This the last time I thought to myself whilst driving home. The rain hammered the windshield making it hard to see where I was going as I sped away from the empty house, down the long winding drive, out onto the empty freeway.
2 Months Earlier
"You don't want me?"
"No."
"This is the last time you'll ever see me. I won't come back, and you can go on with your life without any interference from me. It'll be like I never existed, I promise."
My eyes burnt as I recalled that conversation, the final conversation.
The last conversation I would ever have with Edward Cullen.
The plan played itself over and over again in my head, making it hard to focus on the already slippy roads. I looked away from the road to the hole left in my dashboard, the edges rugged and raw from where I had fought with the stereo to remove it from the truck.
"I think it makes quite an interesting metaphor" I said to myself, completely aware that if anyone was to be listening to me right now, they would come to the correct conclusion that I was absolutely insane. My eyes flicked back to the road and what I saw there almost stopped my heart. Oh the irony, I thought to myself.
A pale man dressed entirely in black was stood in the middle of the road, even from here I could see the red irises of his eyes. Out of instinct I started to swerve, very much aware that if I hit that man, he would most definitely be the one to walk out of it alive, however I thought it only polite to at least try and not hit him.
I heard the glass smash before I saw the metal bending in slow motion around a large tree.
I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides, if you turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree trunk, you can probably just walk away.
I found it very ironic that my own words would come back to haunt me at this time.
Then it went black.