I'm Sorry

I still don't understand what it is about her that makes her special. Why is it that after decades of abstinence without any mistakes, I was here at her house stalking her silently? Why did she have to smell so alluring, so intoxicating? Why was it that I could not bring myself to stay away?

Her very existence thwarted all the years of effort I had put into not becoming a monster. Not becoming what I knew I could so easily become. A demon of the night, a monster who was soulless.

I was doing exactly what I had told myself I would never do again. And what was worse, she was innocent. As far as I could tell, she had never done any wrong in her life.

But that did not stop me.

As much as my brain was working in overdrive, it could not stop this monster. He had taken over, he had erased whatever control I had over this body.

I walked silently through the house. I had ditched the shoes I had been wearing so I would not make a sound. I'm not sure why I was taking my time, drawing out the suspense of tasting that sweet blood.

It hurt me not to drink her dry. I could feel the tug of every one of my cells blindly pulling me to her. But I was drawing out that pain. The pain was almost pleasurable now. The torture only bringing more anticipation for the release that was to come.

Slowly around the corners of the house I walked. Every step bringing me closer to the end of this torture. I wanted this to end. But I wanted even more to hunt for it. I wanted her to run, I wanted her to scream. I wanted to feel like the hunter that I was created to be.

I stopped walking. My back leaning against the wall. This thin wall was what separated me from this young girl who would soon meet her fate. The fate that she had unknowingly walked into when she crossed my path. I could not see her, but I could sense her. All my cells were attuned to her. The closer I got the more I could feel her fragrance wrapping itself around my body, gripping at my clothing and imbedding in my skin.

I rounded that last corner. She was standing in her kitchen. Completely unaware that I was watching her, hunting her, that a monster was in her safe haven. And she would not know until I touched her. Until she was seconds away from death, she would not know what was happening. Why she was feeling weak, why her limbs would not move at her command.

My hand moved to her shoulder. She knew I was there, yet she did not run. This must have felt like a lovers caress to her, but there was not love in me for her. Lust for her blood and for the end of her life was all I wanted.

My lips came down to press against the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent. Slowly brushing my nose along her neck to move it just behind the lobe of her ear. Why did she not make a sound? I moved my lips down her neck again. "Are you afraid?"

I felt her head nod in affirmation.

"Why do you not run?"

"Would that have helped me?"

I paused for a second or two, then shook my head no, my lips brushing over her shoulder as I did it. "No, that would not help you."

"That is what I thought."

I slowly placed a chaste kiss on her neck. The feel of her blood under my lips was invigorating, enchanting. I could feel the muscles on her back, pressed against my chest, tighten. This was pleasure before the pain for her.

I bit down.

The gasp I long sought to hear was pushed through her lips as her blood flowed through my mouth. The liquid coated my tongue, trickling slowly down my ever burning throat. My eyes closed at the taste. I basked in the glory that was her life giving liquid. This crystalline substance still singing to me even as I pulled more from her body.

The wine was so much better then the bouquet.

I could feel her knees grow weak. Slowly I lowered the both of us to the kitchen floor where I placed her in my lap. If not for the fact that I was currently sucking the ruby fluid from her veins, to an outsider I'm sure it looked like we were cuddling.

With every second that passed I could feel her grow weaker. Slowly slumping in my arms. And the more she gave the more I wanted but there was so little left. I saw her looking at the window, saw the reflection of myself at her neck and her own weak smile at the image. Why was she smiling? What did she know that I did not?

"I'm sorry . . . I did . . . this to you . . . Edward."

What did she mean? I was the one who was killing her. How could she know that I had not done this in decades?

"I loved you eyes."

My eyes.

That is how she knew. That they changed so quickly after I tasted blood, they told her what I had not. I should have been able to control myself. I should have been able to stop. Would she live now if I stopped? I doubted it. But the real question was 'could I stop?'

I pulled away, gasping with unneeded breath. "Do you want to die?" I asked. "I can change you so you will be like my family. You don't need to drink from humans."

I could see the question in her eyes. "This was a mistake, I couldn't stop myself. You don't need to be this way."

"Yes, I think . . . "

"No, you have to be sure. This is forever."

"Yes."

"I am sorry too, Bella."