I'm so sorry for not posting in a long time! I'm not even sure if my readers are still there, but oh well… I was sick with a cold, and I just finished my exams recently. Anyways, I'll be continuing my story, like I promised. Special thanks to Fabvioso, who has been constantly reviewing my chapters. I love reading all of your sweet reviews, enjoy this chapter and remember to tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga belongs to the awesomely awesome Stephenie Meyer, not me.
Chapter 8
Rosalie's POV
"Rose."
The voice seemed to come from all around me, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
It had a soft, velvety quality to it, one which I knew I could never tire of hearing.
My name sounded like a promise, luring me deeper and deeper, like an intoxicating drug.
I wanted to find the source of that voice, I more than wanted to, I needed to. It was a thirst, a hunger far deeper beyond any that I had ever experienced before.
I seemed to walk for an eternity, but all around me there was nothing but a vast, endless ocean of pitch-black darkness.
Then the scene changed.
Standing on a cobbled street bathed in moonlight, I knew something was wrong.
An all too familiar feeling clawed its way into my stomach, twisting it into an impenetrable knot.
I heard my name being called again, only this time it was different from the voice which had seemed to hypnotize me.
It was too loud, cutting into the silence of the night, and I heard drunken laughter echoing, smelled the thick stench of cheap wine incensed in the air.
Something in me screamed at me to run. But I couldn't seem to move, I was frozen to the spot, fixed by some sort of trance.
I watched as a girl walked past me, towards the laughter and the liquor smell.
For a moment, nothing made sense.
Then all of a sudden, everything fell into place.
I wanted to run towards the girl, pull her back, and take her anywhere away from this street.
But I was bound to the spot, as though I were watching some sick reality show.
The figures were silhouettes in the darkness, but each motion was sharp and clear, mixed with the high-pitched screams and cries.
And then I was the girl. I felt her terror, heard her torn, desperate mind wishing for the end.
As the man closed in, pressing her body to the ground, he leaned in, his face lit by the moonlight. His features were twisted in a sneer.
His eyes bore into hers, a gaze that chilled her to the bone.
But yet, what chilled me the most was the jolting familiarity of those eyes, eyes I'd known for decades.
Emmett's.
"Rose?"
"Babe, are you alright?"
My sweet, kind, patient husband was suddenly there, waving his hands in front of my face, looking worried.
I realized I'd spaced out, in that twisted vision like a nightmare.
Only, vampires couldn't dream, right?
Seeing Emmett's concerned expression immediately brought on the tide of guilt.
How could I, even in a vision, associate him with those memories?
I felt more than ashamed, unable to meet his eyes.
"I guess I'm a little tired, that's all," I said.
I realized how stupid that sounded the second the words came out.
How could vampires be tired?
My lie didn't even sound convincing to myself.
Emmett frowned.
"Did something happen which I should know about? Come on, Rose, just spit it out.
You know I'm always here for you."
He put his arms around me and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. He knew me too well.
"I met someone today," I finally said, slowly.
He waited for me to go on.
"Someone who looked a lot like-"
I couldn't finish the sentence.
He looked half curious, half concerned.
"Like?" he prompted gently.
"Henry." I choked out. My voice sounded too high to myself.
I watched him carefully, observing his reaction.
Emmett looked, if nothing, surprised.
He paused for a while, as though trying to find the right words to say.
"I would have liked to meet him," he said finally, sounding somewhat amused.
"Meet him? How can you just say that so calmly? I don't just mean they looked similar, Em, they looked identical! And he is Henry."
I realized that I sounded somewhat irrational, but I didn't care at the moment. I wanted to rant.
He held up his hands.
"Wait a minute, Rose, first of all, how are you certain he is Henry? Secondly, even if he is, what's the problem with that?"
I shook my head.
"But he should have died nearly a hundred years ago! I knew him as a toddler, as Vera's little boy, always. He should have grown up, gotten married, had kids, grown old, then died…" I was nearly hysterical, on the verge of losing my mind, I felt.
Emmett took my hand gently.
"Rose, maybe you're overreacting a bit, angel. Remember, accidents happen. That's how we all got here, right? As Emmett McCarthy, I never would have imagined this life possible. If it weren't for that bear, that day in the woods, I wouldn't be here now.
But I've never, ever regretted becoming a Cullen. Maybe something similar happened to Henry, something which we don't know. But whatever it is, just because you knew him in another lifetime doesn't mean it's a bad thing he's here now. If he's nice, we can all get to know him and be best friends, yeah?"
I took a deep breath.
He was right, of course. It made perfect sense when he put it like that.
I tried to smile, and made a resolve to put the encounter behind me, determined not to let anything ruin our stay with the Denalis.
Yet there was still a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, an uneasiness which I couldn't ignore completely.
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