masks of concern, although Edward's was more annoyed then the others.

"Rosalie, what's wrong?" Carlisle spoke softly to me.

"Nothing. Everything is fine." My voice sounded high and panicky as I stood, knocking over my chair in my haste to get to my room. I raced up the stairs, my grip tight on the hand railing. I dashed into my room, throwing myself gently onto the couch, trying not to break it. I sobbed tearlessly into the pillow for what felt like hours, letting all of the pain and frustration pour out of my body and into the sobs that racked my body. I lay there for a while after the tears had stopped, controlling myself, letting the pain slip away. Slowly but surely, the pain left, only to be replaced by a burning anger in my body.

I leapt to my feet, walking over to my expansive closet. Reaching into its depths, I pulled out the pink dress I had been wearing that night that Esme had kindly repaired for me, removing the dried blood. Even though I had been touched by her kindness, I had never worn it again, as the memories that accompanied it were too horrible. But now I slipped it on over my head, the soft fabric feeling itchy and hot against my skin. I slowly pulled a coat that looked alike to the one that Royce had given me and fastened the buttons, smiling coldly, envisioning their expressions. I then slipped on a pair of pink heels and did my hair the way that it had been done that night to the best of my recollections, fastening a pearl necklace around my neck and a pair of pearl drop earrings in my ears.

I walked over to my large window, smiling coldly as I jumped out onto the large lawn, running away into the busy city I used to live in. I kept my head down and held my breath as I walked the streets, terrified that someone would recognize me or I would kill someone, not being able to resist the pull for human blood. I had never slipped, and was not about to do so now to the people I grew up with.

I stopped first at the door of Charlie, one of Royce's less enthusiastic followers and the only one I know the address and name of. Yet he had done the same that all of them had, and he would pay. I knocked softly on the door, and waited for someone to open it. A young woman I assumed to be his wife walked over and opened the door. She looked surprised when she first saw me, most likely shocked at my beauty. Unlike when I was human, I felt no rush of satisfaction from this, and it steeled me. I was not the woman I once was. I smiled sweetly at her, trying not to think of her reaction when her husband died. "May I please see Charlie?" I inquired politely.

"Oh, oh, yes, of course!" The women blustered, leaning back into the house and calling for her husband. She returned to face me, her eyes steely. She most likely thought I was a secret girlfriend of his, but was too scared or shy to say so. "He will be right out." The door was slammed in my face, and I waited for the man I was after to step outside.

As I heard Charlie walk to the door, I assumed the stance that I had been in when I first sighted the, clasping my hands in front of me, and tilting my head like I was higher than they were. I grinned inside as he stepped out; shock on his face at what such a beautiful woman could be doing on his doorstep.

"M-may I help you?" He stammered, gasping for breath.

I tilted my head down and smiled an evil grin. "Yes, yes you can." I murmured seductively, trailing a snow white finger down his throat, stopping at his chest. "You can stay still and not say a word." I laughed inwardly as recognition and fear flashed on his face.

"But I thought we killed you!" His voice was breathless with fear. He stumbled backwards, trying to get to the door. My hand tightened around his neck gently, stopping him and leaving him gasping for air.

I dropped the pretty lady façade, my eyes narrowing. "You did kill me." I tightened my grip. "And I came back from the dead to do the same to you." I smiled thinly and jerked my wrist to the right, breaking his neck. I let his lifeless body fall to the ground and ran from the empty street, desperate to get back to the house before the screams started.