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
