Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Prologue

I sat on my bed, gazing at the sharp edge of the blade.

"I'll have to do it this time," I told myself and then closed my eyes, thinking it'd help me gather the courage to do what I intended to- run the blade over my wrist.

"Just do it, you jerk!" I chided myself as I started shivering out of nervousness. "Do it now or you'll continue sitting like this for the whole night!"

I took a deep breath and brought the blade nearer.

Another second, a sharp cut and it'd be the end of everything for Edward Cullen…

I thought about myself, about the life I'd led and suddenly everything that I'd been through, every moment of jubilation and sorrow, delight and disgust flashed in front of me in a mighty blur..

A tear trickled down my cheek, many others followed. A mirror hanging on the wall opposite my bed showed how pathetic crying like that made me look.

Another breath, a deep sigh..

I tried mustering the courage again..

And then the thought struck me and I asked myself if it was really worth doing?

Will my committing suicide make any difference? And most of all, how the heck did I manage to pull myself into this messy situation?

How come a starry eyed boy, whose smile people would never be tired of complementing about, has suddenly found himself lying on his bed at mid-night, ready to slash his wrist with a blade?..

What about the claims of all those people who had prophesied, right since his childhood, about the impressive life that he'd make for himself?

Will he allow it all to come to such a hideous end?

I could no longer bear to see my irritating reflection in the mirror.

Filled with revulsion and disgust, I flung the blade aside.

I thought I should cry, howl, vent all the frustrations out..

But the tears won't flow any more..

I knew exactly what would bring solace.

I stood up, stretched my back and walked to the kitchen. I picked up an empty mug - my favourite one - filled it with water and poured it into the sauce pan. I waited until it was boiling hot to pour it into a cup. A tea bag followed and then sugar..

Here, in this tiny cup was my elixir, the answer to my anxieties..

A cup of tea..

I filtered it into the mug and squatted on the floor, inhaling its aroma.

I blew into the mug, took a noisy sip and thought about the promise I had made to myself the day my flight landed at Austin..

If only I'd stuck to it..

Reviews will make me happier than an alive Edward Cullen.