Important, read:

Hi everyone! As you may have noticed, in many stories people like to pick on Rosalie and portray her as an empty headed dolt who hates Bella and only cares about makeup. Well, I got pretty tired of this, since, in my opinion, Rosalie is NOT a bad person, and tries her best to like Bella. So I decided to write a story from her point of view, just about her life in general. Enjoy!

RosePOV:

I lay on the ground, feeling the cold hard cobblestones pressing into my cheek and neck and back. Tears ran down my face and mingled with the growing pool of blood surrounding me. Death was my only wish, yet it seemed that the only thing that I hadn't been robbed of in the past hour was life. So while I'm here, let me tell you a little bit about myself.

My name is Rosalie Hale. People have often assumed that I have everything a girl could want: I'm rich, beautiful, from a well known family…. But I couldn't have been more miserable.

You see, my father had always wanted a son. I was born a girl, and he despised me for it. He even beat me, and beat my mother for not bearing him a son. Rarely did he talk to me, and he refused to pay for my education or anything of the sort. Slowly, I began to think of my beauty as my world, since it was the only good thing left in my life. I would spend hours in front of the mirror, simply staring at my beautiful hair and face and body.

But that was when I was young. As I grew older, I realized that I could use my beauty to get me things. By the time I was fifteen, I had acquired quite a bit of money by performing favors for men.

But I didn't want money. I didn't want a huge house and servants and a billion formal parties to attend. No, I didn't want any of that. All I wanted was a family, a family who loved and cared for me. I wanted a husband who loved me for who I was and not my beauty, I wanted children that I could raise without knowing pain or despair or anger. But I admit that lately I have become a little vain, and now I rarely think about those things that I want so much.

How did I get here, you might ask? It is a bit unusual for a girl like me to be lying bleeding at a street corner. Well, it's more than a bit unusual; it's very unusual. Well, here's how it happened:

I was walking home when I noticed some drunken men and boys outside a tavern. They were singing loudly and whistled when I walked by, so I pulled my cloak over my face and walked faster. And then suddenly I noticed a familiar face among the crowd; it was my husband-to-be. He ran across the street and pulled me toward himself and his friends… and you can probably guess the rest.

So that's my story, or at least as much as I can tell you under the circumstances. Oh, how my head hurts! (Not to mention my heart…) I just want my life to end already. Why must I cling to life so?

But wait! Someone's coming towards me. Feebly I try to raise my head, praying that they've come to help. The person sees me and swiftly heads in my direction. I can see him clearly now; he is a man, and probably the most gorgeous being on this entire earth. He has perfect blonde hair glowing butterscotch eyes. He picks me up, and I am suddenly sure that I have died because we are flying, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until everything around us becomes a blur. I want to reach up and touch his face; he is so perfect that I'm not sure if he is real.

My arm burns as I try to lift it. I am slightly disappointed. I thought that death would take away the pain, but alas, with my luck I'm probably doomed to suffer eternally….

After a couple minutes the man (angel?) comes to a stop in front of a simple yet large estate set at the bottom of a large, tree-covered hill. The man takes me inside. The furniture is simple yet expensive, but I don't get a good look at it because I'm whisked into another room with only a large metal table and some medical instruments. I boy, about my age, and a woman are already there.

"Rosalie Hale?" The boy stared at me with obvious contempt. "Carlisle, what were you thinking?"

"Relax, Edward." The man remained calm and collected. "She was bleeding by the side of the road; I couldn't just leave her there, could I?"

Carlisle, Edward… I thought. What nice names!

The man called Carlisle began speaking again, his tone suddenly harsh. "We have to do this quickly. Esme, come and hold her down."

The woman, Esme, came over and pinned me down to the hard table, her grip surprisingly strong and icy. My stomach did a flip and a panicky fog began to take over my mind.

"Hold me down…. What… Why…. OH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?"

Carlisle bends down and bites through the delicate skin over my wrists and ankles. His teeth feel like daggers of ice. I scream. Suddenly I'm on fire, blood burning through my veins like acid. Screams pour out of my mouth, and I'm sure now that I haven't died, because death wouldn't bring this kind of pain, not even in hell.

I stay like this for a while, screaming and writhing until, at some point, I realize that screaming won't make the pain go away. With great effort, I shut my mouth, suffering silently, as I wish fervently for death.

I'm not exactly sure how long it takes for the fire to leave my body. I sit up, relieved. Looking around, I realize that the only person in the room is the boy, Edward.

"Am I… am I dead?"

Edward looks slightly amused. "No, Rosalie Hale, you're not dead." He snarls slightly as he says my name, then the laughter returns to his voice. "Go take a look in the mirror."

Slowly, I shake myself and stand up, my muscles aching. I feel… it is hard to describe what I feel. I feel strong, cold, hard…. indestructible. But most of all I feel thirsty.

When I reach the mirror I gasp. "My eyes," I whisper. "They're red!"

"Yes, Rosalie Hale, your eyes are red."

Why does he call me by my full name like that? I wonder. Shrugging, I continue to examine myself. The sight is rather shocking. Now I know I was beautiful before, but now I am very likely the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. My hair has become slightly curlier and the color has deepened slightly. It falls perfectly down my back, tapering down in a perfect triangle. My curves are rounder; my hips have widened and my breasts grown. My cheekbones are now more prominent, my nose pointier, and my eyes set deeper.

"I'm beautiful," I say quietly. "I'm beautiful."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward give me an exasperated glare. Suddenly I realize why he hates me so. He thins I'm stupid and shallow, only caring about material things.

"I had a hard life, you know," I snarl, loving the fierceness of my voice. "A lot harder than yours."

And with that, I storm angrily from the room, running straight into Carlisle.

"So good to see you on your feet, Rosalie," He says, grinning. "I have so much to tell you."

Suddenly I feel overwhelmingly thirsty. "May I have a glass of water, please?" I ask politely.

Carlisle gives me a dark look. "It's not water you need," he muttered. Then he adds, more to himself then to me, "Lord, I hope she takes this well."