The Death of Edward
I ran through the forest, sprinting. My heart felt like a heavy black rock—just like me. I couldn't forget the look of Bella's face as I shoved her away. She looked so dejected, so miserable. I cried in agony, crying tearless sobs as I reached my home. How could I make her suffer so much? And that crazy girl actually believed that I didn't want her. How could she? After all the times I've told her I loved her? After all the hugs and kisses I've given her? How could she possibly believe that? I have to go, I thought miserably. Before I could change my mind and run back to Bella's home, I flung open my car door, almost breaking it, and flew in.
I stuffed my keys into the engine, twisting it jerkily. Then I sped away.
You need her, I argued with myself. No! I yelled back at myself. Don't you see the damage you've already done? Can't you see how much pain you've caused her? What if you got closer to her? How could you do that? I couldn't get her suffering figure out of my mind. Her face was white, it was almost as pallid as my own. I could smell her tears even after I left. I hated myself.
It's your own fault for getting attached to her, I accused myself. You have no one else to blame. And now you've gone and hurt her, too. You don't deserve to live. You should go die.
I kept going, speeding away from Bella, and away from her. She can live with Mike Newton, or someone like him, I argued with myself. At least she won't be in love with a mythical creature that's NOT SUPPESED TO EXIST.
My chest was going to burst. I was already falling apart, two minutes after I left her. How was I going to survive? I couldn't. The next chance I get, I'm going to die. I just hoped that wouldn't hurt Bella, poor, sweet, loving, adorable, Bella. I hate myself, I thought. I really didn't deserve to live.