by Aeshna Lacrymosa
I could hear his voice in my head. The hunter had a great appetite for blood; he just wouldn't stop at nothing to get Bella. I ran as fast as I could to the studio; I've outrun my brothers and sisters.
"It's too bad he didn't have the strength to turn you," I could hear him saying now. "Instead, he kept you this fragile little human. It's cruel, really…"
Was I cruel to spare Bella the suffering of having to live without having to eat or sleep or bask in the sun? I wanted her to enjoy the pleasures that true life has to offer; the same things that being a vampire denies. That was why I couldn't turn her. But what if I made the wrong decision?
I tried to run even faster. But I was still too far. I was suddenly afraid I wouldn't make it.
"Bella!" I shouted when I slammed the doors of the ballet studio open. Surprisingly the hall was quiet. There wasn't even the sound of quiet breathing, or even a beating heart. "Bella?" I called again, frantically searching the floor, between the pillars.
Then, there she was—or at least, what was left of her. Her slim form was sprawled on the floor at the foot of one pillar. Her eyes were closed, and her body was completely still. I rushed to her and held her wrist to feel for a pulse. But only cold skin met mine—skin as cold as mine.
That was when I noticed the wound on her neck. The flesh under the broken skin looked bluish. There was no blood. James had sucked it all out.
I heard my sister Alice scream behind me. She loved Bella so much. "Edward, we were too late!" she sobbed. She fell on her knees beside me and took Bella's hand from mine.
"He didn't dawdle. He fed on her right away," I guessed as tears poured from my own eyes. I scooped her up and held her against myself. I was wrong; I thought I was doing what was best for her, and now this was the consequence.
The only thing that surprised me was that I didn't feel like hunting James down anymore. What was the point of that when it wouldn't bring Bella back? I've spent nearly an eternity waiting for somebody like her to come along, and by my own mistake, it was as if she was mine for only a few seconds.
"I should have turned her when I had the chance," I said.
"Edward, you did have good intentions," said my other sister Rosalie.
"And it led to this," I replied. I could tell she didn't mean it. Rosalie had always felt that Bella was a threat to our family. I'm guessing she's relieved.
Wondering how I am going to explain this to her father, I lifted her off the floor. I looked at Bella's face as I walked slowly toward the door. Her skin was paler than ever. Like myself, she would be young forever. But time would keep going for me—no sleep, no rest. Her presence would have made it easier. Alas, it was not to be.
Author's Note: I don't read Twilight a lot, so if there's something I got wrong here, like whether Stephenie Meyer's vampires shed tears or not, please don't hate on me. Peace!