When I awoke the world was black; the salty, wooden smell vaguely familiar. My eyesight, however keen it may be, could only discern the white crests of waves beating against a rocky shore. I tried to suppress the familiarity tugging at the borders of my mind, but a gust of wind and a burst of lightning confirmed my fear—Bella.
Bolts of electricity were tearing angrily through the sky, exposing her outline in quick flashes. I couldn't make sense of any of it—the storm, the beach, my sister stumbling across a cliff. Had she taken up league with the occult? Was she summoning a mafia of dark spirits to 'take care' of my family?
Bella made her way carefully to the edge of the precipice. She extended her arms like a bird preparing to take flight, or someone about to… the breath caught in my throat as I realized Bella's intentions. She rolled onto the balls of her feet and—

"NO! No, Bella, please! No!" I cried as I was pulled out of my vision—Jasper's face inches from mine.
"Alice! Alice, what did you see?" he demanded, concern etched in every inch of his features.
"Bella… she… Jasper, I have to go to Forks, I have to leave now."
"That's out of the question." He replied, his curt tone leaving me stunned.
"But, Jasper…"
"No, Alice! No matter your affection for the girl, Edward is family. He demanded we have no contact with her! This isn't easy for him, either, you've seen the emptiness in his eyes, but we have to respect his decision."
"You don't understand! She…" The words stuck to the back of my throat, refusing to be acknowledged as truth. "I saw her throw herself from a cliff, Jasper. I love Edward, but I will not allow Bella to die for his foolishness."
"You have no say in it, Alice! It is not our affair!"
"Would you not expect Edward to do the same for you? Would you rather him watch me drown?" I retorted, trying to hide the pain of his sharp words.
"Alice, there's no need for the dramatics. My love for you has no relevance here," he said more softly, seeing past my façade.
"Give Tanya my apologies for leaving on such short notice, and thank her for her hospitality." I replied coldly as I walked from the room. I found my purse on the kitchen table and raced for the door, Jasper at my heels.
"Alice!" He called after me, knowing I would not turn back.

With the flash of a high-status credit card and a few coy smiles I was granted a plane ticket to Washington immediately. I found my seat by the window and took it eagerly; memories of my vision and argument with Jasper still burning beneath my eyelids. I tried convincing myself that I was, as Jazz suggested, just being dramatic. Surely I would find Bella laughing and happy with Mike or Tyler, all memories of Edward and my family replaced or forgotten. Of course Bella hadn't spent the past six months in the fetal position, hiding from the world like my brother. Bella is strong and durable; she did not buckle under the heartbreak. I didn't believe any of it, but it was easier to breathe pretending I did.
This was, after all, entirely my fault. I had insisted on a birthday party, I had led Jasper to the Cullens. I hadn't been paying enough attention; I hadn't seen his attack coming. Without me Edward and Bella would be together. The guilt crushed into my chest, shaking my very core. If I could just get to her in time, maybe I could make up for all of my shortcomings. If I could get to her in time maybe I would finally be able to chase away this demon.
"God, if you're really out there…" I found myself whispering to the dark clouds floating past my window. "If you're really out there, and you can hear me, if you'll listen to me despite… well, you know, please don't let anything happen to Bella. Please keep her safe… if that truly means away from my family, so be it. Just don't let her hurt anymore…"
"Would you like a pillow, ma'am?" A young stewardess interrupted.
"No, thank you." I looked back to the cotton figures dancing outside, feeling rather foolish for my sudden spiritual outburst. Why would God grant the requests of one he counted among the damned? I pulled my knees into my chest, hoping with every fiber of my being that Carlisle was right about the afterlife.

After snaking my way past the few crowds gathered at the airport I ran for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the tall white structure loomed in front of me—home. Though I was aching for a shower and absolutely famished I wasted no time. Grabbing the first set of car keys I found—Carlisle's Mercedes—I sped off to find Bella. Her house was dark and the driveway empty.
"They're probably at work." I explained to the empty passenger seat. I took in a deep breath, braced myself for whatever I may find, and
opened the car door. The street was quieter than usual, only the constant patter of rain on the trees prevented complete silence. It was as if the bricks and pavement themselves were in hushed reverence; the atmosphere chilled me to the bone. A crash of thunder in the distance made the horrible guilt-monster roar to life.
"No. This is not over." As if speaking the words aloud would silence my inner torment.
The interior of the Swan residence did nothing to placate my nightmare. The stench of emptiness hung heavy, like a sheet covering old furniture. Maybe… No. No, I would not entertain the thought. I felt as if I were walking through a dollhouse. People had obviously been here—there were dishes in the sink and muddy footsteps by the door—but there was no life. It wasn't until I saw Bella's room perfectly neat and showing no signs of habitation that I let reality sink in. I was too late. I knelt beside her bed, letting the last bit of her lingering scent fill my senses.
The sound of her ancient truck caught me completely off guard. Charlie must have already learned of his daughter's death and retrieved her truck from La Push; I'd forgotten how quickly word travels in such a small town.
Charlie. The guilt-monster returned, ripping at my chest and threatening to devour me entirely. I ran to meet him, not bothering to think of an excuse for my presence. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I encountered two very unexpected things: The soft, floral scent of freesia that could only belong to my brother's dead girlfriend, and the putrid, disgusting smell of a wet dog.
Suddenly, I was trapped in a tight embrace; her luscious scent reminding me why I hunted so often while in Forks.
"I'd forgotten how exuberant you are." I said through clenched teeth.
She let go, noticing my dark eyes.

My immense relief was overshadowed by even more confusion. She looked like a shadow of the friend I once knew; her eyes held no vivacity and her cheeks were sallow. But here she was, standing in front of me, breathing if not fully alive—which I suppose is all I could ask for. I took another, subtle whiff and tried to comprehend my conclusion.

Of course Bella had found the one thing in Forks more dangerous than throwing herself from a cliff during a storm—a werewolf.