You can't change what has been said.
You can't change a past event.
You can't change what has been done.

(Catherine Pulsifer)

The Runaway

Chapter 1: In the Beginning

I let my hand trail down her side, memorising the soft curves. She brought her lips back to mine, releasing a soft moan into my mouth. I went to pull away for air; she got the wrong idea.

"Please Anthony," she sobbed, her tears from only minutes ago still fresh on her face.

Her whispered plea brought back the memories, brought me back to the beginning; how everything started. This beautiful girl was far too perfect and in far too much pain already to be associating with the likes of me.

"Bella..." I said softly, pushing her back, knowing after what I was about to tell her, she'd want to be as far away from me as possible.

"Fuck…" I groaned miserably as readied myself for what I was about to do, disregarding any consequences which may come of my actions; fuck knows I know how dee the consequences of ones actions can run.

I reached into my pocket pulling out the folded paper that was always on my person, opening it and laying it in front of her, watching her befuddled expression as she read it over.

Mum and Dad,

I'm so sorry for everything I've done. You didn't deserve anything I thrust upon you and I hope you will never know how it feels to have this much regret about your actions. I never meant for this to happen, and though you may not want to hear it, please believe me when I say it was an accident… no one deserves what he got.

I know you will never be able to forgive me for what I've done, and I understand that. Really I do. Please be safe, forget me and don't let the consequences of my actions ruin you .

As for me, I'm safe and well fed, but I cant say I'm happy - I don't deserve that anyway.

If I ever gather the courage to send this it will never truly convey just how sorry I am, nothing can.

I've seen my name in the paper, it has to be changed, I'm sorry for that too.

With all the love I possess,

Edward.

I waited for her to finish, listening to her even breaths and watching as her eyes flickered across the page. Her small button nose crinkling as she progressed, her confusion growing. She raised her dark eyes to meet mine, full of confusion as she finished the letter.

I sighed again as I reached into my pocket once more and seized the second, more crumpled piece of paper, then laid it before her. I held my breath as she read through the small article, praying recognition would either not hit at all, or hit fast. No such luck.

"What is this?" she asked in confusion as she handed me back the small pieces of paper; small in size, yet monumental in the way my life had been shaped by them.

"Fuck fuck fuck-" I chanted as I resignedly laid the article back before her, pointing to the name that was screaming from the page, haunting me.

She still look confused, and I grew frustrated. " What, Anthony? Just tell me! Why are you being so cryptic?"

I knew what I had to do, she would hate me, but no more than I hated myself already.

I sighed deeply before carrying on, shifting my position to avoid her gaze, staring into the burning fire, "I think it's about time I told you about my past…." I trailed off, closing my eyes as the flames danced before me, scattering my thoughts.

"My real name is Edward Cullen."

There was a pregnant pause before she gasped in recognition; in horror…

***

I watched the blood seep from the wound in his temple, the wound I had inflicted. Fuck! What the fuck had I done? I hadn't hit him that hard, had I?

I let my fist drop to my side, trying to ignore the dull ache that spread through my knuckles as I flexed my fingers, methodically opening and closing, as they did in the movies, but this wasn't a scene, and that sure as hell wasn't fake blood that created the black halo that framed his head.

I took a closer look at the figure sprawled below me. His closed eyes, pallid complexion and greying blonde hair (now matted with blood) was far less threatening than his demeanour when I had first encountered him. His long black trench coat, however, seemed rather fitting for the situation – shady. It covered the crisp white linen shirt that now had a crimson stain along the collar, the stain slowly growing.

The blood continued to pool around him, and really there shouldn't have been that much blood, I hadn't hit him that hard. It was as I watched the blood continue to collect around his head –from under his head, as well as his temple - that I realised he had fallen on a bottle.

"Fucking perfect!" I growled, anger lacing the panic.

When he didn't respond to my loud exclamation I stepped towards him, increasingly worried. I kicked a loose stone on the floor, clattering loudly against the alley wall. I heard a soft sob as the sound echoed in the stillness. I stopped in my tracks, my eyes darting to the figure there.

A girl. The girl!

She was still frozen in the position I had found them in – arms held in front of her, shirt ripped, mouth open in a now silent scream, tears still streaking down her pink cheeks – the only difference was that the body that had obscured her before was now lying at my feet.

I raised my hands, palms towards her, shocked as I felt warm liquid trickle from my knuckles to my wrist; unsure if it was my own blood or that of the would be rapist.

'I… I won't hurt you, I promise," I whispered into the stagnant silence, taking a step towards her to check if she was hurt at all. She moved then, stumbling away from me, pushing herself further into the brick wall behind her.

She was scared of me.

I couldn't blame her.

I took out my phone, quickly dialling the only person who could help.

