Alec stood intently on the cold street corner, peering deep and thoughtfully into the black abyss of night. It was particularly quiet in the small town, and he was able to find comfort from the headache that overwhelmed him at the moment, in this fact. He sat, thinking of everything and nothing, not sure what he should be thinking.

"You don't just leave the volturi.." he spoke ever so softly himself, objectively at first. "You DON'T just LEAVE the Volturi," He screamed inside his head as the cold reality of the mistake that he had made, knowing it more than likely would be his downfall.

But, with the fear and anxiety, there came an unnamable peace. He was free. Free from what, he wasn't quite sure. He had never complained before about his treatment, considering his treatment had been rather fair. Almost like that of royalty.

But, ever since they had attacked the Cullens…In that field, on that dreary part of the day, he had realized something. He had never really been free. He had always had an invisible string attached to him…pushing and pulling him in a perpetual motion, and whether he agreed with every decision the volturi mde or not, made no difference. He would still follow them. Fully. Faithfully. Loyally.

And so, in the dark of the night, as the others were either intent in their work, or out hunting, he told his dearest Jane that he was going in search of a snack. Found the first plane to America he could, and left for another chance, at another life…

And so there he was, in a nowhere town, full of nobody people, and he wasn't sure what he was suppose to do next.

Suddenly, he heard the faintest whimper, that he thought he had ever heard before. Curious, he followed it down the road, to a small home, with a littered yard. He saw the source of the whimper, was a girl. A beautiful one at that. She sat there, face smeared with makeup, and a razor in her hand.

At first, he thought her weak, selfish, silly…and all together idiot. "The world is better without her weak willed kind anyway" he thought…But then, he looked at her, and how beautiful she really was. She was almost as pale as he, with the most perfect porcelain skin he thought he had ever seen. Her eyes were beautiful pale blue-gray, and a perfect almond shape, just above two high, beautiful, rosy cheeks. Her lips were small, and deep red, and they were trembling. She had shiny black and green hair that was short, but fell across her face just perfectly. Yes, a beautiful girl. A beautiful waste.

And as he sat there contemplating her situation, he thought of his. How hopeless his predicament was, how doomed he would soon be. He began to feel pity for her. He shut his eyes and thought of all the possible reasons a girl like this, so beautiful and gentle, could have for wanting to end it all.

Then, he stopped, as the most delicious scent filled his nostrils, and the desired to feed swept over him. However, when he opened his eyes, he was horrified. He saw this beautiful face, on this delicate body tremble and shake, as crimson slipped down and across her wrist and onto the cold hardwood floor. He saw the life leaving her eyes, she had minutes at most.

In a moment of confusion and desperation, he smashed the window that separated them and lunged for her. He picked her up gently. She was cold. So cold. He thought back on all his years, and never had he seen anything so cold and fragile. He took her outside and sat kneeled beside her begging her to miraculously survive. He ripped his garment and used it to stop the blood flow, but he could tell by the glazed expression in her eyes it was too late.

He had two options, and he had to make the choice quick…make her a vampire…leave her for dead.

He decided, as he pushed back her hair, and bit into her shoulder…that he had never felt skin, so soft.