A/N: Hi all! This is my first story, so I would appreciate constructive criticism, and or any suggestions or ideas for the story! This is not a pre-written story so I will try to upload whenever inspiration hits. I have an outline for what I want to happen, but it's pretty vague and has lots of wiggle room. So let's see where this goes! Plx let me know if you want to read more :) Thanks for reading!

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, the characters and so forth.

-Prologue-

You were dead, and then suddenly as if the last hundred had been a dream-you sprung back into existence. Without reverence, I shot forward and embraced you, but memories never fully compare to reality. It lies in this plane between fantasy and reality, which your existence is entrapped. It is to my horror that I watch you a shell of yourself, yet I am unable and unwilling to let go-even if your soul is only a shadow of the man I knew.

-Chapter 1-

Pulling the sheets over my face, my hot breath was reflected back onto me. I barely registered how bad of an order my breath had become, nor the decay and the death that surrounded my being, ever since my soul was stolen from me. Taken by, him.

I involuntarily shuddered at even the thought of him. The pain was too great, it had swallowed me whole; my conscious refused to return deadlocked in analyzing repeatedly each moment we had spent together. Was it this, was it that? How had I not noticed the little signs? Was I truly that naive, that any chance at a love-story of the ages would entice me to miss the signs of falsehood? Had it been a dream all along?

My hand whipped forward and stroked the scar from James. Always cold to the touch, it was my only reminder that I indeed was not a psychotic naïve girl but instead truly just an unworthy being that was convinced for a second I, Bella Swan, the plain jane, would have truly deserving of such a being as him.

Again I shuddered, my mind going blank and I struggled to remember how to breathe. For a moment, I wondered how long it would take before the lack of oxygen would consume into blackness. Would it be painful to die, when I have nothing more to live for? Would pain even registered inside my nerves, when the only emotions I could feel were carving my organs to the same amount of mush, that an egg experiences when it is thrown from the empire state building? I decided it would not matter, but for Charlie I in took the air. The much-needed oxygen scorched my throat as it went down. As it burned, I suddenly decided as much as I loved Charlie, existing was not living. I was a dead girl from the instance the event occurred, I had only be feeding myself excuses to make it seem as if the breaths I took, and the tiny movements of my eyelids were all enough for things to proceed and quantify my livelihood. Alas, I understood now I had died long ago, it is only my physical remains that cease to have followed my mind. Following my heart I thought through each and every situation, I could imagine- would it be by pills? What about a car crash? How about a gun? Or perhaps, I could jump into the fierce waters of La Plush?

With sudden vigor, I sat up, too fast for my body to catch up and I found myself falling to the floor in a heap. The sound of my fall reverberating through the empty house- as Charlie had long ago given up on me, resolving instead of escape the tragic of my condition by fishing away his own tears. The irony was not lost on me, everything Charlie loved never stayed. It seems my father's luck, was also mind; except I could not wait as he had, my entire life before succumbing to the lose of love. Regaining my energy my focus entirely on getting to my truck, and letting my body float into oblivion in the waters of La Plush, except I never made it two feet before my body was encased in ice cold marble arms. As I faded under the weight of memories resurfacing of them, I had not failed to notice the singsong voice of hatred I had pushed out of my mind.