"Edward! Glad you called, your mum wants flour as well-"

"Dad…" I choked, surprised by the sob that broke in my voice. "Dad I…" I couldn't carry on as a shard, terrified shudder ripped though my body/

"Edward!? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What's happened? Where are you-" He blurted out his questions, not giving me a chance to answer. I heard the door slam behind him as he ran out of the house.

"Dad…" I said again, cutting him off," I-I hit him, dad! He's bleeding… So much blood… I don't know if she's hurt, she's scared. So am I, dad," my voice trailing off as I dropped to my knees beside my victims limp form, blood soaking my jeans.

"Blood? What? Edward you're making no sense! Where are you?" he asked again, panicked.

"Down the alley, behind the supermarket… She screamed, and he was there, holding her… touching her… I couldn't just walk away!" I sobbed, dropping the phone into the almost black liquid that surrounded me, the disruption causing tiny droplets of blood to splatter across my chest. I dropped my face into my bloody palms, smearing my cheeks in the warm liquid.

I heard the girl sob softly again and looked up to see her eyes trained on the man who had intended to rape her. He hadn't moved since I had hit him, not a breath heard over my own harsh gasps. I couldn't see whether she was glad for my assistance or even more scared now than she had been before.

I went to lean over him, to check for a pulse, a breath, any sign of life! Anything to show me he was alive, anything to prove I wasn't a murderer.

I heard quick footsteps around the corner and sat back on my heels, glancing over my shoulder to see my father sprinting around the corner.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the scene that greeted him.

"Edward!" he gasped, falling to his knees beside me, "Son, are you okay?"

How could he be trying to tend to me as the man before me lay still? I was fine.

When I didn't respond he looked to the girl by the wall, jumped to his feet and approached her, palms raised in the same way mine had been previously. Taking a look at her, she had to be no more than fifteen, if that. Her sandy hair fell in ruffled ringlets to her shoulders and her sky blue eyes were still wide with shock. He checked her for injuries, seeming oblivious to her aversion to his touch.

"Edward…" He started when he saw she was fine, stepping tentatively towards me, as if scared I would flee. It should be the opposite way round - I was the murderer!

Oh my God. I was a murderer.

Awareness trickled like acid through my veins. My head throbbed with it, my eyes grew cloudy and my heart thumped painfully behind my ribs - I had killed someone, I was a murderer.

I recoiled from my father as he continued to step towards me, sitting on my murdering ass and wrapping my murdering arms around my murdering knees.

"Edward it's going to be okay… You did nothing wrong, they'll see that."

Crap. I was going to prison, no matter what happened. 'They' wouldn't give a shit whether I was innocent or guilty, in this inconsequential town 'they' would love a bit of gossip, 'they' would love to see the Cullen's fall from grace, love to see the rich lawyers son put away for murder.

I wouldn't go to jail. I wouldn't shame my father like that.

I crawled away from his offered hand.

"Edward please," he whispered, his voice cracking, "I won't let them take you," he stepped closer as I jumped to my feet, quickening my retreat, "Please Edward, stay." His eyes now brimming with tears.

My own tears spilled over as I looked at his face, perhaps for the last time, despising that the last expression I would see there was this broken, pleading stare.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, unsure as to whom I was talking, my father, the girl, or the broken man on the floor.

"So sorry…" I repeated as I turned on my heels and ran into the darkness of the alley, ignoring my fathers' plea for my return.

I concentrated on the soft thud of every footfall, my feet leading me to my destination, trying to keep the agonising guilt at bay.

I only intended to go home to get my car keys, then make my hasty escape. But for a murderer things are never quite that simple. As soon as I was through the door my mother was there, looking completely panicked as she took in my blood smeared body.

"Edward! Edward, oh dear Lord! You're covered in blood! Are you okay? What happened?" she shrieked, taking quick steps towards me.

"I'm so sorry, mum," was my only reply as I turned to leave, grabbing my keys off their hook. I went to close the door behind me before my irrational 'mamas boy' needs overcame me and I rushed back to her, wrapping my arms around her in a desperate hug and whispering fiercely in her ear, "I love you, mum, please, please, remember that, no matter what you think of me after today, remember that I love you. And dad, tell him I love him too. I'm so sorry for what I've done to this family."

With that, I planted a hasty kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a bloody smear that made me despise myself all the more.

"Edward, honey, please, you're scaring me, tell me what's going on! Where's your father?"

I stepped away from her - tears streaming down my cheeks – and ran for the door, hitting the automatic lock release on my key, flinging the door of my Volvo open and jumping into my car, sparing one last fleeting glance out the rear-view mirror at the white mansion that was my home, until I rounded the corner and the sight was replaced by the dark trees of the enclosing woods.

I hit the accelerator and sped into the night.

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