Author's notes: This is my first attempt at a lengthy Fan fiction piece. I have done smaller works for contests with word or page limits. This is strictly my interpretation of Breaking Dawn. I did this to keep myself sane and provide a diversion for others while we all wait with baited breath. I have tried to remain true to the details of the Twilight series up through Eclipse.
Disclaimer: These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by Stephenie Meyer, publisher Little, Brown and Company, and Summit Entertainment. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
THE DARKEN'D VEIL by: Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864)
Oh could I raise the darken'd veil
Which hides my future life from me,
Could unborn ages slowly sail
Before my view -- and could I see
My every action painted there,
To cast one look I would not dare.
There poverty and grief might stand,
And dark Despair's corroding hand,
Would make me seek the lonely tomb
To slumber in its endless gloom.
Then let me never cast a look,
Within Fate's fix'd mysterious book.
Preface
I remember running; not me but him with me on his back. There were moments when we would duck behind thick concrete pillars set along the walls. He would get his bearings and begin running again. I buried my face in his hair trying to keep my wits and my insides in check. We just needed to make it out, out into the sun. He gasped and a great look of despair crossed his face. Something had gone wrong and he saw it in his mind. This time we ran harder and faster.
Then the piercing stab hit me in the middle of my left shoulder blade. I screamed and moaned. There was no need to be quiet. They knew we were fleeing and in pursuit. His speed accelerated with our panic as we broke out into the sun. I pinched my eyes shut even tighter, to manage the pain, maintain my hold on him and handle the rolling of my insides caused by the rapid motion.
I felt hands grabbing me, shifting me into a cradle hold, while we continued running. My heart was pounding and racing, gaining momentum. My muscles were seizing, constricting, setting hard like concrete. "Bella hang on. He's coming. He'll know what to do." But would he? Would he know? When was the coming?
Trying to open my eyes just the smallest crack took great effort. They felt like they had the weight of a thousand sand men. My head was swimming. I needed to stay awake. I needed to see him, to tell him. This was bad, very bad. My eyes were spotting with black dots and were weighing down again, threatening to close forever.