Prologue
She's dead. She has to be dead. Renesemee is dead. She's not here, so she's dead. Now I don't want to wake up, but it's hard when I can hear things. Like Edward's vulgar cursing and Esme's tearless sobs. I feel bad, and so sorry for hurting the people I love, and mostly me. I can't believe that I loved something that, even though everyone told me it was killing me, I thought was harmless. I shouldn't have been foolish enough to want sex with Edward, but then again I never thought that getting pregnant, with Edward's child at least, was a possibility.
"Bella, Bella can you hear me?" That was Carlisle using his best P.H.D. voice, oh and that's Isabella to you. Well great, so now I'm talking to myself. They must have me on some type of mental drugs or shit.
Okay, you know what I just need to get the hell out of this place. And sit up... now! What, those blood sucking monsters strapped me down, didn't they? Ughh! When I get out of this weird obviously pre-planned sleep thing, your face is mine!
Wait, who is this person. It's like I know her but she seems very far away. Holy crap! This is me, from when I was younger. The video, from the ballet studio, that James used to trick me, that's the girl I never wanted to be, but has suddenly surfaced.
"Bella, Bella honey? Where are you?" Mom's voice kept echoing off the many mirrors. She turned the corner and saw me. "Bella honey what are you doing back here?"
"I don't wanna go! I suck mom. People will laugh at me."
"Sweet heart, you're the best out there!" I know that, I thought to myself, I just want you to tell me again and again how good I am.
"No! I suck really bad! You can dance better than I can." Mom looked hurt which made me feel a sick sense of pride.
"Darling everyone is counting on you! Phil bought a brand new disposable camera, and tell you what, if you go out there and dance your great big heart out, I'll buy you something special."
"Fine if you insist." Mom walked me to the dressing rooms where she touched up make-up, and asked a lot of nervous mom questions like: Do you remember your steps? Are you going to remember to smile? Are you going to wave at me and Phil? Are you going to do your best? Did you leave anything at home? And then my dance teacher called my ballet class to the waiting area, I was gonna go on next, and I was gonna be the best, as always.
No, this isn't who I want to be. I want to be grounded and in tune with everything else around me, not like the little girl from the ballet studio. I'm not her anymore. Alert to Bella: Your body's on fire.
I'm dying. Why hadn't Edward bitten me yet? Why was he letting me die? I thought he loved me. And with these tormented thoughts of love, the fire spread and intensified.
A/N: This story is in collaboration with Lyric-baby and it's our first story, so please be gentle but constuctive criticsm is appreciated.