First off, I own Twilight like I own Santa…not at all. If Santa is real…wait a sec…if Santa isn't real…does that mean Twilight doesn't exist? NOOO! My life is over!!!

Anyway, this is Rosalie's human story…I hope you enjoy.

Also, I love reviews…I mean, who doesn't? It's just that to review doesn't mean writing the word 'good' or 'update'. I mean, seriously, whatever it is, whether it be praise or constructive critism…I'm all for it!

The First Chapter

Blurred images and abstract paintings swirled inside my head. Among them were strange, strained images of me in some of my most wonderful outfits, like my organza dress, for example. I twirled around as the men watched me lustfully. My friends gathered around me, and sighed in envy at how beautiful I looked, how beautiful I was; something most of them could never have.

As I drifted in detachment as the images swirled once again and I was in front of Vera, my best friend. She was sitting beside a tall, mildly handsome man with curly brown hair and a work cap. The man said something to make Vera giggle lightly and snuggle up to his chest. In my head, I laughed at how they could be so happy with so little. And, frankly, I pitied them. They did not have nearly as much as I got in a week, and that made me sad, and fed my vanity, and I enjoyed it.

I loved when people would stare at my obvious beauty and take a hit to their self esteem. I loved when men watched my every move. I loved how my parents would always brag about me to the other bankers. My mother preferred me over my two younger brothers, Leo and Isaac. She would always take my word over theirs, even if it was my fault. She would buy me the most expensive dress in the store and make my siblings choose the rugged clothes that were on sale.

I sighed inwardly in contentment. My life was perfect, and even better, I was perfect. My world was blissfully snug and cozy. There were luxury furniture, fine clothes, and exquisite food. I had seen a whole lot of dirty, ragged, poor people out in the streets of Rochester. Their simple frocks were stained and ripped in various places. This, I remembered, was the effect of the Great Depression, a simple rumor that had turned out to be truthful. This disaster had no effect on my glorious lifestyle.

But I felt no pity upon them, for they had brought this upon themselves, my father had said. It was their fault that they had no money. I had no idea why, but I didn't doubt my father, not yet. My father always wanted more and more than what he had. It was very foolish, since we had so much. My mother didn't understand it either, but as long as we were making money, she would go with it. She was very much like me, proud and vain. But we loved our vanity.

I was awoken from my reverie as the old grandfather clock chimed ten o'clock in the morning. I opened my eyes slightly to see my violet ceiling and my stain-glass window catching all the bright sunlight and throwing it about my room. My dressers were large and deep oak colored. They stood towering in a corner of my large room. By the wall parallel to my bed was a huge mirror, framed with gold roses.

I slowly sat up from my soft, silk pillows and groaned as I looked into the mirror. My hair was slightly ruffled, and I would not have minded if it wasn't Sunday. Sunday was church day. For church, my father always insisted that I look my very best. And church started in an hour. I had a lot of work to do.

I rummaged around my room for my blue cotton dress, perfect for today, because I felt like blue. Not the sad, dreary blue; I felt for a light and cheery blue day. Almost like the sky. Once I came upon it, I decided that it was time for a shower. I quickly grabbed my light red towel and my soap, the finest in all of America, and scurried myself out the door.

The maid, Esperanza, greeted me with a small smile as I rushed down the hall. Esperanza was rather large and stubby. Her mousy brown hair waved slightly to the middle of her back. She had light green eyes and a pointed nose. I didn't think much of her, she was a servant. But she always thought highly of me, who wouldn't?

When my parents were out on business trips, she would always comfort me and help me in my studies. She would understand when I cried for them, they were always away. But, I was a child then, a child in need of support. Now that I had my support, my admirers, I didn't need her comfort anymore. At least she would always be there if I needed her.

"Good morning, deary. Did you sleep well?" Her high voice chimed from behind me as I dashed up the wooden staircase that led to yet another hallway.

"I slept fine, thank you." I yelled over my shoulder. I turned the corner and walked down the hallway, out of breath. I opened a wooden door to my right and stepped into the bathroom.

The shower faucet in the shower was silvery and large. The doors to the shower were an opaque off-white color. As I washed off, my mind started working at a normal pace, and I had to hurry. I had woken late and I had church soon.

Once I had dressed and Esperanza had tied my hair up into an elegant bun with my curls tumbling down the sides of my face, I was walked out to my car, a white Rolls-Royce Phantom. I loved that car; it was so pretty and…expensive.

I reared up the engine and headed off in the direction of my church. I waved at the people in fancy cars and zoomed past the cars in the rotten ones, smirking at them. The beggars were lined up on the streets, holding their hands out and groveling like the animals they were. Why would anyone want this life? It amazed me how these people could have no self preservation whatsoever.

As I neared the church, I slowed and waved at Vera who was walking with her husband, the man she was with in my dream. She waved a small hand back at me and smiled. Her bright blue eyes flattered her light blonde hair, which was curled and hung loosely down to her shoulders. She was dressed in a simple, faded pink, day dress. Even though it was simple, I liked it all the same. She was my best friend, I would not ridicule her.

The church towered over the street; it was made of white stone and beautiful blue-glass windows. The church's name was The First United Methodist and I guessed that I was Methodist. The only reason that I attended this church was its beauty and elegance. I had actually grown up Catholic, but Vera went to this church, so I came as well.

As I got out of my car, I felt many men's eyes staring at me. I smiled and held my head up high as I strutted up to the wooden doors of the church.

The sanctuary had been remodeled in 1930, so it was as elegant as ever. It had one formal, center isle and two outer ones on the floor in front of the stage. There were stained glass windows depicting different scenes. In the East Te Deum window, Christ is clothed in regal crimson, which had metallic gold in the glass. In the smaller windows that lined the walls down the sides of the isles, there were pictures of different Christians and threw rainbows onto the other walls.

The balconies on both the right and left of the ground floor rose high above the heads of the people in the isles. There was also a larger balcony in the back of the sanctuary. The back rows of the balcony and floors were for the colored people, the maids, and the immigrants.

I chose a seat near the front of the rows and waited for the sermon to start. Vera and her lover sat down beside me and smiled happily. I grinned back at them and heard several gasps from my admirers who had been watching me.

"Good morning, Rose." She said, still grinning. "You've met Cecil?" The man she was with smiled at me, too kind, I thought. I nodded.

"We met at Isaac Harten's ball, if I am not mistaken." I said stiffly. I didn't rather enjoy the look he was giving me, a look that Vera could not see. But I could, I could see the lust in his eyes. Normally, I would enjoy this attention, but not from my closest friend's husband. I was disgusted at how he could want more than Vera, and I turned away.

"Rose?" Vera said shaking my shoulder gently. When I looked back to her, she was still grinning. Now I was confused. There was a twinkle of happiness in her baby blue eyes.

"What has you so happy, Vera?" I asked, trying to contemplate her flippancy. She wasn't usually like this, unless something big and good had happened to her. It reminded me of fifth grade, when she had her first boyfriend. His name was James Mocherman and she had been fond of him. When he asked her if she would like to go to the school ball with him, she had been happy. But not this happy, this happy crossed a borderline. Something was up.

"I have some wonderful news," She giggled as Cecil tightened his hold on her waist. He kissed her on the cheek and I stifled a grimace: that filth bag. I waited anxiously as she pulled from his gaze and looked back at me. She took a deep breath and started.

"I am pregnant."