I dedicate this to my awesome cowriter and Beta Uselessid90. She is awesome and totally the reason why I can do this.


I looked back as I heard a noise, a shuffle, breaking me out of reverie. I walk down the street, quickly, as to make sure no one follows me. I see a black hood, looking up slightly as to see his white teeth, his cold eyes… Oh… Those eyes… I turn back in a panic, walking faster, running, running far away from those cold dead eyes.

I try to block out the memories, the fear, the grief…the blood.

I stop, my stomach lurching, as I try not to remember the sickly sweet scent.

I look down at my white hands, but they're no white anymore. They're red, red with his blood…

I quickly try to wipe my hands on my pants, as to wash the offending color off of me. But it's not coming off. I wipe harder, desperate to get it off, get it off!

I look at them again to see if they have changed, to see if the redness is gone, but instead of less, there's more! I scratch at them. I try to make it go, go, be gone.

I feel it, choking me, binding me, bringing me down.

I cry out, desperate for it to go away. I remember his face, his face. But something's happened; it's changing, changing from his beautiful boy like face to something deep, dark. It's looking at me, the fear the hatred... The need for revenge.

I collapse; begging for someone to save me, to help me, to make it go away.

I feel something wet roll down my cheeks, falling onto my red hands.

Some part of me wonders, are they red too?

I close my eyes, begging for someone to end this, to take my tourniquet, to take my life.


My eyes fly open, and it's dark.

There's something pressing against my chest, too tight, it's too tight!

I reach out, willing myself to get free.

It's crushing me, stealing my air.

I've got to break through!

I scream, fighting at this feeling.

My arm shoots out breaking free, I try to roll, and get as far away from my attacker.

I roll and roll until I hear a large thump, and I start to take in my surroundings.

I see dark silver walls lined with books and impersonal possessions.

I see a white wash ceiling, swirls and curls mixed into the plainly painted ceiling.

I look to my left; I see a large wood post bed with a blackened comforter that is in total disarray.

I look down to see my body tightly pinned by a white sheet, restricting my movement and my breathing.

I lay back, panting heavily, my heart beating nearly a hundred miles per minute.

"A dream." I thought. "It was just a dream."

I swiftly untangle myself from the bed sheet and stand up, slightly swaying. I hold my head as I grab onto a bed post to steady me.

Once I've regained what little equilibrium I have, I walk to the bathroom, washing my face and continuing my morning routine of brushing my teeth and combing my hair.

I look in the mirror to take in my outward appearance: boring brunette hair, skin so white it looks translucent, dull brown eyes, and large purple shadows under my eyes.

I see something move in the mirror behind me. I quickly turn around as to see if I have an intruder.

No one is there.

I turn back to my mirror, but something's staring back at me.

And it's not me.

Red eyes.

I automatically slam my hand against the intruding face, watching it shatter and break against the palm of my hand.

I pull my hand back, watching as the shard of mirror falls, like a deadly shower of reflection.

Something drips from my hand; it's so warm and wet.

I watch as the red drips onto the fallen pieces, covering his smiling face.

And I remember.

Flashes are going through my head; trying to make me remember, make me remember him.

I shake my head, desperate to get the memories out: the screams, the laughter, the blood.

Gasping for breath I slide down onto the floor, begging for the memories to end.

In the background I hear the pieces shatter under my weight.

My vision blurs, my body overcome with the reminiscences of that day.

"Bella! Bella! Anyone in there?" Jake says.

His eyes alight with joy and his mouth set in a permanent smile that never fails to brighten my day.

I reach out, desperate to grab him, to make him real again.

As my fingers curl around them, he suddenly changes.

His face morphs into one of shock and pain, as my hand slips through him as if he's made of smoke.

"JAKE!" I scream trying to reach for him.

His head falls down as he desperately clutches his stomach, trying to hold himself in, it's as if his body is bursting at the seams.

Suddenly he vanishes as two pearl white hands grab him, dragging him away from me.

I reach for him, my sunshine, my Jake.

But something's holding me back.

I struggle, jerking away from this imprisonment.

My head slams against something hard, like marble.

My body goes numb; it's as if I've been anaesthetized.

When I look up, everything's blurry except for one thing: Jake.

His scream breaks me out of my cloudy stupor.

My eyes search for the reason for the scream, the scream that was filled with such horror and pain.

My gaze falling to his stomach where I see something, an intrusion in his soft skin.

A cold white hand protruding from his abdomen, covered in a veil of blood and intestines.

The hand turns, and Jake makes a garbled sound, it's as if he is choking, choking on the red dyed hand.

I open my mouth as to scream, scream for my beloved Jake.

I hear a maniacal sound, a laugh.

My eyes travel to the face, the face behind the red dyed hand.

Dirty blond hair, tied in the back with a well-worn piece of leather.

His mouth curved into a sinister smile that makes me want to run, run away from such an ominous thing.

But his eyes, his eyes are the most striking thing.

Red.

As red as the liquid pouring out of Jake and as red as the blood flowing through my heart.

I try to pull my body toward Jake, to take him away from the evil thing, but the thing, the thing that's holding my body in an iron clad hold that's bruising me, hurting me, breaking me, keeps me back, keeps me back from him.

The hand suddenly pulls back, dragging itself out of Jakes body.

It suddenly reappears, higher up, stabbing my Jake again.

Jakes head falls back, as his chest fights to breathe around the interference inside of him.

Something drips down my face, but I'm too scared to see what it is.

This cannot be happening.

Something tells me, this is in my mind, it's not real, I must be dreaming.

It's as if the face can tell what I'm thinking, he turns and smiles at me, pulling the hand out yet again and moving towards me, leaving my Jake on the ground, struggling for breath.

I turn my head away, away from this impossible abomination.

But he remains steady in going towards me.

I feel something cold, like ice on my face, but I don't look, I can't look!

His dyed hand holds my face, as if he's cradling it, rubbing the red fluid onto me.

He purrs, it is as if rubbing the liquid onto me makes him happy, aroused as he plays his game of cat and mouse.

I'm shaking, too shocked to make as he moves toward my face, closer and closer, and then leisurely,

His tongue with almost comical intentions, takes a long cold lick at the red fluid running off of my face.

Then I hear his angelic voice in my ear saying, "Now I've got you, my Isabella."

I scream, my body jerking up, not to find myself faced to the abomination, no, now I am in my bathroom, on frozen tiles and cracked glass as I lie down and cry myself to sleep, yet again looking for a haven where I can be freed from this Hell.


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