This is my take on what Edward thought after Carlisle has bitten Rosalie. It's a one-shot for now, but I might return to it if I get the urge. Enjoy!
What was he doing?
I couldn't believe that Carlisle had bitten her—Rosalie Hale.
I looked down at her face—reluctantly acknowledging her beauty even when her expression was crumpled in pain—and heard her chaotic thoughts. The only thing seeming to register in her mind was the burning fire that creeped at a leaden pace through her veins. Her blonde hair splayed across the pillow, tangled and matted. Tears flowed freely across her cheeks, and her teeth gritted against the agony.
This was just too much. I had my doubts when he changed Esme, but I saw that it turned out for the best. This time, though, I couldn't figure out what Carlisle was thinking—even with my capabilities. It was a waste? Yeah, and so were the thousands of lives lost every single day. But I didn't see him going around trying to "save" all those people.
I shook my head in disgust and left our small cabin in the woods. The air brought with it a sense of freedom as it coursed through my hair and against the skin concealed underneath my sweater. I raced faster, wanting the feeling to never end.
Eventually, I stopped to sit down on a fallen tree—its branches crumpled and rotting—and buried my face in my hands. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips as Carlisle's thoughts repeated themselves in my mind, echoing incessantly.
It was just too much…too much of a waste.
Yeah—a waste of space. I hadn't been in her company many times before, but the few times I had she certainly left an impression. Or at least her thoughts did.
Such self-importance was something I had encountered in very few people—and out of the handful of them, she definitely shined the brightest. I never caught a thought, or image, from her that didn't have her in center-stage, displaying her beauty.
She was even jealous of my family—Carlisle and me in particular—for our looks. If only she had known, she would have felt no envy whatsoever.
Well, she would know now.
If I was truthful with myself, though, I knew that I did feel bad for her—a small, seemingly non-existent part of me. I wished this on nobody. Not my worst enemy, Rosalie, or anyone. This existence was a curse, and now she would have to endure it for eternity, suffer through it forever.
I wondered how she would react. Would she take it in stride once she saw how she looked? Or would she hate herself for being a monster that wished to take the life of a human being simply by instinct?
If I were to bet on it, I would choose the former. The only facet of her personality I had witnessed was her apparent self-absorption. And it was undoubtedly her most prominent characteristic.
I couldn't be glad that her last moments as a human happened as they did, though, no matter how shallow she seemed. I loathed the pitiful excuse for a man who even considered such a vile act.
Rain splattering on my cheek interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up to the impeding storm clouds overhead. I hesitated, wondering whether I should just stay here or go home, but decided that Carlisle may somehow need my help. I did owe him for what he had done for me, I knew. No matter how much I might wish he hadn't helped me didn't change that.
I rose from my temporary bench and flew back towards the house—listening for the screams I knew were there. It wasn't long before I heard the high pitched, soprano shrieks.
I pushed myself even faster.
Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer. Nor will I ever be. I am just borrowing her characters, and promise to put them back when I'm done.
Like it? Hate it? Review and tell me!