Okay, here we go again. First, I'm going to say what this is. Here's the information about it I wrote for my last version of this:
"I wrote this forever ago on some note paper and lost it (grr), but was then ecstatic when I found it again. As for what it actually is? Okay, we all know what Midnight Sun is, right? Well, for those of us who don't, it is Twilight from Edward's perspective. Not totally sure when Midnight Sun is supposed to come out. Anyway, I got this idea from a friend of mine - same friend I got my other Edward fanfic idea from. It's my version of the prologue to Midnight Sun. It's not long. Nothing I write on note paper is ever long. Anyway, Stephenie Meyer's prologue's are always a brief feeling from the protagonist's perspective right at the climax. So, this is what Edward's thinking at the climax of Twilight/Midnight Sun."
Here's the update: I rewrote it on the computer. Things I write on notebook paper, as said above, are never long, so I rewrote it to add more feelings to it, and not feel subconscious about the length. I hope it's better. In this case, I feel that longer is better. Let me know what you think.
A huge wave swept over me, a greater wave than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams. The emotion seeped fro my fingertips to every bone in my body. It took every nerve in my body to keep my head from going insane with these raw feelings blasting like a screaming fireball throughout my being.
Desire. Lust. Temptation. I turned away from it with all my heart. I'd learned to ignore it in the past. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done not to give in, not to taste the sweet thing I'd smelled for these long, long months. But now, with the substance of it scattered all around me, glimmering and shining, it took every fiber of my soul, everything I'd taught myself up to now, not to give in like the monster I was inside.
The unbearably unnerving temptation was nothing compared to the burning, flaming hatred for my deadly foe that burned like the sun's blaring heat. It had me wanting to rip him apart, scream in fury, hurt – but it was only even there because of the threat he imposed.
Above it all, above the horror of the scene before me, above the fury, above the lust, was the love. I had seen love, I had seen it in my siblings. They loved. I thought I had known what it was. I hadn't. Not back then. The overwhelming presence of my own love never failed to astonish me. Her absolute exquisiteness was impelling, and it took all the power in me every day not to take in my arms and crush her delicate, frail person. I never took her beauty for granted, she never just blended into the scenery. She had evoked this incredibly indescribable feeling throughout me, deep down to my long-since-beating heart. And the love's existence was being endangered.
For just one second, one bare moment, the hate threatened to overcome my love, to be more powerful. It wasn't. Nothing was that powerful. Nothing in the world – not my burning desire to rip his throat out and crush his head in my hands, not my natural instinct to feeling the soft pulsing of the sweetest taste I could ever imagine sliding down my throat, not any fear or will to survive – came anywhere close to being that powerful.
His soulless form was hunched over her beauteous and still one. Without even thinking, I knew I had to destroy his being, tear him limb from ungodly limb, until he was nothing more than a horrible and gruesome memory, and I had to do it quickly. The sooner he was gone, the sooner my very reason for living was safe.
A hideous growl escaped my lips, and at that self-same instant a piercing scream drowned out the growl of the fight.