If Only I Knew

Summary : Isabella Hale was born in 1915 and was the most gorgeous in her hometown Rochester. As she is engaged to Royce King a mysterious family show up and keep to themselves. However Bella is attracted to one of them. Edward. And when he saw her he knew he wanted to be hers. But she was taken. When fate decided Bella's life was over Carlisle decided she should have another chance. Will Edward and Bella fall in love? When vampires find their love, they keep them forever....

Isabella Hale

I was bored. I was so bored. What can I do? If I didn't leave the house soon I was going to go insane.

Vera.

I should go visit my best friend. I haven't seen her since we finished high school. My Mother had taken me to numerous dress shops and beauty parlours to make sure I looked my best whilst Vera got married and had a child. Henry. He was adorable. Dark curly hair with big green eyes. I could only imagine what my and Royce's children will look like. Our daughter will have long blond hair like mine with my beautiful face and Royce's personality and piercing blue eyes. Our son will have Royce's hair and manliness with my perfectness.

We will be a happy family.

But then I thought of Edward. A life without him caused my heart to give a tug. This never happened with Royce. Edward brings out an unknown feeling within me and it felt amazing. It felt great. I wanted to feel like this all the time.

I walked through the streets and walked into her house as if I owned the place. Vera was the only one who understood me. She wasn't that pretty – plain actually – but I loved her. We have been best friends forever and she actually looked beyond the perfectly crafted personality my Mother has created. We sit for hours talking about how our lives have been and how excited I am about my wedding. Her husband Charles obviously loved her. He had a sparkle in his eye whenever he looked at her. Royce never had that when he looked at me. He had a dark glint to him.

It was late and I decided it was time to leave. I was going to ask Father to escort me but what was the point when I lived a few streets away. I walk through the familiar streets and pull my jacket to me closer. It was cold.

As I walked I saw Edward Masen. He looked handsome and was staring at me. He had the glint that Charles had in his eye. I was sure a massive grin took over my glorious face because he smiled at me. I smiled at him and waved. He returned the gesture and I carried on walking, with my heels clicking on the hard pavement.

I hear a group of laughing men come my way and I walk close to the side so not to come in their way. I look up and find Royce and his friends.

He had been drinking. That much was easy to see. He could hardly walk straight and whenever he spoke you had to concentrate to catch the words.

"Bells!" he called. I stopped. That was my second mistake that night, stopping, when I should have run. My first mistake was not calling someone to bring me home.

"Bells!" he called again. He told me he didn't like champagne yet here he was drunk. As I began walking over to him, the four other men came and joined him under the street lamp. My step slowed, but didn't stop until I was standing beside Royce.

"Hello," I said, smiling up at my fiancée. But something was wrong. His eyes were glassy and red, his smile to bright, his speech slurred when he answered.

"There's my Bells!" he announced loudly, slurring his words, slinging an arm around my shoulder's. His breath reeked of alcohol. That's when I realized Royce was as drunk as the rest of them. He was speaking to one of the men, named John, who had come down from Georgia.

"Didn't I tell you?" Royce was saying, swaying slightly. "Isn't she lovelier than all of your Georgia peaches?" he asked. The man named John looked at me like I was a horse he was buying, scaring me only slightly. But I shook the fear away. Surely they wouldn't do anything in the middle of the street. Surely not. The feeling of uneasiness and foreboding churning and growing in my stomach becoming ever more pronounced with each passing second, told me otherwise. Then the man, John, spoke.

"It's hard to tell," he said, smiling slightly. "She's all covered up." At this they laughed. I frowned slightly. I didn't like the turn the conversation was taking. I prepared to leave, slipping my shoulders out from under Royce's arm. I cleared my throat, about to make an excuse to continue on my way home. Suddenly, Royce grabbed my arm, and ripped off the jacket I was wearing, scattering the brass buttons all over the street. I gasped. It had been a gift from him. I tried to push him away, to get enough space between us to do something.

"Show him what you look like, Bells!" Royce laughed, ripping my hat off. This time I screamed, the pins wrenching my hair out along with the hat. My hair fell down around my shoulders, and I reached up to try and massage my now aching scalp. They laughed at my scream. I realized they were enjoying the sound of my pain. At the same time, I realized if I didn't get away now, things would take a turn for the worse. But Royce had a firm grip on my arm. There was no way I could get away, and in my slippers and skirt, they could catch me easily. There was no escape. Then all of them were on me, ripping my shirt open, pulling my skirt up, ripping it to make it shorter. To make it easier. I pushed and shoved them back, screaming, praying for someone to come and save me. But if anyone saw me, they didn't care. One of them slapped me, to try and stop me from fighting back, but I screamed again, in pain and anger. The pain. Again, they laughed. They started hitting me. I tried to run, but one of them grabbed my arm again. I screamed and took a swipe at him with my nails.

Making contact with skin, the man growled at the pain, but he didn't let go. I screamed again, this time in hopelessness and despair. They were hitting me again, and now someone was forcing me down on the cold, hard cobbled streets. It was so cold against my stomach and arms, against my exposed skin. Someone roughly turned me onto my back and straddled my hips. I couldn't see who it was; there was blood in my eyes. The hitting slowed and stopped, and I opened my eyes again, wondering what was going on. There was still one man on top of me, and the rest were looking down at us, smiling their drunken smiles. I looked at the man on top of me. What was he going to do?

Then, in horror, I watched as he began to unbutton his shirt. I began to scream again before a fist roughly slammed into the side of my face, silencing me. My head was spinning, and my arms wouldn't move. I began to cry, but they didn't seem to notice or care. They just smiled as each and every one of the five men, including my own fiancée took their turn at me. If I screamed or tried to push them away, they would hit me. Each of them did it differently. The first one right on the street, the second time, the man pulled me up and pressed me into an alley wall. When I protested, he slammed me back into the wall a couple times. And Royce went last. That was the worst one. He, too, did it one the street, but sometimes propped my back up against the alley wall, none too gently. I had stopped screaming for some times, laying limp, ceasing to care, my life slipping away as the minutes passed. Finally, the finished, leaving me in the street, stumbling away.

My own blood was everywhere, on the street and alley walls, my shirt in tatters in the road, the cold brick pressed into my back, my eyes closed, and I was barely breathing anymore. The men laughed as Royce finished putting his jacket. He was laughing to, and they began stumbling away from me, leaving me for dead.

"Oi, Royce!" I could hear one of them say from where I was laying, lifeless.

"Royce," he said, "You're going to have to find a new bride, now!" He exclaimed. They all laughed again, the sound fading as they moved farther away from me. The last thing I heard from them was Royce.

"I'm going to have to learn some patience first!" he said, and then the sound of their laughter faded away. I waited to die, bleeding and growing colder by the second, my life slipping away like sand through fingers. I begged for death to come and take me quickly. I was impatient for it to come. Why was it taking so long? It began to snow, unusual for April. There was so much pain! Why wouldn't death come? The pain pulsed in time with my slowing heartbeat, strong and sharp with each pounding beat, almost drowning out my heart. Tears still leaked from my closed eyes. Why was it taking so long? The tears fell faster. I'd never imagined dying like this, alone and cold, at the hands of drunken men. All I could do now was hope that death was not far off.

My own fiancée did this. He never loved me. And now I realised that I never loved him.

My heart belongs to another and no matter how much time I've known him, I admitted to myself that I really was in love.

With Edward Masen.

Review! X

This Was Hard To Write!

I Hate Rosalie's Story And I'm Glad That She Killed The Stupid Men That Killed Her!

Rosalie Should Have Gotten Her Happy Ending!

X