The characters I love so much will never be mine. But this story might...

For now, consider this a prologue. I only partially know the direction I want this to take but its different than anything I've done so far, so I'm in desperate need of your opinions.

The following was vomited after the loss of my dear friend and is dedicated to her memory.

Puddles (1980-2009) Rest in Peace.

In the Shadows by EclipsedbyJacob

I was fucking angry. Angry because she was taken so young, because she was taken from her husband, her children, her friends, without giving anyone a chance to say goodbye. Because I couldn't remember her as well as I should, because that part of my past was blocked and hazy.

I could remember long soft hair, deep wondering eyes, and a smile both shy and brilliant in the same breath. She was amazing, both as a person and as a friend, but I'd let that friendship fail somewhere along the way. Now I had nothing, nothing, but a handful of memories and the poison of guilt bubbling in my stomach. I should have tried harder to save it. I could have tried harder. I just gave up. I just let him have her and walked away without a fight. I hadn't let myself think of it for too long.

Now I would carry that burden with me to my final resting place. It was already eating my insides raw, tearing my soul to pieces and it had only been three days.

But, I'd loved her, after all.

I couldn't help but wonder if I would be able to sit there, and listen to her family, her real friends remember her in ways I could not. Would I be able to look at Jake and forgive him for the mistakes our youth, or would it be the same after all these years? After everything that had changed?

I shuddered to even imagine her children. If they looked anything like her, I'd lose it for sure. How would I be able to face the miniature doe eyes if they were the same rich chocolate as hers?

My face fell into my hands. Huge, bitter tasting tears rolled through my fingers. I choked on the sobs shaking through every molecule of my body. How would I ever go on knowing she was no longer in this world? She'd been the only thing keeping me going all these years. It would have been easy to swim through life looking at the despair in the bottom of a beer bottle or through the choking smoke of the next drug induced stupor, but I never let myself lose control, no matter how desperately I'd wanted to just roll over and die.

Bella had saved me every time I teetered on that edge before, but this would destroy me.

I cried harder because she didn't deserve any bitterness from me. She had never known how I felt. Nothing that happened was her fault. I would never blame her for my own stupidity. I couldn't even blame it on Jake anymore. He'd done nothing more than make the move I had been too afraid of. And he'd gotten the girl. That's how the world worked, right? Life didn't give things to those that waited for happiness to fall into their hands.

Numb arms slid through the sleeves of my solitary starched shirt. I couldn't feel my fingers as they wrestled with the buttons up my chest and at the cuffs. It itched against my skin, but I didn't bother to scratch. The discomfort was the only thing that felt real. Nothing would be this real again.

I fumbled as I tried to get the knot perfect in my tie. The black silk slid too quickly through my sweating fingers. Tear stains spotted its entire length by the time I had it done. I gave up on looking decent, leaving my entire wardrobe skewed and hanging limply from my shoulders. It was the way I felt. It was too hard to think of the last time I'd worn a tie. Bella had made the loops and pulled it tightly to my neck. Her delicate fingers had smoothed down the collar expertly. But it wouldn't do me any good to dwell on that night.

I focused instead on her face as I walked blindly from my door and down the street to my Volvo. I remembered Bella from age thirteen to twenty nine. (Well, twenty eight, today would have been her birthday but that little detail was too much.) Bella with glasses and braces, losing her plump cheeks of childhood, maturing before my eyes, turning into a beautiful woman. I saw every face she wore, yet could barely recall specific times we were together. I only saw her for so long that I had glanced over a huge part of my life. Not missed, though. Never missed when it was given to her. I wanted her to have every menial detail of every day, but I never told her, so I never had her, and it was fruitless even thinking about it.

The Volvo sped around a corner. The church was at the end of the road, set high on a hill. It was a comforting sight, but made the tears fall harder. I didn't think I was going to be able to get through this day. My heart panged an echo of anguish in acknowledgment.

I parked my car, mind drifting, floating, aware, but unaware. I rested a flat palm on the whitewashed wooden door. The smell of summer flowers flooded my senses, strangling me further. I looked and saw a hanging basket full of blooming flowers. Freesia. Of course.

I didn't even bother to wipe the tears away before opening the door. They rolled in rivers down my face, onto my collar, my shirt. I couldn't care. My grief was unbearable. I would never be able to walk this world without her in it. The pain was too much.

Then my eyes met his: black, miserable, swimming in his own anguish. Jake saw me at the same moment. I watched his own tears streaming from those eyes, dripping off his dark skin with the same chaotic trails as mine. For a moment, he just stared, then the familiar gleam of anger flashed through him, and he was moving.

Blind and confused in my grief, I only saw him. His feet stomping against the hardwood floors was the only sound my ears heard. All six feet six inches of Jacob Black bore down on me, rage mixing with misery. It was a dangerous combination, a lethal Molotov cocktail, but my entire body remained still: anticipating, craving, desiring his anger. I deserved this.

I watched as he brought a huge dark fist back, and studied each crease in his knuckles as he flung it right for my face. The force slammed into me, knocking through me like a fence in a tornado.

I dropped on the spot.

Thankfully, everything went black. It was a small respite from the torment of my aching and wearied soul, but it was something.

It was probably the last thing I'd be grateful to have ever again.

A/N: So if any one is interested to see what kind of twisted tale I can weave this time, please let me know, because this is not my only story idea. There are actually two very different directions I can go from here and I'm still debating each way. Don't hate on Jake...just throw me some love....I've been dueling this story for a year now, and I think I've gotten my head cleared of vamps at last. I can finally move ahead on something that will feel more like my own. Except that fate has determined that Edward will never be mine, so I have to make do with this.

And for any new readers who haven't tasted the insanity that is my mind: know that I always reply to reviews and while I am a bit off kilter, I am still a firm believer in love.