A/N: I believe this is where I tell you Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse, all belong to Stephenie Meyer.


"She'd been within reach of everything she wanted when her human life was cut short." --Bella Swan

There is but one thought that still lingers within the midst of the air tonight.
Never regret having asked for something, for at one time you truly wanted it.

Those deep words contained a fake, useless anesthetic when it lay on the same lines as Rosalie Hale.

The fairy tale prince had finally come - come to make her a princess.
And Royce seemed to be everything she'd ever dreamed of.
He would offer her everything she would ever want. And there was no way she thought she wouldn't get anything she wanted.
The Great Depression remained a troublesome rumor for her.
She would receive the wealth and riches that beautified her life, making her luckier than any other girl.

Or so she thought.
As she looked upon herself for the first time since her change, she could now see how her beauty had cursed her; brought her to this demonic world.
She wanted nothing more than to strip herself of this nightmare and prove them wrong.
He was lying to her. She wasn't a vampire. She was alive, and she could go back.
Her family awaited her, and would be ecstatic of her arrival home.
If only she could believe the hypocrite in her, hoping the bright, red eyes that stared back at her would belie his words, disproving his statements about vampires.

Her mind seemed to taunt her with images of her life were she normal. Like Vera.
A young, baby Henry managed to captivate her senses, bringing out the joy of a chaste life.
She yearned for a baby boy that would exemplify the same loveliness he did.
The sadness lingered through the dim-lit room as she remembered her friend whom she was truly jealous of.

She wished her beauty against her, wished for a life filled with pure love and innocence.
She wished for a husband that would greet her when he came home from work, a dear soul that would love her, give her affection and attention.
She wanted to hear her mother boast and her father brag, just to confirm that her heart was still beating.
She hoped to hear from Vera, just to reassure herself that she still indeed, was wealthier than any other girl.

This newfound jealousy punctuated her heart, corrupted her mind, and belied her soul.
There was nothing she wanted more than to relapse in the times when happiness was seconds away.
Shameful how desperately she clung onto those last bit of memories she could afford.
And shameful it was how those memories all revolved around her hypocrisy and jealousy of an unfulfilled life.

The want to shed the tears that remained unfaithful, never leaving her eyes, never leaving her soul, reminded her of the true monster she had become.
The massive drops of water remained a part of her secrets, untold, unheard of.
Yet through it all, she remained beautiful.

She would never encompass the life Vera lead, for she would never again have one.
She would never bear children; never have a baby with dimples, and curly, black hair.
She would go on with her existence, become a mere shadow among the light of the earth.
She would be alone.

And this thought in its entirety, brought her down to her knees, sending the worst of shivers through her skin, bleakness overshadowing all of the happiness she ever knew.
The hard, pale skin that now claimed her identity would forever bar her from the life she so desperately clung onto.
The pangs of jealousy would always berate her, force her heart to become bitter.
The sharp contrasts between human and vampire daunted her, for she would always continue to yearn for what was so suddenly taken from her.

And even now, as she glared at the monster behind the glass, she still held onto her resistance tenaciously, desperately demanding.
For in the end she lost the most important thing she had ever wanted: life.
And she didn't even think it was such a large thing to ask for.


"If we had happy endings, we'd all be under gravestones now." –Rosalie Hale